The Chief's Heat

The first time Tammy Cole walks into her station, Sydney Black forgets how to breathe. It is a quiet kind of forgetting. The chief does not show it. Nine years in command of the Harlow fire department has taught her how to keep her face still while her chest does whatever it wants to do. But Sydney has not looked at a woman this way in a very long time, and her body remembers what her mouth refuses to say.
Tammy is twenty-one years old, steady-handed, and infuriatingly composed. She holds Sydney's gaze across the bay like she has every right to. She crosses the floor of Sydney's station like she already lives there. She watches Sydney drink her coffee with eyes dark enough to drown in. Sydney is supposed to be her chief. Sydney is supposed to be untouchable. Sydney is supposed to be already over. But every shift Tammy works, the air between them gets thinner.
Every brief in the bay, every late call, every too-long look across the equipment room: they are circling something, and both of them know it. One night, in a station gone quiet, the line is going to break. And neither of them is going to want to fix it.