I pushed off the floor. The next steps were becoming all too familiar: flush, faucet, soap, rinse, toothbrush, toothpaste, scrub, spit, rinse. The only thing surprising was that I was hungry again.

Back in Laundry, I pulled my wet clothes and towels from the washer and put them in the dryer. I took a few steps back and sat in a white molded plastic chair that looked like the ones I used to sit in in elementary school.

“You don’t look so good,” Sylvia said. The others showed their agreement with nodding heads.

“The um…There was pizza in the lobby today. It didn’t sit right with me.”

“Pizza,” she deadpanned.

Sylvia didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame her. My forehead felt damp, and I was sure I was a lovely shade of green. The dryer began to spin my pants, shirt, and undergarments in a gentle rhythm. Laundry was calming, even though the baby powder/lavender/old-lady smell made me want to hurl.

Sylvia didn’t pry. She and her colleagues went back to folding and ironing, speaking in hushed Spanish.

“Senorita?” Rosa said softly, pressing on my shoulder. “Senorita?”

I blinked my eyes, seeing that the clothes in the dryer had settled at the bottom. I roused, looking around. Rosa and I were the only ones still in Laundry.

“I’m sorry. It’s almost three. I needed the dryer, so I pulled your clothes.”

I sat up straight. “Almost three?”

Rosa simply shrugged and pointed to an empty table. My clothes were folded perfectly, freshly pressed.

“Did you do this?” I asked, taking them off the table. Rosa nodded, and I sighed. “Thank you. Thank you so much! I have to go! I’m late! Sorry!”

Without waiting for Rosa’s response, I ripped open the door and rushed down the hall to my room. The clock on the nightstand read fifteen minutes ’til three.

I pulled up my hair and jumped in the shower, rinsing off in record time before jumping out to quickly shimmy my skin with the towel. In two minutes, I’d brushed my teeth and washed my face, and then I ran into the bedroom to get dressed.

“Thank you, Rosa,” I said, putting on my lightly starched slacks and shirt. She could’ve let them sit in the dryer, and I would be going to work in wrinkled clothes. I brushed my hair and put on my black flats and checked that I had my room key before letting the door slam behind me.

Before I reached the lobby, I could hear the low rumble of chatter, even more than the day before. As suspected, the room was full of hotshots, some back from their cycle at the mountain, others readying to head out, some just arriving.

Maya was still working on a line waiting to check in, and I jumped in to help. We didn’t speak, we didn’t take time for introductions, instead just working to get the guests their key cards so they could put their things away before rejoining their fellow hotshots. Maya’s short, dark hair batted at her cheeks every time she moved, her glasses setting on her full, apricot-blushed cheeks. Her makeup made her look more beauty blogger than front desk clerk, and I made a mental note to ask her if my theory was right later.

After an hour of working together, we conquered the line, and Maya sighed. “Holy hell, that was nuts. Thanks for the help.”

“Thanks for staying.”

She shrugged. “Stavros told me I’d probably need to. I’m Maya,” she said, holding out her hand. I took it, surprised by her firm grip.

She turned and bent down, bringing up with her a purse and a clear makeup bag. It was full to the brim with powders, eye shadows, mascaras, foundations, brushes, concealers, highlighters, and everything else I’d ever seen in a Sephora.

“Wow,” I said.

“Yeah.” She chuckled, unzipping the top. “I don’t even use half of it. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it. Hey…do you wear makeup?”

“I…”—I shook my head—“used to, but can’t afford any right now. It’s on the list.”

She stared at my face. “My God, the things I could do with those cheekbones and eyes. And your brows…” She reached, and I backed away.

“Need work. I know. I sort of had to leave in a hurry.”

“Oh, shit. Was it a fire or something?” She looked down at her makeup bag. “If there were a fire, I’d grab this first.”

I laughed, but she was serious. She dug into her bag, pulling out items with the seal still on them, and a few sample-sized pieces. “Here. You can’t just not have makeup.”

