The Anti-Social Season (First Responders #2)

Chapter Ten

Ten

I t took a week for them to be able to schedule that date. Daytime meetings were fraught, the sexual tension between them always simmering, regardless of whether they were doing a training session, an event where Thea shadowed Simon, or the two events where Thea took the lead and Simon acted as her camera operator and advisor.

Despite the distraction, Thea found the library and its operations fascinating. She was well aware of the kinds of political machinations that occurred behind the scenes with county services and funding, but it seemed like the library was operating with five times the issues that Emergency Services did. Simon, for his part, seemed intrigued by the safety services and lessons that she found to be second nature, asking cogent questions that helped her translate her message to an adult audience who wasn’t so well-versed in all things fire safety. Their back-and-forth as they discussed different ways of delivering emergency services messages to adults was energizing, and learning new techniques for creating and editing videos and graphics was fun. Simon wasn’t just a sexy distraction, he was a great collaborator.

For the next week, she arranged for an equipment demonstration, scheduling it at a different firehouse than the one she used to work at. It was still too soon to go back.

Maybe it would always be too soon.

The thought was a sickening wrench. She hadn’t been back since that day she picked up her stuff. Nobody on the squad had reached out either. After work one night, she went to the local community recreation center and signed up, touring the facilities and discovering a nicely laid out gym with newer equipment than she was used to at the firehouse.

She didn’t need anyone else to work out, after all. She could do that on her own too. She pumped iron, her muscles complaining after her period of relative inactivity, then set herself on a punishing run on the treadmill with plenty of incline intervals. It wasn’t like she needed that strength for her job now. But she wanted it. It was a part of her, even if her old squad and her old life wasn’t anymore.

Finally, Saturday night loomed. She’d checked on Mrs. M and made sure the hoses and outdoor faucets were empty and ready for a cold snap. Maybe it was premature, but she needed to feel busy, and the weather had been trending colder than usual this December. In advance of the decorators who would make the big house ready for the holiday, a grounds crew had strung lights on the trees lining the driveway.

For her part, Thea cleaned her own little house and even considered her own holiday decorating for the first time and dithered over her clothes. She even messed around with makeup, putting some on, taking it off, then reapplying in a way that felt less clownish to her. Simon hadn’t told her what they were doing, just maddeningly informed her that whatever she wore wouldn’t matter.

“What do I wear if he says clothes don’t matter?” she’d asked her sister on a panicked video call.

Giada rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want, goof. Do I have to come over there and dress you?”

“At least you asked first,” Thea said, pointedly looking at the screen. Her sister had a habit of just showing up whenever she felt like it, even though she knew Thea hated it.

“Whatever,” Gia said. Then her attention sharpened to something beyond her screen and a crash resonated through Thea’s speakers. “Matt, you stop knocking over Nic’s blocks or so help me, I’ll take all the blocks away.” A howl from the two boys was cut off almost magically by her sister’s raised finger and a sharp ssst!

“You’re a wizard, I swear,” Thea said. “I can never get them to settle down that fast.”

“They know I’m not kidding about the blocks. This isn’t baseball. They only get two strikes.”

“Tough, but fair,” Thea commented. “But back to me. What the hell do I wear?”

“Easy. If you can’t decide, just wear black,” her sister said.

So now, here she was, minutes from Simon’s arrival at her house. Examining her outfit, her hair, her clothes in a full-length mirror in a way she hadn’t for years. She’d dated when she was on the squad, but mostly guys she met from various charity events the team had taken part in. Those guys saw her as a firefighter first and foremost. A novelty, usually, which was why they never lasted long.

She didn’t know what Simon saw her as.

A knock at her front door startled her out of her musings. Well, she guessed this was what she was wearing, right or wrong.

Simon fidgeted on Thea’s doormat, wondering for the twentieth time if he should have brought her something. Flowers, maybe. Except that seemed too conventional. But what did you bring as a gift for a date who was unconventional the way Thea was? Maybe, given her background, she’d enjoy a bouquet of...what, roses? No, too much pressure on both of them. Daisies? Maybe that was too ordinary.

Before he could think of another type of flower he hadn’t brought, the door swung open and there she was. Her eyes looked bigger, deeper. Silvery jewelry dangled from her ears and her mouth...

Oh man. Her bare mouth was usually a pretty, pale pink, but she’d put something on her lips to deepen the color and they were shiny like they had been during that first lunch.

He tore his gaze away from her mouth, realizing he’d fixated on her lips for a little—or a lot—too long. Her eyes were dancing with humor.

“So, you going to finally tell me where we’re going?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. You willing to take this expedition on trust?”

“Sure,” she said, grabbing a coat from a hook beside the door. “Do I need anything besides this?”

“Nope. Just yourself.”

She nodded, then stepped out, closing and locking the door behind her. “Let’s get to it, then.”

They walked to his car, Simon wishing he’d at least kissed her cheek instead of staring at her like a poleaxed goon. He realized a beat too late that he could have opened the car door for her, but was already halfway around his front bumper on the way to the driver’s side. Getting in, he let a little frustrated growl escape his throat.

“You okay over there?” Thea asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess there’s no point in trying to be suave or cool or anything like that, is there?”

She leaned into his space and nudged his shoulder with hers. “Spoiler alert. I don’t like suave or cool. I like you.”

He shot her a smile which felt tight. “Spoiler alert, I like you too.” I always have hovered in the air between them. But somehow that felt like too much to admit when he was already feeling so off balance and raw. He started up the car. “I can tell you that we’re taking the Metro to our destination. That okay?”

She clutched her chest in exaggerated horror. “What, and leave the suburbs?” Dropping her hands to her lap, she laughed. “Sounds cool. I’m intrigued.”

