《The Purrfect Love Story》全部章節：第 21 章 - 第 30 章

Walking back into Station 9 felt heavier than it should have. The place smelled the same, but I couldn’t shake the knot in my chest. It had been days since the warehouse fire, but Kearns’s version of events was still floating around, and the echo of his smug voice calling me reckless clung to me like soot. Lou was the first to catch me in the bay. She didn’t do pep talks, not really, but she had a way of cutting through the noise with one look. She crossed her arms, eyes sharp under the brim of her cap. “Rosario. Good work at the warehouse. Don’t let some blowhard convince you otherwise.” Her words should’ve landed like an anchor, something solid to hold on to. Instead, I just nodded, muttering, “Yes, Captain,” because that was all I could manage. Zach came in behind me, still in his civvies, dropping by before his own shift started. He clapped a hand on my back so hard I nearly stumbled. “You did what needed to be done. Kearns can talk himself into a corner, but you pulled people o

The thing about firehouses, word spreads faster than smoke. By the time I walked into Station 9’s kitchen for morning coffee, I already knew Kearns had been flapping his mouth again. Didn’t matter that we’d pulled his guy and a civilian out of a damn collapsing warehouse. Didn’t matter that half the station had seen him ignore Lou’s orders with their own eyes. What mattered was that Kearns had seniority, and apparently a talent for twisting facts. “Rosario the bartender,” I heard someone mutter near the lockers. Not my guys, never them. Probably a rookie from Kearns’s station who’d stopped in. He laughed as if it were funny, as if my presence was some punchline. I poured my coffee slowly, trying not to let it spill as my hand tightened around the pot. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth. I was thirty-one years old, and somehow I still felt like the kid everyone doubted. The one who never finished what he started. Lou must’ve seen the storm brewing in my face because her voice cut a

I barely slept. Goose snored, curled up against my ribs like he didn’t have a care in the world, but my brain wouldn’t shut off. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carolina at the table, cheeks tight, smile forced, her cousin tossing sugar-coated barbs like it was a sport. Bia. She was the kind of person I’d spent most of my life avoiding, the spotlight chasers, the ones who treated everything like a stage. It didn’t matter where they were. People like Bia wanted eyes on them. And when she hadn’t gotten mine, she’d sharpened her attention on Carolina instead. I hadn’t given her an ounce of interest. Instead, I kept my focus on Carolina, the way Goose did when she scribbled in that notebook of hers like the world depended on it. But I wasn’t blind. I saw the way Bia’s smirk lingered when she thought Carolina wasn’t watching. The way her questions dug like needles. And Carolina… she laughed, she brushed it off, but she was rattled. The last thing she needed was someone in her own fa

The second we were clear of the bar, I knew I wasn’t ready to take her back to her place. The idea of walking her through that door, knowing Bia would be there waiting with that smug little smirk, made my blood pressure spike. Carolina deserved better than another round of her cousin’s digs, and I needed a night where it was just us. No distractions. No noise. “Come with me,” I said once we were settled in the truck, my hand still wrapped around hers. She glanced at me, curls spilling from her scarf, notebook clutched like she was bracing for an interrogation. “With you where?” “My place,” I said. “Nothing fancy. Just takeout and beer. But it’ll be quiet. No one sticking their nose in.” Her lips curved like she was trying to hide a smile. “Takeout and beer sounds like heaven.” By the time we pulled into my building, the knot between my shoulders had eased. Goose met us at the door, trotting in circles with his tail high like he’d been waiting all night just for her. Carolina bent

The morning after should’ve been easy. Carolina still smelled like my sheets, her curls a wild halo as she leaned across the console of my truck to kiss me goodbye. Goose meowed from his carrier in the backseat like he was protesting being ignored, but for once, I didn’t mind the chaos. She lingered a second longer than usual, her lips brushing mine in a way that made me want to skip shift entirely. But eventually she pulled back, cheeks flushed, notebook already in her arms like it was glued there. “See you later, Ace,” she said, grinning that crooked grin that made me feel lighter than I had in weeks. I waited until Carolina made it up the steps, key in the door, the light in the stairwell flickering on as she disappeared inside. Goose let out a little meow from his carrier like he was saying goodbye. Or maybe like he wanted second breakfast. Same difference. I shifted the truck into gear. The passenger door clicked open. “What the—” Bia slid in like she owned the damn seat, p