Chapter Five Lila
Ican go back out there, smile for the cameras, and pretend this never happened.
I pull out my phone. We’ve been posting fresh content every day, including what I managed to catch during my first night in the firehouse, but today we posted the teaser for what we’re doing tonight. I’m desperate to know if people are actually excited to see it all.
Only, when I unlock my screen, I see I already have a text from Lou, sent ten minutes ago. I haven’t seen her in a while, but she’s already one step ahead of me.
U might not want to read those comments yet, she’s written.
Which obviously means that I immediately open TikTok and pull up the official Save A Hero teaser video.
At first, I don’t know what she could possibly be talking about. A lot of the comments are nice. Someone has even said, firefighters really are the unsung heroes of public service, it’s great that people finally get to see how hard they work…
Unfortunately, someone then replied to that comment with, the only reason we’re seeing it is because they’re trying to distract us from the fact that half of 47’s crew are incompetent himbos wasting taxpayer money.
“Well, that’s not fair,” I mutter to myself in the general privacy of my toilet stall. “Noah isn’t a himbo.”
He’s hot, yes, but I haven’t seen any evidence so far that he’s actually stupid.
I scroll a little bit further, and then come across one comment in particular that snares my attention.
What a cringe PR stunt. It figures they’d hire the cheapest people in the biz. This is going to be a shit show.
The username is bpela94. Which is ambiguous enough, I guess, except that I only know one guy who would specifically come for my throat instead of Station 47’s, and who would use a phrase as ridiculous as “the biz” to do it.
Barry Pelavin. It has to be him.
He’s been a pain in my ass for almost five years now, ever since he lost that entrepreneurial grant and had to fall back on his daddy’s money to open his own PR firm.
Over the years, he’s poached several of our clients, blatantly copied a handful of our marketing materials, and generally made it even more difficult than it already is to make it in this city.
Which is crazy, honestly, because his father is some kind of advertising executive who basically pisses cash. Unlike me, Barry has a wealth of resources at his fingertips, and yet he still chooses to come after me.
Lou thinks it’s classic misogyny. I think that’s likely, but it’s probably also true that Barry has a few screws loose inside that rich boy head of his. Like, if you shook his skull, it might actually rattle.
“Whatever,” I say out loud. “He’s a dickwad and he’s not important.”
“So true, queen,” someone murmurs from the stall next to mine.
I march out of the restroom, my phone shoved back into my purse, to find Hale waiting for me in the hall. He’s leaning against the wall casually, his hands in his pockets, gazing off at some unknown point.
When he hears my heals clicking toward him, he turns.
“What’s wrong?” comes his immediate question.
I let out a long exhale and square my shoulders. “Absolutely nothing at all, Captain.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me, but he lets it drop and holds out his arm for me. “Shall we go dance, then?”
“What?”
“That’s what you mentioned earlier, right? ‘The public will totally adore you if they see you executing a flawless waltz.’”
“Wow, you remembered what I said verbatim.”
“It wasn’t a particularly complex thing to commit to memory.”
“You’re a real charmer, Cap. But, yes, let’s go dance.”
***
As it turns out, Hale is a great dancer. His motions are smooth and controlled, as well as incredibly precise. I barely even have to think as he guides me through a simple three-beat rhythm, letting us get swept away in the current of other dancing couples.
His hand on my waist is large but light, and in the other hand he holds mine with a surprisingly gentleness. I wouldn’t think that someone with muscles like his could be so dainty—in a totally masculine way, for sure—but I suppose Hale contains multitudes.
“Where did you learn to dance?” I ask as the music swells.
“YouTube.”
“Wait, really?”
“When I first attended this gala, I knew it would be an important skill to have.”
“How practical.” Then, because I’m too nosy for my own good, I add, “Who was your date to that first gala?”
Hale purses his lips at me for a moment, not amused by the prying. I bat my eyelashes at him mockingly, and maybe it’s just my imagination, or it’s possible that his lips are curving ever so slightly again.
“I brought my cousin, Rebecca.”
“Really? Your cousin?”
“She was going through a hard time and my aunt thought it might be helpful for her to get out of the house.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
He merely shrugs and guides me through an artful spin around another couple.
“What about the year after that?” I press. “Who was your date then?”
“Rita.”
“The EMT with the blue hair?”
“It was purple that year, actually.”
“Isn’t she, like, in her forties?”
“Are you being ageist, Lila Hart?”
I roll my eyes up at him, trying not to notice the way his hand gently squeezes my waist.
“So, that’s your type? Older women?”
This time, he rolls his eyes. “Rita is not my type. She was new to the crew that year and mentioned she wanted to go, so I invited her.”
“But have you ever brought a date date to the gala?”
“Why would I? It’s not particularly romantic, is it?”
In spite of our proximity at the moment, he has a point. “So… you’re a big romance guy, huh?”
At this, Hale snorts loudly. And, a moment later, the song ends.
“Come on,” he sighs, guiding me off the dance floor. “Your camera crew got the shot, I’m sure, so we can be done now.”
