I saw a video of firefighters training online and couldn't resist dropping a thirsty comment. "Nice waist, bro. I'd ride that." The guy replied instantly: "? Don't let me catch you." Karma works fast. The next night, I rolled over in my sleep and somehow got completely wedged in the gap between my mattress and the wall, unable to escape. When the fire department broke down my door, my phone was still stuck on the comment section of his video. Our eyes met. The guy from the video was standing over me, holding a reciprocating saw, giving me a half-smile. "Wow, it’s you. Don't remember me? You're the one who ripped my underwear off while saving a cat." Me: I am so dead! New grudges piled on top of old ones! 01 Stuck in the narrow gap between the bed and the wall, I tried to suck in my stomach and regulate my final, desperate breaths. The violent sound of my door being battered down echoed from outside, accompanied by the TikTok audio of a trending beat-drop song looping for the 800th time from my phone lying next to me. After what felt like an eternity, right as I was about to suffocate, I finally heard the sound of the deadbolt being popped. The door swung open, and a blast of freezing wind swept in. Along with the wind came several young, incredibly attractive firefighters. "I'm here... I'm down here..." A pathetic, weak voice squeaked from the gap like a dying kitten. The firefighters reacted quickly and tried to pull the bed away from the wall. I immediately let out a blood-curdling scream. "Whoa, relax! Don't panic, we'll get you out right now," a firefighter reassured me patiently, while giving the bed a forceful heave. My vision went black, and I squealed like a slaughtered pig. By the time I recovered from the shock, I had been dragged out of the gap. The firefighters peeled back the six layers of blankets I was wrapped in, finally getting a clear look at my calf, which was still wedged tightly into the bed frame. It was covered in dried blood and swollen to twice its normal size. "Captain, the victim's leg is trapped in the frame. We need tools to cut it." Just as the firefighter spoke, the looping TikTok audio suddenly stopped. The man standing at the very back of the group had picked up my phone. With an icy, expressionless face, he crouched down by my feet to inspect the injury. I stared at his sharp, chiseled jawline and the name embroidered on his chest patch, instinctively gulping. Ethan Cole. God, he's hot! "It's wedged too tight. Go down to the truck and grab the reciprocating saw." I closed my eyes in absolute agony. Great. Now I have to pay for a broken front door and a new bed. My poor bank account... Ethan, crouching beside me, seemed to sense my inner turmoil. He turned his head and patted my shoulder. "It's okay. Just try to relax." Looking at his devastatingly handsome face, a sudden realization clicked in my brain. He looks really familiar. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before... The saw arrived quickly. Someone plugged it in, and the loud, buzzing roar of the motor filled the room. Ethan stood up, took off his heavy turnout coat, and grabbed the saw. I looked up at his olive-green t-shirt clinging tightly to his sculpted abs, and the veins popping on his forearms. My brain instantly short-circuited. Wait. Isn't this the exact same guy doing pushups in the viral video I was just drooling over?! Which means... when he was holding my phone a minute ago... he definitely saw my comment. I got caught red-handed. My brain spun frantically, trying to figure out how to explain that I was just a keyboard warrior who was all talk and no action. But Ethan was already approaching me, holding the saw, a dark half-smile playing on his lips. "Hold still. I'm very fast." My face drained of all color, my eyes darting around in panic. The next second, his deep, deliberately lowered voice reached my ears. "Well, well. Don't remember me? You're the one who ripped my underwear off while saving a cat." My confused expression instantly shattered. My temples throbbed so hard I thought my head was going to explode. I am so dead! New grudges piled on top of old ones! Watching Ethan lower the spinning saw toward me, I burst into terrified tears and screamed in sheer panic: "I'M SORRY! I WAS WRONG! I'M SO SORRY, HUBBY..." 