Page 18 of Sweet Hate (If You Dare #1)

AXEL

G laring at the coffee maker, I jam the button a few more times. Where is my coffee? Playing whack-a-mole with this piece of crap was not on my agenda for today.

While I wait, I stare down at her message, like I have the entire night. I lay awake, tossing and turning in the bunk room, typing and deleting over and over, trying like hell to answer her question without giving away too much and screwing up our tentative truce.

What was I supposed to say?

Sorry, Haven. I lied when I said nothing would change because the minute I kissed you, I realized I’d loved you all along and friendship wouldn’t be enough.

Your leaving detonated my heart and brought me to my knees both metaphorically and physically.

But don’t worry, it’s fine now. Let’s be friends.

As if.

Raking my hand through my hair does nothing to lessen the tension flooding through me. I could kick myself.

I knew it was bound to come up. If she had been the one to disappear on me, wouldn’t I demand to know why?

Swiping over to my photos, I trace the outline of her smiling face in the cotton candy one I set as her contact picture. Seeing her beautiful face appear every time she messaged me last night gave me the biggest buzz. For the first time in forever, I felt like me again. I felt happy. Whole.

Now, I’ve essentially ghosted her again. I doubt she’ll be quick to forgive that a second time.

I rub absently, trying to ease the burn that settles in my chest. Indigestion—that’s what it is.

Wrong.

Sighing, I toss my phone on the counter and jam angrily at the button again.

“Jesus, Verona, what did Caffeine Cathy ever do to you?”

I stare blankly at Beckett’s wide grin, his green eyes dancing with mischief. I don’t have the capacity to deal with his antics this morning.

“Caffeine Cathy?”

He lovingly strokes the coffee machine currently withholding the one thing I need to hold my shit together.

“This is Caffeine Cathy. She’s here, day in, day out, dealing with our stupid asses pushing her buttons, and yet she never fails to deliver. It didn’t feel right to leave her nameless.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy standing here hammering the coffee machine that’s switched off at the socket.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck. Did you get any sleep?”

He calmly reaches over and presses the switch on the wall, and I finally hear the sweet sound of the machine churning to life.

Leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arms, his full focus on me while I wait on my coffee. I mirror his stance and glare at him.

“No. ”

His eyes move to my abandoned phone on the counter as he lowers his voice.

“Because you spent the rest of the night arguing with yourself about contacting her? Or were you jerking off over her photos instead?”

“Fuck you, Fox. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Jesus Verona, chill! I’m joking. Well, half joking. I mean, you were staring at her photo in the office last night, remember? Not to mention you were also doing it a second ago, but I’m a gentleman, so I won’t point that out…much.”

“Yeah, smartass. Just shut the hell up. I don’t want the whole firehouse knowing my business.”

“Fine. But did you text her?”

“Yeah, I did, and then I fucked it all up again. Thanks for that.”

“What the hell did I do?”

“Texting her was your stupid idea. I believe your exact words were even you can’t screw that up . Turns out I can.”

“I believe Dr. Foxy added the word ‘surely’. To account for such eventualities as you not engaging your dick for brains before you talk.”

“Why are you referring to yourself in the third person? It doesn’t make the nickname any less ridiculous.”

“It’s less ridiculous than your face.” He winks as he hands me the steaming mug of coffee before starting his own. “So, what happened?”

“We texted back and forth. I got her to agree to play truth or dare like an idiot, and of course, she asked me why I stopped texting her after she left. That’s it.”

“What do you mean that’s it? What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“ Nothing ?” His voice raises three octaves as his eyebrows shoot straight up to the sky. I’d almost laugh at how comedic pretty boy Beckett looks if I didn’t feel like drowning myself in self-pity right now.

“You dumb prick. What the—? You thought the correct response to a question about you ghosting her was to not text her back again? How the fuck did you make lieutenant? That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard, and I’m known for doing stupid shit.

Jesus Christ. I don’t know why I bother trying to help your sorry fucking ass. Give me your phone.”