“But, why won’t you at least tell me—oop!”
I’m so fixated on pestering this brooding beast about his love life that I don’t notice the puddle of spilled champagne, or the guest trying to warn me about it, until it’s too late.
The smooth sole of my heel fails to gain traction as soon as I splash into the mess, and then it’s slipping out from under me.
I flail for purchase, but I already know I’m going down.
Except, a heartbeat later, there’s a strong arm wrapping around my waist, catching me mid-fall. Several onlookers gasp in admiration as Hale holds me there like he’s performing a dramatic dip, but all I can think about is the way it feels to be cradled in his embrace.
That, and the fact that his face is coincidentally now only inches away from mine.
Kind of like how it was in that dream. Right before he leaned in and I tilted my neck to silently beg for a kiss.
It’s dumb, really, the way I feel so suddenly suspended in this moment in time.
We’re frozen for several long seconds, staring at each other with wide eyes, so close that I can feel the tickle of his breath against my cheek.
My pulse skyrockets, and I don’t have the willpower to resist glancing down at his lips.
He’s just so…
“That was close,” he whispers, then hauls me back up onto my own two feet. “Are you okay?”
I glance down where the hem of my dress is damp with champagne, but it’s not the end of the world. What the rental service doesn’t know won’t hurt them.
When I look back up at him, there’s an odd twinkle in his eye. Did he notice the way I zeroed in on his lips? Am I total freak for that?
“Lila?” He furrows his brow at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yep! Totally normal.”
“Okay… how about we go get some air while we wait for your lemmings to finish collecting B-roll?”
A ridiculous giggle bubbles out of me. “Look at you using the jargon!”
At that, I’m sure I see the ghost of a real smile, but he turns away and gestures for me to follow him through an archway and down a carpeted hall.
We end up slipping out of a pair of French doors onto a small, forgotten patio that sort of melts into a grimy alleyway on one side. Not exactly the prettiest place to catch my breath after swooning like that, but it’ll do.
I lean against the side of the brick building and lift the hem of my dress to wiggle my ankle. It’s a little sore, but there’s no way I actually injured it.
“Do you need a first responder, ma’am?”
A soft gasp slips out of me at the unexpected purr in Hale’s tone. I drop my foot and stare up at him.
And then, fucking hell, it’s exactly like my dream, because now he’s prowling toward me with that same dark-eyed intent that I brewed up in the most ridiculous corner of my imagination.
Only this is reality.
“I’m fine.” The words come out all breathy, and it has nothing to do with how tight this dress is.
Hale pauses a foot away from me. “Are you sure? Those heels are very high. You’re basically asking for a sprained ankle by wearing them.”
“Yes, but they look good.” For some idiotic reason, I feel the need to drive this point home by lifting my hem again, accidentally showing a flash of thigh in the process. What is wrong with me? Have I turned into a can-can dancer?
“They do look nice on you,” he agrees.
When I peer at his face, his eyes are on my mouth. A half-second later, they drop down to my chest, then drag up to my neck. Back down to my chest. All the way up to my mouth again.
Finally, he meets my gaze.
“Uh,” I say, rather eloquently.
“Thank you for coming tonight, Lila.” He pauses for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “It’s clear that you care a lot about your job.”
“Likewise.”
“So, we have something in common.”
“We have plenty in common,” I find myself arguing lightly.
He tilts his head to the side. “Do we?”
“Like punctuality.”
“That’s true.”
“And we both have really great butts.”
I want to smack my head against the brick behind me as soon as the words slip out, but Hale surprises me by actually laughing.
He stops almost as soon as he starts, as if it’s such an unfamiliar thing to him that he startled himself out of it, but I feel a rush of victory nonetheless.
I grin at him. “Finally. I made you smile.”
Something shifts in his eyes. A strange darkening, and an odd sort of wide-eyed frankness that catches me off guard.
“You’re ridiculous,” he whispers.
My grin only widens. He makes a strangled sound, and then he’s reaching for me.
His mouth crashes against mine, and I don’t even hesitate to answer in kind. I throw my arms around his neck and curve into his body, moaning when his hands glide around my hips and slip lower to cup my allegedly great butt.
I gasp at the delicious force behind that touch, so unlike the gentleness he showed me during our dance, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
His tongue slides against mine, causing heat to blaze across my skin.
I feel like I’ve accidentally touched a live wire, simultaneously overwhelmed and craving more.
He presses me back into the brick, and my mind is already racing several steps ahead. To the part where he lifts me off the ground and I wrap my arms around his waist. To the part where he pushes aside the flimsy fabric of my underwear and takes me right here against the wall.
We could do it like that, fast and dirty. I want to do it, even though I don’t exactly make a habit out of hooking up with men I barely know.
But then a distant voice floats toward us.
Lou.
“Lila? Did I see you come down this way?”
A curse slips out of Hale, so sharp that I can taste it like ice on my tongue, and then he’s stumbling away from me.
Just like that, the spell is broken.