02 That single "Hubby" completely obliterated whatever dignity I had left. Under the shocked and highly amused stares of the entire fire squad... I was tossed over Ethan's shoulder, my face burning brighter than a tomato, and carried out to the ambulance. Yes, carried like a sack of potatoes. To maintain professional boundaries, my 100-pound self didn't get a romantic bridal carry. I got the "hauling a dead boar out of the woods" carry. At the hospital, my best friend finally arrived. She stared at my calf, which was currently swollen to the size of a tree trunk, and slapped her thigh, honking with laughter. "Chloe, you are incredible. You literally made the local news." My brain was still buzzing, and my leg was throbbing in agony. I quickly pulled out my phone. "SHOCKING!!! Woman wrapped in six blankets gets stuck in bed frame, nearly assassinated by her own bedding!" "Girl stuck in bed carried into hospital by firefighter, weight currently incalculable!" Me: [Angry embarrassment.jpg] When my best friend wheeled me out of the hospital, she relentlessly interrogated me about how I managed to rip a firefighter's underwear off. To avoid being dumped on the freezing street, I gritted my teeth and recounted the most humiliating moment of my life. It happened three months ago, late at night. I was walking home from working overtime when I heard meowing coming from the bushes by the sidewalk. After searching, I found a tiny calico kitten stuck high up in a tree, too terrified to climb down. The kitten looked like it had barely been weaned, shivering violently in the branches. My heart broke, and I decided to save it. But I couldn't find anything to climb on. Right at that moment, Ethan happened to run past on his nightly jog. So, I aggressively recruited him for a rescue mission I would never forget for the rest of my life. The kitten, terrified by our commotion below, kept crying and climbing higher. Ethan didn't hesitate. He tied his shoelaces tight and started climbing the tree. The tree was incredibly thin. Ethan swayed precariously as he climbed, looking like he was going to fall at any second. I stood at the base, grabbing his calves to help stabilize him. Just as he was inches away from grabbing the kitten... the branch he was standing on snapped under his weight. Ethan panicked, trying to jump down safely. Blind panic took over me, and I reached my hands up, desperately trying to catch him. In a split-second flash of absolute chaos... my hands accidentally grabbed onto his upper thigh... and I violently ripped the side of his tight athletic shorts wide open. With the loud RIIIIIIP of tearing fabric, Ethan scrambled to adjust his footing and somehow managed to wrap his arms around the trunk, hanging on for dear life. The kitten, however, was launched from the shaking tree, landed safely in the bushes a few yards away, and bolted into the night. Just as this happened, a city bus slowly pulled up to the stop right next to us. Illuminated perfectly by the bus headlights... was Ethan, clinging to a tree, wearing shredded athletic shorts that fully exposed a pair of bright crimson, Year of the Dragon novelty boxers. The golden dragon embroidered on his crotch literally sparkled under the headlights, gleaming in all its majestic glory. The sheer, apocalyptic embarrassment was too much. I instantly hit the deck and combat-crawled straight into the bushes to hide. Leaving Ethan and his golden dragon crotch to make awkward, agonizing eye contact with the men, women, and children staring out the windows of the passing bus... "Are... are you okay?" After the bus drove away, I poked my head out of the bushes, cautiously asking Ethan, who had just dropped down from the tree. His face was pitch black. One hand was covering his ass, and the other was clenched into a tight, trembling fist. "What do you think?" I was absolutely terrified. I took three huge steps back, took off my jacket, and handed it to him. "It's fine! Everything's fine! At least we saved the cat, right? The cat..." The cat was long gone. I was crying internally. Please don't punch me! Thankfully, Ethan just looked pissed. He snatched my jacket and tied it tightly around his waist. But the violent yank of the fabric caused the torn piece of his athletic shorts—which I had unknowingly stuffed into my jacket pocket—to fall out and land directly at his feet. Oh my god! What sin did I commit in my past life to deserve this?! My hands were shaking violently as I pulled out my phone and opened my Venmo QR code. "Sir, I'll pay you for the shorts. Please, just add me." Ding... The second he accepted the request, I turned and sprinted away faster than Usain Bolt. 03 Sitting on the curb, my best friend ignored the strange looks from passersby, slapping my head and laughing until she couldn't breathe. For a very long time after that, it became her favorite piece of ammunition to mock me. Recovering from my leg injury at home was agonizingly boring. I saw the viral video of Ethan carrying me into the hospital being turned into meme edits all over Twitter. I decided it was time to exact my revenge. I