Chapter Twelve Hale
Ipull on clean clothes and move through my apartment on autopilot, every room too quiet, too empty.
Eventually, I sink onto the couch with a beer I barely taste, the dark pressing in around me. I don’t turn on the television. I don’t need to hear anyone else tell me how badly things are going.
As if the universe is done letting me sit in that truth, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
For half a second, I think it might be a call from the station.
Instead, I see her name.
Lila Hart.
I hesitate — just long enough to pretend I have a choice — then answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank fuck,” she says without preamble.
“Okay, so I didn’t want to fuss and call the actual fire department because I know how busy you guys are, like, all the time, but then I figured maybe you could at least help me with something?
Except, now that I’m thinking about it, you’re probably off-duty right now, which means the last thing you want to do is deal with what I’m sure is a total non-emergency—”
“Lila,” I cut in, sitting up straight. “What’s wrong?”
“Ugh, nothing, I’m sure, but I heard you were supposed to take shit like this really seriously, you know?”
“Shit like what?”
“My neighbor just called and said my carbon monoxide alarm is going off and I don’t really know what to do about that, but it’s, like, smart of me to not enter the apartment, right?
But it feels too ridiculous to call actual 9-1-1!
But what if there’s something wrong in there—I haven’t been home in literal days—and then it kills people? ”
“Lila.”
“I’m on my way, only five minutes from my place, and I tried Googling it, but Google just says to evacuate immediately, and I don’t know if that means the whole building has to evacuate, and then it’ll be my fault that everyone’s dinnertime is ruined…”
“Lila.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know I had that alarm! Which probably sounds stupid to you, but you rent a place and you sign all those random forms and the little thingies are up on the ceiling and you don’t think about it!”
“Lila, for fuck’s sake,” I growl. “Listen to me.”
“I—okay.”
“Where are you right now?”
“At my apartment.”
I stand up in an instant. “Don’t—”
“Well, not at my apartment. I’m standing outside, wondering if I’m about to be the reason my entire building is asphyxiated. Is that the right word? Oh my fucking God, Hale, this is an emergency, isn’t it? I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” I mutter, already moving toward the door and grabbing my keys. “Just text me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Until then, don’t enter your apartment.”
“But—”
“If nobody else’s alarms are going off, the building itself is likely safe for now, but wait for me to get there, okay?”
“Maybe I should just call the—”
“Lila. Obey my instructions. Text me your address. Wait for me. Got it?”
I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Then a meek: “Okay. Aye-aye, Captain.”
She hangs up and I duck into the hall closet to yank open the duffel of spare safety equipment I keep on hand out of pure habit. I grab the carbon monoxide detector and, though it won’t do a whole lot of good if it’s a bad leak, a disposable respirator.
A few seconds later, a text with her address comes through. She’s not far from me, just about ten blocks further uptown. What are the chances that we’d been circling so close long before we met, yet never ran into each other?
Instead of messing around with transportation, I jog to her place.
I find her crouched on the stoop, but she jumps to her feet the moment she sees me.
Her emerald eyes are wide. “Did you run here?”
“S’faster,” I mutter. “I don’t live far.”
“What? You don’t?”
“Nope.”
A smile dances on her lips. “Oh. Small world.”
My gaze drops to those lips, causing my brain to turn hazy for a brief second.
I clear my throat sharply. “Show me inside?”
“Right.”
I follow her into the building. It’s one of the classic pre-war walk-ups that most people who don’t earn at least six figures a year find themselves living in. There’s a strong scent of dust and roach repellent in the halls, but it’s an otherwise decently maintained building.
I hear the alarm when we reach the third floor. It’s faint, beeping from behind a door marked 4LW, about once every ten to twelve seconds. Lila approaches it cautiously, keys in hand.
“Step aside and don’t follow until I clear it,” I tell her, then place the respirator over my face.
Pulling the handheld meter from my pocket, I take the keys from her and unlock the door.
The lock gives way with a dull thunk. I let the door creak open only an inch or two, and place the meter in the open crack.
Nothing.
