Pressure Point (Point #2) by Olivia Luck Read Free Book Online Page B

like old friends the whole train ride up north and now that we’re in the boisterous environment, it feels natural for us to link hands to avoid being separated in the mix. The bar’s loud with happy hour goers, young people around our age draining beers because it’s summer in Chicago. There’s no need for a reason to celebrate, other than the warm temperatures.
    “Yo! Stella!” I whip around at the sound of Max’s voice and tug my new friend to where my cousin sits at a highboy table in a quieter back corner. Seated around the table with my cousin is one of the best looking guys I’ve ever set eyes on in my life. Sort of looks like Channing Tatum with a more square jaw. Come to think of it, I’ve never met Channing Tatum in person (lame), but the guy sitting with Max is a mirror image, except for closely cut dirty blond hair.
    I prefer a man with a leaner build.
    Brushing that thought aside, I release Violet’s hand and reach out to hug Max.
    “Who’s this?” he asks, devouring my auburn-haired friend instantly. I glance back at her over my shoulder, only to find that she’s eying him with the same intensity. Whoa. The tension between them is palpable.
    “Meet my new work best friend, Violet.”
    “Pleasure,” my smooth cousin intones when he squeeze Violet’s hand in greeting. The bubbly girl nearly stutters before a confident smile slinks across her face as she introduces herself.
    The muscle man introduces himself as Felix, breaking the spell between Violet and Max.
    “Felix is a name you don’t hear often,” I comment.
    “Like the saint,” he explains with a wicked grin, indicating he’s anything but holy.
    “How do you two know each other?” Violet asks without preamble while we wait for a harried waitress to deliver our beers.
    “You know, he started following me around two weeks ago when I got placed at his station. Haven’t been able to shake him yet,” Felix tells us.
    Max arches a dark eyebrow. Though it’s subtle, Violet shivers next to me. If this girl isn’t smitten, I’m not one hundred percent Italian.
    “Rookie, who are you kidding? I was stuck showing him around. Newbie to Chicago.”
    “Really? Me, too. Where are you from?” Violet asks eagerly.
    Felix shrugs affably at Max and I admire his playfulness. New guy breaking into the firehouse frat isn’t an easy feat. “Bumble, Missouri. They don’t call it the Show Me State for nothing. I showed myself a way out of there. Big city dreams and all that. My town was too small for a firehouse or a gay firefighter.”
    The comment doesn’t faze anyone at the table, and I’m glad. Apparently Violet’s as accepting as our family raised Max and me to be, and that openness is a trait that I look for in a best friend.
    “Sounds like we came from the same town, but a different state. I’m Illinois born and bred but had to get the heck out of dodge as soon as I realized that I didn’t want to be a preacher’s wife.”
    “What kind of wife do you want to be?” Max fires back immediately.
    “An independent, she-does-it-all, loving wife, wonderful mother, and considerate friend,” Violet answers without hesitation.
    “Dang, do I need to call our brothers? It’s getting fuckin’ hot in here,” Felix declares.
    I can’t help the burst of laughter that explodes from my mouth. Violet turns to me, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I should not be hitting on your cousin when I’m trying to become your bestie.”
    I shrug, not bothered by the flirtation. My romantic dreams rear their head again. I’d be thrilled to see Max wind up with a nice girl. Maybe Violet’s it for him? The waitress arrives, shuttling four bottles of fresh beer on the table. I grip the bottle slick with condensation and lift it in toast. “To new friends.”
    “To new friends and big cities with lots of hot guys,” Felix adds on.
    “You’re perfect,” Violet tells him seriously.
    “I know,” Felix deadpans.
    We clink our bottles together.
    “What