Page 6

Chapter 6

Jinx!

Noah

I told myself I’d play it cool.

Just show up at the firehouse fundraiser, just to catch a glimpse of her.

Of course, she’s sitting at the table when I walk in—hoodie, legs tucked under her, hair still damp from snow.

She’s laughing.

There’s a fire in the hearth and people crowded around card tables like it’s game night at the town rec center.

Only it’s the Cedar Falls Firehouse Fundraiser, and they’ve turned the whole place into a cozy, wood-paneled celebration—chili cook-off on one side, baked goods on the other, and in between, little circles of people nursing hot drinks and swapping stories.

I spot Levi and Lily next. Then Scott, lounging casually beside June like he’s always belonged there.

Even at a distance, I catch someone asking about the final camp day—pizza, snacks, whatever. June replies with a chuckle, tossing out the idea of an “unofficial after-party.” Scott hears it too. His head tilts slightly, like he’s filing it away.

Before I can overanalyze it, Karla and Tara wave me over to a table where a red box with bold white text reads We’re Not Really Strangers .

When I get near, June looks up. Our eyes lock for a second. It’s not a smile exactly. But it’s not ice either.

It’s something. Maybe she thought I missed it. That little blush when I walked in. Like her body remembered what transpired this afternoon, before her brain talked her out of it.

Levi elbows out a chair for me.

My fingers twitch remembering this morning—her leaning into me, breath hitching, that flicker of want before she ran. She wanted it. I know she did. And now she's here, cheeks pink, pretending nothing happened. Laughing. Shining. Sitting right next to him.

I slide into the chair before I do something stupid, like reminding her how fast she pulled away this morning—after that one fragile second where she let herself lean in.

Mostly, I’m here because she’s here. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be near her.

Scott nudges a card from the game toward me. “Simple rules. Draw a question. Everyone answers. No lying. Unless you’re Levi. Then it’s expected.”

Levi flips him off. Lily snorts into her cider.

I draw. Read the card.

"What’s something you hope never changes about you?"

Scott says, "My appetite."

Tara: "My ability to remember everyone’s coffee order."

Lily and Levi answer something cute and shared.

Then June. Her voice is quiet, but sure. "I hope I never stop showing up for people. Even when it's hard."

The group nods. But I watch her. Really watch her.

My turn. I could say something flippant. Instead: "I hope I never stop wanting to learn. Even the hard stuff."

She glances at me. And I swear… there's warmth there. Barely, but there.

We keep going. Laughing. Teasing. A few rounds in, Karla pulls a wildcard and reads aloud:

"If money wasn’t an issue, what would you do with your life?"

June and I both speak at the same time.

"Work with kids."

Everyone freezes. Then bursts out laughing.

“Jinx!” Lily grins.

I look at June. She looks at me. And something clicks in my chest.

She didn’t plan that. I didn’t either. But there it is. Raw. True.

She blinks first. Looks away. Scott elbows her lightly and says something, but I miss it.

Because I’m still looking at the woman who just unknowingly exposed a piece of her soul that matches mine.

Kids.

Why does that mean something to her?

What made her say it with so much certainty?

And why do I feel like if I knew the answer—I’d understand everything else too?

For me, maybe it’s because I didn’t have anyone like that growing up. No one older who showed up, asked the right questions, stuck around long enough to give a damn.

Sometimes I wonder how different things would’ve felt—if someone had.

Maybe that’s why I like coaching. Why it gets under my skin in the best way.

And maybe that’s what June sees too.

Later, all four ladies at our table get up to sing with the fire crew—Tara and Karla harmonizing beside June and Lily—the rest of the town crowds in like it’s the highlight of the night.

The song—some easy, familiar anthem half the room joins in on—lodges under my skin like it belongs there.

June glances toward the crowd mid-verse, laughing at something Karla does with the mic, and I make a silent vow right then: learn this song. Memorize every word so I can sing it with her next time.

Anything that makes her light up like that is something I want to understand.

Her voice cuts through the chatter. Strong. Clear. No bravado. Just presence.

She doesn’t sing like she’s performing. She sings like she’s letting you in.

And I want in so badly, it makes my fingers twitch.

I lean toward Levi, voice low. "Is this a musical town or does everyone just sing this much?"

He smirks. "You should see what we do at the Fourth of July cookout."

When June comes offstage, Scott is the first to greet her. He pulls her into a warm hug, and the whole crowd erupts with cheers and claps like she just won a gold medal.

"That girl’s got lungs and loyalty," Karla murmurs, grinning. "Scott’s a lucky one."

Tara adds, "He’s not just a firefighter—he’s a lieutenant, right? A couple weeks after I moved here, my neighbor’s shed caught fire. I panicked and called 911, and Scott showed up with his team in under four minutes. He was calm, kind, and efficient. Checked my whole property just to make sure it was safe."

She smiles, clearly still impressed. "People don’t forget stuff like that."

Karla leans in. "And you’re just in a long line of women in this town who swoon over him. It's like watching a Hallmark movie in real time."

Scott laughs when he returns to the table with June, rubbing the back of his neck. "Pretty sure I was just doing my job."

"I thought you and June were just best buddies," Tara says, nudging his arm.

Scott shrugs, glancing at June. "We are. Always have been."

Lily raises an eyebrow and grins. "You mean like us?" She hooks her thumb toward Levi. "Married best buddies?"

The whole table laughs, but my chest tightens.

I watch June laughs against Scott’s shoulder, her arms looping around his waist in a way that makes something sharp twist in my gut.

That’s when I move.

I don’t let myself think. I just reach for her hand, curling mine around her wrist gently but firmly, and pull her with me through the side door.

She follows without a word.

Someone behind us calls out, "Camp stuff?"

Behind us, I hear Scott’s reply, "Probably. June mentioned something about a little end-of-camp party earlier. Maybe they’re just figuring out final details."

I grit my teeth.

How often do these two talk?

Because Scott’s got answers like he’s on her speed dial—and the thought lodges hard behind my ribs, bitter and immediate.

The cold hits us both as we step outside, breath clouding in the air. June stumbles and I stop and hold her till she knows she’s safe with me.

Then we continue, till we reach the firehouse brick wall. I turn to face her. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted. She’s beautiful and infuriating in ways that don’t come with warning labels.

"Tell me right now, Songbird. Is that what you want? Him?”