I open it wider and take a step inside. Still nothing.
Moving into the apartment, I keep an eye on the meter as I make my way toward the alarm.
When I see that the battery light is flashing, I scoff and toss the pointless meter aside. There’s nothing poisonous in the air.
With a twist, I release the alarm from it’s position high up on the wall and flick the switch on the back to silence it. Tugging off the mask, I glance over my shoulder to find Lila fidgeting awkwardly in the hallway.
“You can come in,” I tell her.
“I’m not going to die?”
“I just took my mask off, didn’t I?”
“Well, you’re, like, made of tougher stuff. Or whatever.” Still, she steps inside and closes the door behind her, timidly approaching the silenced alarm resting on the countertop of her tiny kitchenette.
“You’re supposed to change these batteries once a year, Lila.”
“What? According to who?”
“According to the fire captain telling you to your face right now. Also, according to common knowledge.”
Lila frowns up at me. “That’s not common knowledge. I thought they lasted, like, ten years.”
“It’s not a watch battery. It’s an emergency detection system. It’s imperative that it’s operating all the—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Lila sighs, prodding the dead alarm with her fingertip. “Everything is a learning experience, I guess. At least I gained some knowledge today, huh?”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. Again, people and their optimism.
Then, with a jolt, I realize where I am.
I’m inside Lila’s home. And we are alone.
And she, as always, looks beautiful.
Feeling suddenly out of my element, I glance around.
Her place is small, just a modest studio with a bedroom alcove, but the furnishings she’s chosen are so quintessentially her that I almost smile at the sight of it.
Everything is soft pastels and frilly edges, lace curtains and enough throw pillows to cushion the entirety of the floorspace if she wanted.
Even quiet and empty, it’s still so much more inviting than my place. I suppose that’s what I’m missing. A feminine touch.
I snort softly.
“What?” Lila frowns, following my line of sight. “It’s too girly for your taste?”
“Well, yes, but… I like it. It suits you.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
I slip my mask and the monitor back into my pocket, at a loss for words. “Uh…”
“Also, thank you for coming here. I would have felt so embarrassed if the fire department rolled up just to tell me that my batteries need to be replaced. I really hope I didn’t interrupt something important.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t on duty.”
“There are other important things besides work, Hale.”
I love the way she says my name. I love the way she gazes up at me with those round eyes, the way she chews on that pouty bottom lip.
“Like what?” I ask.
Lila tilts her head to the side. “I don’t know. Like… a date?”
A beat passes. My instinct is to think it’s a joke. I’ve dated in the past, of course. And I’m not exactly a chaste man or a prude. But it’s been a long time since anyone has held my interest long enough for me to bother with the mind-numbing process of dating.
Moreover, does she think I would kiss like I did her one week and frolic off into the sunset with another woman the next?
My brow furrows. “No, I was not on a date at four-thirty on a Monday afternoon, Lila.”
She tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder, hands fluttering nervously as she shuffles her feet in the little kitchenette area. “Makes sense.”
“I’m not—I don’t have the time or patience for any of that… stuff.”
Something shifts in her gaze. Disappointment, maybe. Like it’s the real explanation she’s been waiting for since the way we left things after the gala.
“I understand.” She drags her teeth along her bottom lip, glancing away.
“Lila.”
“Hm?”
“It’s not personal. You’re lovely. But—”
“But we’re colleagues, and the union stuff, and I’m probably not even your type anyway, so—”
“What?” This time, I let out a real laugh. “Is that what you think the problem is?”
“I—”
I step closer before I can stop myself, lowering my voice. “What I do have,” I murmur, “is want.”
My fingers close gently around her wrist—not pulling, not demanding. Just there. Steady. Intentional.
“You are my type, Lila.”
The words feel dangerous the second they leave my mouth, but they’re also the truest thing I’ve said all day. “You’re lovely. And if things were different…” My jaw tightens. “I’d already be on my knees for you.”
She gapes at me, breath hitching, those wide eyes flicking down to where I’m touching her before lifting again.