“What? I can’t take yours.”

“I haven’t used them. I have a YouTube channel with like forty thousand followers. Companies send me free shit all the time.”

“A YouTube channel?”

She grinned. “Yeah. I tell stories and discuss random topics. Sometimes I do makeup tutorials. It’s so lame, but people love to hear about my misery.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “I make up most of it. Whatever, it’s for followers, right? Just look up Maya Bee.”

“Maya…?”

“Bee,” she said, still picking through her bag. “It’s short for Berkowitz. No one is going to the trouble of searching Maya Berkowitz on YouTube. That’s why there’s Miranda Sings, and the goddess of YouTubers, Jenna Marbles. There. You have the basics. And some kickass highlighter. Highlighter should be a basic. And baking powder. It’s my jam.”

“I don’t…”

“It lightens up your under eye, and honey…you need it. Look at my YouTube channel. I do a whole review on it. The foundation might be a half shade off, but if you’d go outside once in a while it would match.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking down at the pile of makeup on the desk.

“Okay, I’m off. Have a good night.”

“You, too,” I said, baffled. No one had ever given me anything before. Certainly not a stranger. I wanted to tell her that I did go outside, that I walked everywhere I went, but then I’d have to explain why I looked like death, so I let her walk away.

Maya waved to Stavros, who was shaking something behind the bar for a bleach blonde getting plenty of attention from the hotshots. Stavros looked at me, and jerked his head up, signaling for me to come over. I complied, wondering if he was going to high-five me for triumphing over the line, or scold me for barely making it on time. By his expression, it could have gone either way.

“Here,” he said, setting a bottle of water on the table.

I picked it up and looked over the label. “Do you want me to bring this to a room?” I asked.

“No, I want you to drink it. You look a little green. And parched.”

“Oh,” I said, twisting open the cap. I took a small swig, then several large ones. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. “Thank you.”

Stavros nodded once. “I know you said you felt fine, but I can see that you don’t. The guys over here were talking about it. The dark circles, the drooping eyes. You look like Tilde. I’d send you home, but you live here, and I have no one else.”

“I’m really okay.”

A small smile cracked his hardened expression. “I appreciate you being a trouper. I really do. If we weren’t full of alcoholic firefighters, I’d take over for you so you could rest. Just…take it easy. Nothing extra.”

“Thanks, Stavros,” I said, noting his guilty expression before I made my way back across the lobby with the bottle of water in hand.

“I’ve got some Pepto pills in my room.”

I looked up with a tired smile. It was one of the hotshots I’d heard called Sugar. All I wanted was a nap. “Thanks, I’m okay. The water is helping.”

“You got a stomach virus or something?” he asked. He was enormous, a tad bigger than Maddox, but I could tell outside of fire season, he was even more massive. His clean-shaved head made him look more like a Marine than a firefighter. He would be intimidating if it weren’t for the kindness in his eyes.

“No, just trying to adjust to the elevation, I think.”

He nodded again, peeking over his shoulder, as I reorganized the front desk for the second time since clocking in.

“Everything okay, Sugar?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I hang out here a minute?”

“Of course. Are the boys bothering you?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m going out soon, and my moms is calling. She’s a worrier. She cries. A lot. I can’t go back to my room because Fish is rooming with me, and he’s a good guy, but he loves to give me grief about my moms. She’s all alone at home. It’s just us. She wants me to live my life, but she…”

“Worries.”

He nodded.

“You can take all the time you need.”

His cell phone rang a quiet tune. “Thank you. Hey, Mom. Yep, still at the hotel. No, not going out today. They’re thinking in the morning.”

I could hear her fussing from where I stood, and it made sense why he wanted to stand across the room. She was just telling her son how much she loved him, but her voice was shrill, and it made me nervous. I couldn’t imagine how it made Sugar feel. I was going to give him his space, but then decided he was standing beside me for a reason. If I walked away, the other guys would likely take my place and listen in.

