Text bubbles appear on Erin's side of our chat three times before I switch my screen off.

"Fuck," I curse to myself as I drag my palm across my face. I don't know why I am so anxious to hear back from her. I've never been nervous to text a girl. Well, I shouldn't call her a girl, she is a beautiful woman who is definitely out of my league.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about her smile since the start of shift. Hell, I haven't been able to stop thinking about all of her my entire shift. There's just something about Erin that has made my focus shift to a completely different angle, and I haven't been able to defer if that is a good or bad thing.

I swivel in my bunk and rest my arms on my thighs, exhaling deeply. So much for being focused on my job. It's not as if I was distracted the entire time, but seeing Erin on that call caught me off guard. She is the last person I thought I would see in that situation. I'm not saying I wasn't happy to see her, heck; I was ecstatic. But that wasn't the way I wanted our next meeting to go. I wanted to sweep her off her feet, or at least try to.

Ding!

Holy shit.

Before I can register what I am doing, I'm holding my phone between my fingers, staring at the small messages.

"Hey! :)

How's your night going?"

What do I say? 'Oh, you know, just out here saving lives.' No. That's way too cocky. I don't want to be that guy. I'm not that guy. I have enough self-respect to treat women the way they deserve to be – like goddesses.

"Pretty quiet, actually. We haven't been out on a call for a bit.

Although, I did just save myself from a ping pong tourney, which is just a disaster waiting to happen."

I watch her text bubbles appear and disappear again as my heart pounds rapidly against my ribcage. I'm not lying; the guys are downstairs in the rec room playing an embarrassingly competitive game of ping pong. It's how we keep ourselves sane around here between calls, especially since Ed – or as we like to call him, "the-old-man," – has the TV remote cemented to his hand.

The light vibration in my palm pulls my attention back to our conversation.

"Sounds competitive.

I'm surprised that a busy man like you has the time to text me.

Not that I'm disappointed, though."

I smirk to myself. How can she manage to be cute over text, too? I can picture her chewing on her lip like she was in the coffee shop earlier today, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sure it's the other way around. My job eats away at most of my time.

How's your night going? Big plans?"

"No, not really.

Unless you count a box of pizza as a hot date."

Her words make me shift my position in my bunk. The image of her eating pizza crosses my mind. God, how I wish I were eating pizza with her instead of moping around here like a sad puppy.

"Well, it is hot."

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. Why the hell did I say that? That joke was lame as hell. There's no way she'll think it's funny.

"Ha! You're funny.

"I like funny

:)"

"Then buckle up, lady..." I delete the words faster than I typed them. Why the hell would I say that? That's not me. My fingers hover over the screen as I figure out what to send.

":)

So, is pizza really your hot date for tonight?"

"Yes, actually.

It's pathetic."

"It's not, actually. I would much rather be at home relaxing instead of tensely waiting for another call from dispatch."

I'm giving Erin complete honesty here, which is odd for me. I'm never usually this open with people I've just met. It normally takes me a while before I can open up to someone. But, then again, something about Erin is different.

"Matt!" Trev's voice booms into the bunkroom. I shift my gaze from my phone to his figure in the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"

I don't move for a moment, as if I've just been doing something I'm not supposed to. "Nothing," I say, standing from my bunk and shoving my phone into my pants pocket. "What's up?"

"You're texting that girl from the accident site, aren't you?" Trev asks, entering the room.

I glare at him. Trev can read me like I'm an open book, which I'm not. I've known the guy since high school, and we went to the academy together. He probably knows me better than I know myself, which is slightly worrisome. I hate to admit it, but this fucker is basically my best friend. "So, what if I am?"

"Makin' some plans?"

The way he rubs his hands together and presses his small lips into a tight line puts me on edge. I hate the way he talks about women. It's definitely the reason why he's still single. "Uh," I mumble, not wanting to confirm his suspicion.

"Dude! Get on that before I do!" Trev chirps.

His words cause my throat to burn in anger. I'm not sure why his comments toward Erin are setting me off so quickly. I barely know the woman, yet, I'd probably go to any length to protect her or her image. "What the hell are you talking about, Trev?" I fake-laugh, trying to pull him away from the subject. "How's the tourney going? Did Cordero kick your ass again?" I ask as I approach him.

"Pfft, no!" he scoffs, "he most certainly did not."

I roll my eyes at his disgusted reaction as we enter into the hallway. I can hear the rest of the squad in the common area shouting at each other, which only means one of two things. Either, ping pong has taken a turn for the worst, or "the-old-man" switched the channel to TSN.

"Looks like Cora is making her rounds again," Trev notes as we walk into the lounge.

Cora is fawning herself at probee, the poor soul. I thought we had warned him in the rig about her forward personality, but I guess the message didn't stick.

"Probee!" I call into the room.

Jenkyns comes to attention, straightening his back in his chair as he turns to face me. I tilt my head at him, signaling him to accompany me. He follows without hesitation.

"I thought we warned you about Smith; she's very...handsy," I say after we've left the crowded area. "We don't need you being distracted with...that."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"How was the call for you? How do you feel about it?

"If I'm honest, sir, I had no idea what I was doing."

"I noticed. It's okay; no one is perfect at the start. The academy doesn't prepare you for all real-life situations."

Jenkyns looks at me sympathetically. "Thank you, sir. If there is ever anything I can improve on, please, let me know."

Good kid. "I will don't worry. And don't let the guys give you a hard time. They all started where you are now."

"Thanks for the advice...sir," he adds after a moment.

"You don't have to call me sir," I half-laugh, "you can call me Matt."

"Okay, sir, – Matt! Sorry," he says, correcting himself.

This time I bark out an actual laugh. "It's alright, probee. Now, go kick Trev's ass at ping pong."