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Chapter 9 - Zach
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2025-06-26 18:00:00Walking back into the station felt weird. Not bad—just off. Like I’d stepped back into a version of my life that no longer fit the same way it had forty-eight hours ago. The overhead fluorescents buzzed faintly above me as I made my way past the gear lockers and toward the main office, the weight of sleep deprivation starting to settle behind my eyes.
I hadn’t gone home yet. My jeans felt stiff from yesterday, my hoodie smelled faintly like cat fur and cheap hotel soap, and I was 99% sure there was some stray litter stuck to my left boot. I’d meant to grab a change of clothes before heading in, but I was more focused on talking to my Captain about time off than going home to wash up and change clothes.
Captain Reyes looked up as I knocked once and pushed open her office door. She was halfway through a protein bar and typing with the intensity of someone trying to beat the clock.
“Dayton,” she said, then squinted. “You smell like a vet clinic.”
“Hotel room
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The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 19 - Zach
The morning started quietly. Suspiciously quiet.After Ofelia rushed out for work, leaving behind a flurry of textbooks, coffee remnants, and faint traces of that floral shampoo I was trying way too hard not to think about, I figured kitten duty would be a breeze. Feed the queen, keep the towel nest clean, snap a few pictures to update Ofelia, maybe nap on the other bed.Easy.Except nothing with Spitfire was ever easy.She watched me like a strict supervisor, those amber eyes narrowed, her tortie expression stuck somewhere between “you’re barely qualified for this” and “don’t screw it up, human.” The kittens, meanwhile, were living their best chaotic lives.Mochi had claimed my hoodie strings as her personal jungle gym, latching on with her tiny murder mittens and glaring like she could take me in a fight. Which, considering she weighed about as much as a sandwich, was impressive confidence.Zach: Mochi says my hoodie strings are now hers. Attached: The tiniest, angriest black kitte
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 18 - Ofelia
Sleep didn’t come easily.It never really did anymore, not with the stress of the fire, the kittens yowling at all hours, and the lingering scent of smoke that seemed permanently etched into my sinuses. But last night? That was a different level of restless.Somewhere between exhaustion and frustration, my brain decided to betray me.I dreamed of Zach.Not the panicked, smoke-choked memory of him hauling me out of my apartment, or the awkward near-kiss by the kittens’ nesting box, but a dream version of him. Warm. Steady. Hands lingering on my waist as he laughed in that easy, low voice of his. We were… God, we were having dinner at his place, his real place, similar to the apartment I’d toured, with its high ceilings and soft lighting. It started innocently enough, small talk, good food, playful banter.Then it shifted.One second, I was finishing my drink, the next, Zach was pulling me gently onto his lap, his hands sliding along my thighs as his lips ghosted over mine. The heat in
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 17 - Zach
I told myself that showing Ofelia the apartment in my building was logical. Practical. The kind of problem-solving solution I’ve always been good at. She needed a place to stay—one that didn’t smell like stale carpet and frustration. It wasn’t my fault that the place happened to be next door to mine. But as we walked side by side down the block, her freshly signed lease tucked into the folder she hugged to her chest, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t have selfish reasons tangled in there, too. It wasn’t just about her safety, or Spitfire and the kittens. I liked knowing she’d be close. Maybe too much. “Are you sure you’re not secretly in real estate?” Ofelia asked, nudging my elbow with hers as we crossed toward the corner café. Her voice was light, teasing, but I caught the nervous undercurrent hiding beneath it. “Firefighter by day, apartment scout by necessity,” I shot back, holding the door for her as we stepped inside. The place was small—brick walls, chipped tile floors, handwr
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 16 - Ofelia
I took the fastest shower of my life, but not before grabbing fresh clothes from my small stack of salvaged options and ducking into the cramped hotel bathroom like the room itself might judge me for what I was about to do. Okay, I wasn’t about to do anything scandalous. But I was about to stress-change clothes for apartment hunting… and possibly, maybe, hypothetically… catch Zach’s attention. Not that I was admitting that part to myself. The bathroom mirror was streaked, the hotel towels scratchy, and my reflection decidedly frazzled as I towel-dried my curls and tried to make myself look like a woman who had her life together. I didn’t, obviously. My life had been a barely functional pile of chaos ever since my apartment went up in literal smoke, but that didn’t mean I had to look like a disaster. Unfortunately, my wardrobe options were… limited. Most of my nicer outfits hadn’t survived the fire, and what I’d bought after was purely functional: a few basic tops, jeans, leggings,
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 15 - Zach
The flickering glow of the candles danced across Ofelia’s face, softening her already soft edges, highlighting the faint flush in her cheeks as she laughed at something I barely heard. We were at my apartment. Her plate sat empty on the table between us, the remnants of takeout scattered like we’d devoured it without thinking. The cheap little bodega bouquet I’d picked up sat in a glass jar by the window, the flowers were crooked, but she hadn’t stopped smiling since she walked in. God, she was radiant when she smiled like that. Her curls were loose around her shoulders, eyes bright, biting her lip when our gazes held a little too long. The world outside my windows barely existed. Just her and me, a tiny apartment that smelled like dinner, and the dangerous tension pulsing between us. I reached for her hand across the table. Her fingers slid easily into mine, warm, familiar in a way they had no right to be. “You’re staring,” she teased softly. “Can’t help it.” I squeezed her han
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 14 - Ofelia
Sleep wasn’t happening. I’d been lying here for the better part of an hour, staring at the water-stained ceiling of this glorified shoebox, running through every breathing exercise I’d ever learned in a textbook and still, no luck. My pulse was too wired. My thoughts wouldn’t shut up. Mostly, it was because of him. Across the room, in the other bed, Zach lay sprawled out on his back, one arm crooked behind his head, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. His stupid, infuriatingly solid chest. Which, unfortunately, I’d caught a glimpse of earlier… dripping wet… courtesy of my own mortifying timing. I groaned under my breath and rolled to my side, glaring at the clock glowing from the bedside table—12:47 a.m. Brilliant. At least the room was quiet now. The kittens were asleep in their box, Spitfire curled around them like a furry, calico barrier to the world. Her tail twitched every so often as if she were standing guard even in sleep. Meanwhile, I was battling the swirlin
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