I pretended to be busy with the computer, trying not to hear Sugar sweetly comfort his mother, reassuring her about his turn on the mountain. His deep voice was cathartic, lulling the nausea I was feeling away, helping my shoulders to relax and my mind to quiet down. I barely noticed Trex approach my desk.

“Hey there,” he said, hope in his eyes.

“Hi,” I said, trying not to look so happy he was back. I looked at my watch. “Is it that time already?” I felt awkward around him now. Forget the butterflies, cannons were going off in my stomach, and I was sure that couldn’t be good for Bean. Stop it, I scolded myself.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Trex asked. He was joking, but I still felt a need to defend poor Sugar. “He’s talking to his…sister.”

Sugar winked at me.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Trex said with an amused smile.

Sugar plugged his other ear and turned his back to Trex, keeping his voice low. “Yes, Mama, I will. Yes, ma’am.” He waited while she prayed loudly over him, sounding like a sermon during an intense revival. “Amen. Thank you, Mama. Love you, too. Bye now.” He slipped the phone in his pocket and nodded to me, looking sheepish. “You see now why I take the calls away from the guys.”

“Fuck ’em if they can’t understand you’re a good son,” Trex said, matter-of-fact.

Sugar thought about his words and nodded once. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be ashamed. I’m ashamed that I’m ashamed.”

Trex patted Sugar’s enormous shoulder. “That sounds exhausting. You need to let all that go, man. Be you unapologetically. Love your mom, be a good son, let the others hear her be comforted by her prayers. It might do them some good.”

Sugar nodded. “Thanks, Trex.”

Trex nodded once, watched Sugar walk away with a smile on his face, and then turned to me. “Speaking of being exhausted, I’m sorry I kept you up talking for so long.”

“I knew better,” I said. “I’m a big girl. I know when to say good night.”

“I must have been decent company, then.”

I tried not to smile. I tried really, really hard, but it happened, and it gave everything I was trying not to feel away. That only made me disappointed in myself, how I could run away from one man and not take enough fear and anger with me to keep me from falling right back into something else. Maybe. Whatever this was.

“I mean, I guess,” I said, looking down.

Trex’s confident smile wavered. “Everything okay?”

I felt my cheeks flush and my hands shake. This seemed like a confrontation, even though it wasn’t. The parts of me ingrained to please and make others happy were warring with my need to raise my baby independent of a man—independent in general. “Yes…I’m just…you’re really nice.”

“Uh-oh.”

I breathed out a laugh. “No, it’s not that.”

He winced. “Is this the it’s not you it’s me speech? Because we haven’t even been on a proper date yet—even though last night was pretty great.”

That damn smile stretched across my face again. “It was. It was great.”

He watched me for a moment, no doubt trying to use his superhuman people-reading skills to decide what I meant instead of what I was saying. “Darby…I don’t know what you’re running from, but it’s not me.”

I shook my head. “I’m not running anymore.”

“Like I said…you’re a terrible liar.”

“Maybe I just don’t like you.”

He took a moment to answer. For the first time, he seemed unsure. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” I said, flustered. It hurt me to see his reaction, and that made me panic. “You don’t believe in God, for one.”

“You don’t like me because I don’t believe in god? Jesus hung out with the scum of the earth in the Bible. Jewish tax collectors. Do you know how much the Jews hated men like Zacchaeus for collecting taxes from their own people for the Romans? He was a traitor, and he was also one of twelve of Jesus’s BFFs.”

“And you’re manipulative,” I snapped.

Trex didn’t get mean or defensive like I expected; instead his smile only grew softer, his shoulders more relaxed. He was much better at this than I was, and he knew I was full of shit. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very nice.”

“Don’t be sorry!” I closed my eyes tight, feeling like it was a losing battle.

“Why? Because it’ll be easier to hate me if I’m an asshole? I’m not perfect, but I’m not an asshole. And I like you, even though you’re mean as hell and lie a lot.”

“I don’t lie a lot,” I said, exasperated. “I just don’t know you well enough to tell you the truth.”