He should have felt relieved at that, but somehow he only felt more anxious. Thea might not be the fearless woman he’d taken her for before, but she was still his iconic crush. Could he even begin to measure up?

Good grief, but Simon was wound up tight. Thea clocked his nerves ratcheting tighter and tighter as he drove them to the Metro station, then as they rode the train, then as they ascended the absurdly long escalator at Dupont Circle. On an impulse, she grasped his hand as they stepped off into the glow of the evening streetlights. He glanced at her, startled, and she squeezed, hoping she wasn’t fucking everything up and overstepping.

His expression softened and he adjusted his grip, lacing his fingers through hers, and she felt tension in her own shoulders she hadn’t been aware of easing. She shook their clasped hands gently and said, “This is going to be fun.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“How are you so sure?” His face looked like he was trying for teasing, but it still came off as unsure.

She stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk and faced Simon, ignoring the annoyed grunt of a man who had to detour around them. “Because I’m with you.”

He sighed. “I’m not fun.”

“Who says?”

His expression was resigned. “Everyone.”

“Good thing I’m not everyone. Where are we going?”

His gaze shifted to the left. “I saw you checked out the latest compilation of Inferno Girl ?”

Excitement started to rise in her, though she tried to keep her cool. “Yeah?”

He must have seen her reaction, because while his lips didn’t curve, the impish glint that was a prelude to the smile she loved so much sparked in his eyes. “Okay, then.” He stepped out, pulling her along with him through the tourists, the office workers heading home, past a busker with a guitar belting out an unfortunate homage to Springsteen’s version of “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.” Their destination was a comic shop on the second floor of a converted row house just outside the circle. “Go ahead and browse. I have something to do,” he said. She lifted her eyebrows, but didn’t question him otherwise, just went to the shelves to look at the titles while he conferred quietly with the woman behind the counter. Thea was just tugging out something that looked interesting to her when he came back to her side, a slim paper bag in his hand. “Here.”

“What’s this?” she asked, taking it from him.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s for you.”

She slid a book out, the latest edition of the comic book series she’d checked out from the library the week before. “Thanks. That’s so sweet.” He’d noticed what she liked to read. How incredibly darling and on-brand.

“But wait. There’s more.” He gently opened the cover and pointed at a black Sharpie squiggle on the title page. The squiggle resolved itself into text: Thea—glow brightly! Then another squiggle she couldn’t make out.

Then she gaped as realization hit her. “Oh my god. Did Suzanne St. Pierre sign this? For me?” The comic that she and Luca had first bonded over.

Suddenly, she missed Luca and the squad so hard, her chest felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. But conversely, her heart was swelling with bubbly, fluttering, giddy joy. Somehow, Simon had known. He’d known what this book meant to her and he’d gone above and beyond by getting a copy for her signed by the creator. She felt seen in a way she never had before.

He nodded. “She was in town earlier this week. They had an in-store event, so I ordered it for you.”

Warmth swelled in Thea’s middle and her eyes prickled. Do not cry , she told herself sternly. “This might be the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.” Dammit, her voice was wobbly.

Simon looked stricken. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, blinking. “Yeah. I just didn’t expect anything like this. You caught me off guard. People don’t get me gifts very often.” She traced her finger over the signature. The artist had also included a little doodle of the eponymous heroine next to her signature—rougher than the way she was usually rendered, but all the more precious because it had been drawn specifically for her. “Thank you,” she finally said, closing the cover and sliding it back into the paper bag to keep it safe.

“Come on. Unless you want to get something else while we’re here?”

She shook her head, and this time, he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as he led her out of the store.

“I have to admit I really have only one trick for this date and I’m basically repeating it,” Simon admitted as they waited to cross the street.

“You taking me to see my favorite singer and getting some signed merch?” she asked. “Wait, you’re not, are you? Because I’m not sure my poor little heart could take that.”

“Nah. But I’ll bear it in mind for the future if you let me know who your favorite artist is.”

She shot him an impish, sideways look. “I’m not sure I should tell you. I feel like you’re way too good at this whole gifting thing.”

In reality, it had just been luck. He happened to get the email from the comic shop about the signing the day after they’d decided to go on a date, and a quick phone call had been enough to reserve a signed copy for her even though he couldn’t be at the event in person.

But honestly, nothing had prepared him for the way her face went all soft and full of wonder as she realized what he’d done. Like many librarians, he didn’t have much use for books as objects. He was far too used to weeding copies from the collection if they were outdated, damaged or just worn-out. What books contained—their knowledge, their entertainment, their wisdom—was what really interested him about them.

But he also made an exception for books that were unique in some way: signed or specially bound or otherwise exceptional. So, it was easy for him to imagine that such a book would also be nice for Thea. “What did you mean when you said people don’t usually get you gifts?” he asked as they crossed the street.

She shrugged, the paper bag that contained her book crinkling audibly under her arm. “My family says I’m hard to buy for.”

Hard to buy for? She was literally the easiest person he’d ever bought a gift for. Granted, the opportunity fell in his lap, but even without the artist’s signature to make the present meaningful, he could imagine all kinds of things she might like. Music from her favorite artist—he’d have to figure that one out—a day trip to a special place, a small luxury that she wouldn’t usually buy for herself. Thea definitely seemed like the kind of person who didn’t buy herself a lot of little luxuries. Her home was cozy, but spartan. She didn’t wear jewelry very often from what he could tell. He liked the idea of figuring out what might be precious to her, what she might treasure.

“Here we are. Like I said, one-trick pony over here.” He waved at the door of the bookstore/café, wondering if he should have taken her to the annual Christmas market in Penn Quarter instead. “This time, if you want to buy a book, I don’t have any surprises planned.”