was going to harass Ethan late at night. "You asleep yet, babe?" He replied instantly: "? Are you paying me back?" The smug smile vanished from my face. My brain was instantly flooded with the image of his golden dragon boxers and his incredibly firm, sculpted thighs. I hesitated for a few seconds, then Venmoed him $52.00. He accepted the payment instantly. Me: ??? FUCK!!! People really shouldn't stay up late. I tried to troll him, and ended up losing money instead. So unlucky. But looking at the algorithm pushing more videos of his abs onto my feed... I decided I wasn't going to let that money go to waste. My official goal for this year: Touch Ethan's abs! To achieve this goal, as soon as my leg healed, I bought several massive orders of boba tea and delivered them to the fire station. My excuse? Showing my deep gratitude to Ethan for saving my life. The atmosphere at the station was great. A bunch of young, grinning firefighters grabbed the drinks and immediately scattered, giving us space. In the middle of the massive training yard, it was just me and Ethan, staring at each other. I handed him the last cup of boba. "Here. This one's yours. I secretly told them to add extra boba." Ethan hesitated for a few seconds before finally taking the cup. "Thanks." His lips parted slightly. The olive-green t-shirt he was wearing was soaked with sweat from training, clinging tightly to the sharp outline of his abs. My mouth moved faster than my brain, and I blurted out: "If you really want to thank me, let me feel your abs." The moment the words left my mouth, Ethan's cold, aloof expression shattered, replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock. I pressed my lips together, my face burning hot. Okay, maybe that was a little too direct. But since the elephant in the room was already tap-dancing, I decided to just go all in. "Ethan, I already asked around. You don't have a girlfriend. Can I pursue you?" The guy standing across from me was clearly still buffering from the shock of my first sentence and definitely didn't process the second one. I didn't give him time to react. I kept going. "Not gonna answer? Then I'll take that as a yes, boyfriend." And just like that, based entirely on my own unilateral assumption, Ethan was officially my boyfriend. By the time I left the station, several of the younger firefighters were already calling me "Sister-in-law." I didn't hold back either. I answered them brightly and enthusiastically. "Bye, Sister-in-law! Come back soon!" I nodded, turned to Ethan, and smiled. "I'm heading out! Bye, hubby." Ethan had been standing there with a dark expression for five minutes, opening his mouth several times to say something. But that final "hubby" completely short-circuited his brain, leaving him speechless. 04 For the next few weeks, I lived a life of aggressively, unilaterally dating Ethan. To win him over and speedrun my way to touching those abs, I started posting on Reddit asking for advice. Finally, a highly-rated comment gave me a revelation: "These guys who act like tough, stoic walls of iron usually have a super flamboyant inner self. Otherwise, why would he be wearing bright red novelty boxers?" "Trust me, girl. Be direct. If he's secretly wild, you have to be overtly wild. If that doesn't work, just sexually harass him! Go get 'em!!!" Armed with this divine knowledge, I began my practical application. "Good morning, babe. I didn't sleep at all last night, because I spent the whole night thinking about you in my dreams..." "Baby, the wind is so strong today. It's almost as strong as my desperate need for you!" "I can't sleep. My bed feels so cold. It feels like something's missing... Oh, right. It's missing you." After a full week of aggressively sending him thirsty texts, Ethan only replied to me exactly two times. "Morning." "If you're cold, turn on the heater..." I mentally cursed that Reddit user 800 times. After agonizing over my failure, I came to a painful conclusion. Texting creates too much distance. I needed to show up in person and force my existence onto his radar. So, when I found out the city was hosting a firefighter skills competition and livestreaming it, I woke up earlier than I ever had in my life. When I arrived at the training facility, it was already packed with a massive crowd. Official drones buzzed overhead, filming the event. I tied my hair up tight and aggressively elbowed my way to the very front of the crowd. When the whistle blew, my eyes locked onto Ethan's figure. Watching him hurdle over obstacles, low-crawl through the dirt, and drag massive tires over towering walls... I let out a feral, groundhog-like scream. Hot! He is so fucking hot! When the competition ended, the livestream host announced they would pick one random audience member to interact with the first-place winner. Standing in the front row, I frantically blew kisses and shot heart hands at Ethan, completely shameless. My unhinged behavior successfully caught the host's attention, and I was gloriously selected as the lucky winner. On the live broadcast, the host asked me what I wanted to say to the champion. I grabbed the mic and walked right up to Ethan. His clothes were soaked in sweat, his chest heaving as he chugged a bottle of water. Staring at his bobbing Adam's apple and his incredibly sexy collarbones, I made my bold request. "I want to see you do pushups. 