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Itap my nails against my notepad when a familiar ringtone fills the room. At first I think it might be Carson, but he’s working now and doesn’t keep his phone on him. He had texted me earlier saying he had talked to Killian. They had resolved their argument. There is still an underlying hint of betrayal, but they’re working on their friendship.

“Hey Ash.” I haven’t spoken to him in a while, since he’s so busy with work, every time he calls me I’m busy, and when I call him, he is busy. “Hi Lex.” I hear some rustling on the other side of the line. The television plays on a romantic comedy I have seen a dozen times, but still don’t get tired of.

“You okay?” I ask. Ash sighs into the phone.

“Yeah, just tired. What about you? How is it going between you and the firefighter?”

I had told Ash about Carson the last time we had called, about how he was the guy who picked me up after I had car trouble, how he was my neighbor, and we had been hanging out a lot. I had also told him about my nightmare, and how Carson had comforted me. Ash and I have been friends for eight years now, so he has experienced a lot of my nightmares. He knows how difficult they can be for me.

“We’re fine.”

“Still just friends?” Apparently, the last time we talked, I kept talking about Carson.

“Yes.”

He snickers on the other line. Ash is my best friend who happens to be a guy, but if I had to compare the feelings I have for Ash and the feelings I have for Carson, they would be entirely different. Thinking about a physical relationship with Ash makes my stomach hurl, but thinking about a relationship with Carson where I can touch or kiss him gives me a whole different kind of feeling. And it’s not even the physical part that would be a plus, but spending more of my time together with him, waking up in the same bed, being near him makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.

I had woken up before him this morning. He had used me as his own personal pillow, lying in the same position as he fell asleep in, his head lying on my chest, legs intertwined with mine. It had taken me twenty minutes to free myself from his grip so that I wouldn’t wake him up.

I like him. I like cuddling with him. And that he lets me take care of him. I like that he called me baby yesterday. He was so worried when I fell, even though I’ve been through way worse. But I don’t know how to act further. What if he doesn’t feel the same?

“How do you know if someone likes you?”

Ash hums. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I’ve never been in a relationship before, remember?”

I did remember. Ash had an even more traumatic childhood than I had. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know that he doesn’t like to be touched. He won’t be in a relationship until someone respects his aversion to touch.

“But from what I have heard,” he starts. “He really cares about you, and I know you care about him. I think you should talk to him. If he doesn’t feel the same, well then at least you know…But I don’t think you need to worry about that. The things that guy does for you, will not many friends do. Other than me of course, but I definitely do not think about you that way.”

I chuckle, blowing my loose hair out of my face. “I definitely do not think about you like that either. It would be incest.”

“Exactly, so just talk to him about it. Communication is the most important part of any relationship.”

I know that Carson and I have communicated with each other just fine so far, but the thought of talking to him about our friendship makes me nervous. I don’t want to ruin what we have.

“I will,” I promise Ash.

“Good. Hey, listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, love you.”

Before I can tell him the same, the other side of the phone is already silent.

I feel like I’m in a movie right now. I’ve seen people do this multiple times on TV, walking in town with a plate of cookies in my hands, bringing them to the firehouse.

God, this is cliché.

But technically they’re for Carson, but since he’s a firefighter, the other guys at the firehouse will get cookies too. I was feeling bored after I ended my call with Ash, then remembered I had all the ingredients to make cookies. An old foster parent had taught me how to make them when I was younger, and I still remember the recipe.

It’s quiet on the streets, once every few minutes. A car will pass by, but all the children are already in bed. It’s not dark enough for the lamppost to turn on yet, but from the looks of it, it won’t be long. A chilly breeze blows through my summer jacket.

There are two fire trucks parked in the garage. A bright light illuminates through the transparent door. I didn’t think about the consequences of me showing up here. Is it even okay to bother them at work? I just wanted to bake cookies and share them with Carson. He’s working hard saving lives. I’m sure he would appreciate the hand-baked goods.

I reach the side door, my hand already raised to knock, when the door opens, an unfamiliar face greets me. The uniform he’s wearing tells me he’s one of Carson’s fellow firefighters.

“Hi,” I greet him, the plate of cookies still warm in my hands. The man’s eyes flick to the plate and then to me.