“What? No.”

I try to grab it off the counter, but he’s faster, since he’s not holding a steaming mug of coffee. Flashing it at my face, he unlocks it and stares down at the screen. Brows furrowed in concentration, he types something and sends it, if the swoosh is any indication.

Standing up, his face still looking eerily serious, he grabs his mug of coffee and shoves my phone into my hand as he walks away.

“Thank me later, asshat.”

Staring down at the cell like I’ve just been handed a live grenade, I cautiously swipe at the screen.

Me

I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I’m not ready to answer that just yet, but I promise I will soon. Rain check?

Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? Will that be enough for her to talk to me again?

I hate that I’ve still got another full day on shift before I can see her. Even if things are still tense, just being in the same space, knowing she’s close by will ease this burning itch beneath my skin.

That’s all I need. I don’t want anything else. I know she doesn’t belong here. And I know I sure as shit don’t want a relationship—that won’t ever be in the cards for me—but to be able to look at her, talk to her, laugh with her…

Ugh, I’m like a Backstreet Boys song.

Pushing away from the counter, I walk back into my office, determined to clear some of the paperwork until we get called out.

Just as I pull out my chair, my cell chimes with an incoming message. I force myself to take a minute before I look at the screen, not sure what I’ll find. Hopefully not her telling me to fuck off.

I suck in a deep breath and brace myself.

Hurricane

I’m sorry. It’s totally my fault. It was too soon to push. Don’t worry about it.

This doesn’t tell me much. Will she be open to talking again, or is this her way of absolving me of my shit but drawing a line in the sand?

I analyze it like a lovesick teenage girl, half wishing I could get Beckett’s take on it too since he’s inserted himself into this whole situation, when Cap walks in and shuts the door.

“Lieutenant, there’s a few things I need to discuss with you.”

Sitting upright, I abandon my phone and all thoughts of Haven as I stare at the stern man in front of me.

“Yes, Cap, what’s up?”

He takes a seat, assessing me with shrewd eyes. Because of course I would look like shit on the one day he wants to chat.

I run a hand through my hair in a last-ditch attempt to make myself look slightly less like the walking dead and wait.

“Verona, I’m sure you’ve heard some rumors floating around about the possibility of my early retirement.”

What’s the correct answer here? Do I agree and look like I’ve been gossiping, or play dumb ?

I settle on a stiff nod, halfway between agreeing and telling him to go on.

“Well, it’s true. I’m sorry you found out that way.

I’d have preferred to discuss it with you first, but you know how things go.

Rumors spread like wildfire.” He laughs at his own pun.

“That being said, I’ll be looking to promote one of my lieutenants to captain of this firehouse.

I’ll be observing all of you in the coming weeks and then following up with an interview for the role.

I’ll make my final decision and official announcement after that. Any questions?”

“No, sir. Understood. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“Don’t let me down, Verona.”

He gets up and walks out, but my mind’s still reeling. Did his parting line mean he wants me to get the job? I’ve worked damn hard to get where I am, climbing up the ladder to become the youngest lieutenant this district has ever had. To make captain so young would be unheard of.

I used to look up to Cap even as a kid. I’d constantly ask him to tell me stories of his career, creating a deep-rooted fire within me to be like him.

He was so cool, calm, and collected in the face of any danger.

He’d run into burning buildings and save people without a second thought.

The day he saved my parents and I from a car wreck drove it home.

Some kids looked up to superheroes, but I never did.

Cap has always been my superhero, and I knew I wanted to do what he did someday.

This right here is why I can’t afford any distractions. I need to focus and bring my A game. This promotion would mean hitting my life goal before I turn thirty-five, and all in my hometown. If the B shift lieutenant gets it, it’s unlikely for me to progress to captain here anytime soon.

I need to get my shit together. I can’t afford to get swept up in my Hurricane—not when the rest of my life is on the line.

It’s not like she’ll be sticking around to be part of it.

So why do I need to text her again?