“Well,” she murmurs, looking up through her lashes, holding perfectly still like she’s daring me to be the one who breaks, “we’re not in the fire station right now. So it’s technically not fraternizing.”
“I’m not sure that adheres to the Hawk’s guidelines.”
“And as much as I respect her, I’m not sure I care right now.”
I shouldn’t. In fact, I can’t. There’s a reason I put distance between us after that first kiss. Around her, I feel out of control. I can’t focus on being the leader that everyone needs me to be.
And yet, when she looks at me like this, all I want to be is the man who makes her moan my name.
So, because my day started out shaky in the first place and my willpower is already hanging on a thread, I give in to temptation.
I reach for Lila, pulling her against me. She gasps, bracing her palms against my chest. I capture her lips with mine, and she melts into the kiss so immediately that it proves that she craved this touch just as badly as I did.
Slowly, I back her up against her kitchen cupboards, then lift her up onto the counter. She wraps her legs around my waist, grabbing fistfuls of my collar to pull me closer.
Lila makes a soft sound against my mouth.
But then, somehow, between one kiss and the next, she’s pushing me away.
It’s not a forceful shove, but a subtle pressure that instantly alerts me to the fact that she no longer wants this, that she wants to backtrack.
I rip my lips away from hers, still tasting her sweetness on my tongue when I take a significant step back.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “It’s just…”
“It’s okay.” I shake my head, smoothing down my shirt. “You were right to stop me. I might not have stopped myself.”
“I shouldn’t have let that happen,” she whispers, fingers still curled in my collar like she can’t decide whether to hold on or let go. “Because the truth is… my head is a mess.”
Lila swallow hard. “I have to tell you, Hale—I almost kissed Evan.”
The admission is so unexpected that all I can manage is pure confusion.
“Reyes?”
The name hits like a cold slap—jealousy, shock, and something uglier I don’t let myself call by name.
“It’s stupid. I mean, we didn’t kiss. We wouldn’t have. But there was a moment, and I wanted to.”
I’m not sure what to do with that. Is she saying she prefers another man?
“And then Noah…” She runs her fingers through her thick hair.
“What about him?”
“There’s something between us. I can feel it, but I haven’t acted on it. He’s probably not interested.”
I scoff, because that’s ridiculous. Of course Noah is interested in Lila. Who wouldn’t be?
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because this campaign is already a powder keg,” she says, voice shaking. “And if I’m going to be anywhere near you—near any of you—I can’t be careless.” “Honest about…?”
Lila shrugs. “I don’t know, actually.”
“So, you’re saying you’d rather it was Reyes kissing you in your kitchen right now. Not me.”
For some reason, I’m not entirely upset by that. It’s just so painfully obvious that Lila is an incredible woman with immeasurable beauty that I can’t resent my own men for desiring her. It’d be like getting angry at them because they also acknowledge the sky is blue and the grass is green.
“No!” Lila quickly protests. “I want—God, I really do want you. But it’s complicated. I want a lot of things right now, Hale. And sometimes, you really don’t always get to have everything you want.”
Indeed, I’ve never heard truer words than that. I sweep a hand over my face, scrubbing my stubble.
“Alright, then.”
She stares at me for a moment. “That’s it? Alright?”
I nod once. “Alright. I understand.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why the hell would I be mad?”
“I’m mad at myself for forgetting where the line is,” I say instead, voice rough. “Not at you for being human.”
She tilts her head again, as if letting the world lay in a state of imbalance will help her see the path forward. But from the look on her face, it seems like Lila doesn’t know the answer to that question.
Shaking her head, she hops off the counter. I step toward the door.
“I’m sleeping here tonight, since I’m already home,” she says. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? The third episode is shooting.”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“See you Wednesday, then.”
“Yes. See you then.”
There’s an awkward moment where neither one of us knows what to do. A kiss goodbye seems counterintuitive, and I’m not much of a hugger.
In the end, I lift my hand in a stilted wave, then show myself out.
I walked home with the taste of her still on my tongue and the unsettling certainty that wanting her wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that I wasn’t the only one.