Yearn A. Ellis (carter reed .TXT) 📖

I ignored the thought. Didn’t matter. Dre and I were nothing to each other. We were much too different and we just needed to survive this temporary roommate situation and move on to bigger and better things while forgetting the other even existed.

Even if I didn’t hate him. Even if he didn’t get under my skin just by breathing. I’d sworn off anything resembling a relationship after Blaine. Hell, I struggled even with friendships. I’d been burned and vowed I’d never again trust anyone with my emotions, my heart.

“How the hell should I know? We got the same damn text. That woman is a complete hard-ass and there’s no guessing what burr she’s got up her ass this time.” I drummed my thumb on the steering wheel.

“She may be a hard-ass, but I think she’s good at what she does.” Dre took his earbuds out.

Great, now he thinks we’re going to talk?

“After I left Bellville, I did the whole college thing, but much to my parents’ chagrin, I got my degree and never looked back. They wanted me to get my masters and my doctorate, but I knew academia wasn’t for me. I knew I wanted to get into fashion design, but I also knew that one didn’t just walk into that field without either really good luck or a lot of persistence—or both—so I became an EMT. Figured I could work at something I enjoyed and still have time for creating and pushing my designs,” Dre rattled on.

“Why are you telling me this? Is there a point somewhere?” I didn’t give a shit about Dre’s past. Although, I hadn’t been at all surprised when I learned he was working to get into fashion. Seemed a waste that he’d only gone as far as EMT when he could have done a little more work and become a paramedic. But what did I care? If he wanted to work as an EMT while getting his foot in the door as a fashion designer, what did it matter to me?

It didn’t and I needed to remember that.

Dre smiled—and I ignored the fact that it could still warm my blood—and waved a hand about while he continued. Dre was always talking with his hands—a trait that bordered right at the line of endearing and obnoxious. I took it as obnoxious and another reason to be annoyed by him at all times. “Right, the point. The point is, I worked on a few ambulance crews before I ended up at Aunt Bev’s. Julia is tough, but she’s good.”

He wasn’t wrong. I’d worked on several crews and this one—although smaller than many I’d worked on—ran like a well-oiled machine and it was likely due to the chief and our deputy chief—our immediate boss, Julia—but that didn’t mean I was going to tell him he was right. “I don’t care if she’s the best boss in the history of bosses. I don’t like being called into a meeting with her without some sort of heads up as to what it’s about. Being there with you makes it even worse.”

Dre opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but snapped it shut. “Yeah, hopefully it’s over quick and isn’t too painful.”

Trepidation churned in my gut. I’d gotten perfect monthly reviews since starting with the Remington ambulance crew. But I knew Dre also got perfect reviews. It wasn’t like we were competing against each other. As a paramedic, I was the one with more training and experience. Sure, EMTs were important, but…whatever, that wasn’t the point.

Would we be called in together if one of us were being fired? We were both the newest on the crew, but would they fire us both? No, that was ridiculous, there was no reason to think an EMT and a paramedic, both with stellar on-the-job performance reviews, would be let go.

Right?

I wouldn’t ever wish for someone to lose their job, but Dre had his aunt and his fashion to fall back on—he’d rebound, I was sure. I’d once thought his parents would be there as support, but I’d learned through hearsay in the house and from Gabby that Dre’s parents disowned him when he eventually—only recently—came out. Which was what had brought him to Bev’s Remington Place.

But I needed this job. I needed the room at Bev’s with the super low rent while I rebuilt my life. I didn’t plan to stay in Remington forever, but I needed time to lick my wounds, heal my heart, get my head on straight, and pick myself up, ready to face the rest of my life after the shit with Blaine nearly knocked me down for good.

You know Dre makes less than you, he probably needs the job just as much.

I gritted my teeth. Why did I give a fuck?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. We weren’t being fired because that would make zero sense.

“So, you don’t have any guesses?” Dre pushed the subject again.

“No,” I bit out. “If I did, none of them would be good. No reason to contemplate the unknown. We’ll be there in a bit and find out then.”

Dre sighed. “None of them good?”

“You really think she’s going to call us into a Sunday meeting to tell us anything that isn’t shitty?” I sneered at Dre and rolled my eyes.

His eyes flashed with worry and anger before he shrugged.

My phone buzzed just as I noticed Dre checking his as well. With a quick glance at the screen, I saw it was from the deputy chief. Not about to read a text while driving—I saw way too many wrecks from texting behind the wheel—I threw a look toward Dre. “You get a text from Julia?”

Dre sighed. “Yeah. She’s pushing the meeting back because she needs us to pick up some supplies.”

“The fuck? She messes with my Sunday and now she wants me to be her delivery boy?” My damn molars were going to be nubs by the time this day was over.

“The fire station and the hospital,