Mitch got to him first, which meant that he was either magic or he’d flown down the stairs. “What the hell,” he said, running his hands over Aidan’s limbs.

Aidan shoved him away and sat up. “I’m fine.”

No one believed him, so he was forced to cool his heels and let the medic give him a once-over, which only made him all the more pissed off at himself. “If this went out wide on the radio—”

“Oh, it did,” Mitch said, looking amused, the bastard.

“Then text my mom before she calls the captain and gets me fired.”

“Already done,” Mitch said, and he held his phone up to take a pic of Aidan. “She insisted,” he said.

Aidan rolled his eyes.

Mitch was reading his texts. “Oh, and she says you’re an idiot to let Lily walk.” He looked up. “You let Lily walk?”

An hour later the house had been confirmed condemned and a structural engineer had been called in. Official cause of fire—malfunctioning furnace.

“Hey, that’s kinda like you,” Mitch said to Aidan. “Official cause of breakup with Lily—malfunctioning brain.”

By the time they got back to their station—with Aidan being mocked by his entire unit, both for his fall and for losing Lily—their shift was over.

In a hurry to get out of Dodge, Aidan showered quickly. Even more quickly when he saw the six-inch gash across his side. He slapped some gauze on it, called it good and left the station. In his truck, he pulled out his phone, which was loaded as usual. He flipped through the texts. The first two were from Gray. Tell Kenna hell no. And: Just trust me on this.

DELETE and DELETE.

Kenna had texted him as well: Thinking about going to Argentina to ski the rest of their season.

Aidan hit reply and typed: Sure.

He was no idiot. If he told his sister hell no, as Gray had suggested, his sister would be gone before anyone could blink. But if he agreed with her, she’d chill and hopefully move on to some other whim.

But just to be sure, he sent Gray a solution: Sneak into her room, find her passport, and put it in the safe.

Then there was Hud’s text: Heard what happened with Lily. You’re a fidiot. Do I need to spell that out for you? F-u-c-k-i-n-g I-d-i-o-t.

DELETE.

Aidan shifted, his side beginning to ache as he accessed the next text. It was a pic of two people kissing, a ridiculously close-up selfie, and he turned his head sideways trying to figure out what the hell he was seeing. When it clicked into place for him, he threw the phone to the passenger seat and stared at it like it was a coiled cobra.

It was his mom, making out with Marcus.