100 of them." "Also... can I sit on your back?" The crowd erupted in cheers. I tilted my head up, raised an eyebrow at Ethan, and flashed a triumphant, wicked smile. His face darkened. He silently put down his water bottle, dropped to the ground, and assumed a flawless pushup position. His flexed muscles showcased perfect, fluid lines, and the veins popped on his arms, radiating pure masculine energy. A group of girls in the crowd gasped. He looked up at me, his voice slightly strained through gritted teeth. "Sit!" The late afternoon sun hit his back, bathing him in a golden glow. A single drop of sweat dripped from his bangs, catching the light perfectly. The sight struck my heart, sending ripples through me. I happily kicked off my shoes, grinning like an idiot as I climbed onto his back. As he moved up and down, I almost slipped, so I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. The very next second, his entire body went rigid. I secretly smiled, leaning close to his ear, and whispered. "Keep going, hubby. You got this." Underneath me, doing incredibly stiff pushups, Ethan's ears turned a violent shade of crimson. Hehehe. I definitely got a feast today. One step closer to my ultimate goal! 05 After the livestream ended, I relentlessly harassed Ethan until he agreed to walk me home. As we walked past a row of street food stalls, the smell of barbecue was overwhelmingly intoxicating. I was literally drooling. Ten minutes later, there was a case of beer and three plates of grilled meat on our table. "When exactly are you planning to go home?" Ethan sat across from me, gripping a grilled sausage, his brows furrowed deeply. I aggressively gnawed on a grilled chicken wing, my voice muffled. "When I finish eating. Once you finish eating with me, I'll go home." Swallowing the chicken, I popped open another beer for Ethan. A few beers later, I was violently throwing up. Next to a trash can by the sidewalk, I stared at Ethan—who currently had three blurry clones overlapping him—and stumbled directly into his chest. "You smell so good!" Ethan completely froze in place, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air, having no idea what to do. "You're drunk. Let me take you home." I shook my head, aggressively rubbing my face against his chest. It was rock hard, and my nose actually hurt. "No. No way. You're so mean to me. So cold and ruthless." A heavy sigh came from above me. It sounded faint, but I could feel Ethan trying to push me away. I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist like a vice, hanging my entire body weight onto him. "Don't move. You are not allowed to push me away." "I like you so much. Can't you just like me back, even a little bit?" I heard the sound of Ethan swallowing hard. A heavy, ragged breath blew down my collar, brushing against the back of my neck. It sent a tingling, electric shock down my spine. I tilted my head up, staring hazily at his devastatingly handsome face, and asked, word by word: "Ethan, do you like me even a tiny little bit?" The only answer I got was the sound of the wind. Then, Ethan hoisted me up with one arm and pulled me tightly into his chest... I never got an answer to my question. But the text messages from Ethan started becoming a lot more frequent. I just kept casually harassing him. I'd randomly show up at the station to drop off boba, then force him to walk me home. Half a month later, while walking me home, Ethan received an emergency dispatch page. Watching him sprint back toward the station in a panic, my right eyelid started twitching violently. Soon after, fire trucks roared past me, their sirens echoing through the streets. A news alert popped up on my phone: "Gas explosion at Sunset Apartments in the historic district triggers massive fire... Casualties unknown!" The second I saw the notification, I dropped my half-empty boba cup on the pavement. I unlocked a rental bike and pedaled like a maniac. My parents lived in Sunset Apartments!
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