His expression grew serious. “Fair enough. But you can talk to me. Whatever you have to say would stay between us. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Then stay away from me,” I said, grabbing a small notebook and a pen. I quickly headed for the safety of Stavros at the bar. “Hey,” I said, out of breath even though I’d only walked across the room.

Stavros turned his back to the men at the bar, working on drying the same glass. “Is Trex bothering you?”

“What? No. No, he’s nice.”

“Oh,” Stavros said.

“Can you tell me the steps for closing out?” I asked, pen at the ready.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done it. I have notes in my office somewhere.”

I sighed. “Can you just…pretend to give me the notes?”

He leaned in. “All right, what’s going on?” He kept his voice low, too quiet for the hotshots sitting at the bar to hear.

“Nothing. Nothing is going on. Trex is just very…”

“Cute?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes, anyone with eyes would agree he’s attractive. But…”

“Just tell him you’ve just gotten out of a relationship and aren’t looking for anything.”

I peeked up at my boss, grateful to have someone to talk to. “I can’t. He’ll know I’m not telling the whole truth.”

“Are you looking for a relationship?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Of course not, but…”

“But you’re clearly not ready yet, so he’ll either have to wait until you are, or move on.”

I cringed. “I can’t say that to him.”

Stavros winked at me, then turned toward his customers. “Sure you can.”

I pretended to write things down, glancing over my shoulder at Trex. He was staring right at me. He smiled and waved.

I sighed. “Okay. This is happening. I’m doing this,” I said, mostly to myself. I walked back to the front desk, keeping my posture erect and shoulders back, trying my best to stir up a little beauty queen confidence as I strode up to Trex. I smiled, pleasant and confident. “You’re right. I lied, and I apologize. You’re nice. And funny. And interesting…”

“And handsome. Don’t forget devastatingly handsome.”

“And arrogant.”

“I’m arrogant? I haven’t even asked you on a date yet, and you’re breaking up with me.”

“No. We’re definitely not breaking up.” He smiled again. He was beautiful and sweet and…No. No, Darby. Knock it off. “You know what I mean. We weren’t together to break up. I do like you, but I have to be honest. I’m not ready for a relationship of any kind, and I won’t be for a long time. And, by the time I am, I can promise you won’t be interested.”

“Is that so?” he said, picking up on the last part.

I cringed. The goal was to not invite more questions, and I’d just ripped off my skin and exposed everything.

He ignored my comment for the moment. “What about just a friendship?”

“You just want to be friends?” Ugh. That smile again. Stop smiling, Trex.

“Of course not. I think you’re amazing, even when you look like you’re about to puke.”

I sighed. His small grin was adorable, and it was chipping away at my resolve. And the fact that had I not been pregnant, I would have jumped all over this—and him—was just flat-out embarrassing. “I don’t feel that’s possible.”

“Because you like me.”

“I barely know you.”

“But enough to like me.”

My shoulders fell, and the confidence melted away under his assured smile. “How about you just give me some space?”

“I can try. We both live in the same building. And you work here.”

I cringed. “You’re right. That’s not going to work.”

“How about I pretend I don’t like you for a little while? Will that help?”

“Yes,” I said, excited. I pointed at him. “Yes, that will work. Thank you.”

He leaned over and kissed my cheek, his lips soft and warm on my skin. “You got it, beautiful.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into him slightly just before he walked away. I stood holding my hand to the still-warm patch of skin his lips had just touched. The cannons inside my stomach raged on like I hadn’t just lost another battle.

Stavros eyed me, his eyes targeting Zeke when he stood to head toward me. Stavros’s expression matched my inner monologue.

My head and my heart were at war, fighting over what I should do and what I wanted. It didn’t matter, though. Even if I gave in to my feelings, one of two things would happen: Trex would change, because in my experience, that’s what men did when they got what they wanted, or I would fall for him and in four to six months, my growing belly would send him running, leaving both of us—or maybe just me—heartbroken.