Chapter Fourteen Evan
Lila only just finished filming for the third episode of Save A Hero two days ago, and she’s already switching gears to collect content for testimonial-style interview segments that will be used for catchy, short-form content.
That’s how she described it to me, at least.
There are camera guys everywhere. Not just the guy named Jake and his assistant, but a second cameraman, a production assistant, and a couple other technicians. It feels a little bit like we’re filming a reality show, which I guess we sort of are.
Noah is, obviously, having the time of his life.
Hale, predictably, looks like he’s one breath away from throttling someone.
And when I look at Lila, I see that she’s absolutely in her element.
Her hair is up today, pinned up in a braided bun sort of thing that makes her look like a ballerina, except that wild tresses are escaping in tendrils around her face.
She wields her clipboard like an aircraft marshal, directing her crew in an organized fashion so they don’t get in the way of business as usual.
She knows that, if duty calls, they’ll have to press pause on their entire thing.
As if she can feel me watching her, Lila turns and levels me with an unreadable look. I’m keeping myself busy by pointlessly rearranging med kits in the back of one of the trucks. In truth, I’m just trying to avoid the worst of the chaos.
She marches toward me across the hectic space, a woman on a mission. “Evan.”
The closer she gets, the more I can tell that she’s a little flustered underneath the surface. Her cheeks are flushed, and I might be mistaken, but it seems like she might be struggling to meet my eyes.
Before I can answer her, Noah brushes along behind her, heading toward the gear room with a pile of laundry that Hale probably assigned to him. It’s just a brief pass, a fleeting touch between them, but the blush on Lila’s cheeks deepens.
Interesting.
“What do you need?” I ask when she reaches me.
“Now, that’s the kind of greeting I like to hear.” She points at the back hall, where one of our informal meeting rooms has been designated as today’s filming area. “Old Bill’s doing his interview now. Do you want to go after him?”
I hesitate. “But I already did an interview, didn’t I? During my episode?”
“Well, I’d like to get more content. You’re handsome and charming, and the public will want to see as much of you as possible.”
“Will they?”
Lila grins. “I certainly do. Why are you hiding in here, anyway?”
I chuckle, a tingle fluttering along my skin at the sight of that smile.
Good fucking God, I’m a grown man with a crush.
“I’m not hiding, I swear. I’m just doing my job.”
She observes me for a moment, then opens her mouth to speak.
“Lila?” one of the filming crew calls for her.
With a sigh, she waves vaguely at them, then tosses another smile my way.
“An interview? In, like, ten minutes?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“You’re the best.”
That’s hardly true, but I accept the compliment with a smile of my own.
She flounces off again, nearly taking out a rookie with her clipboard.
I feel a little itchy at the thought of stepping in front of the camera again. In fact, the only reason I made it through my episode was because I had Leo and the attendees of the Family Safety Fair to act as a buffer.
I’m a private man. And it seems like the whole world is watching us nowadays.
Andrew Banks is running new ads, throwing around words like “reckless” and “unprofessional.” A bulk of the news media is eating it up, because it’s a hot topic, and Save A Hero, as positive as it is, lends them more material. Every move we make becomes another debate in the comment section.
Even when we do something right, Banks finds a way to spin it into convoluted proof that we don’t deserve funding.
I make my way over to the filming hub, pulling out my phone to check my email. But when I see a horribly familiar name pop into my inbox, I duck into an alcove as my heart stutters into a panic.
From: Anita Collins
Subject: Leo
Dear Evan,
It’s time we discuss Leo’s future. He is my family by blood. We think he would be better off with us. I have contacted a lawyer and intend to begin the process. Your cooperation will be appreciated.
Best, A
My hand clenches the phone so tight that I almost wish the screen would shatter.
I’ve only met Anita once before, almost six years ago. My late wife, her cousin Bella, invited her to our wedding, even though she was estranged from most of her relatives due to their continued support of her previous boyfriend—Leo’s biological father—despite his cruelty.
After that, I can’t remember Anita ever giving enough of a fuck about Bella or Leo to check in. She might have sent a holiday card once or twice, obvious afterthoughts, but when Bella passed away, Anita wasn’t among the two cousins who helped me lay her to rest.
Nor did she say a word when I kept Leo under my roof and continued raising him as my son.
Now, here she is, appearing out of the blue, determined to ruin everything.
It was stupid of me to drag my feet on the adoption process. I should have done it right away, should have ensured that Leo couldn’t legally be taken from me as soon as possible. Bella and I were already discussing it before her accident.
It’s just another hurdle, I tell myself. There will be a way around it as long as I keep my head.
At least I don’t have to worry about Leo’s real father coming for him. Last I checked, the bastard was still in prison.
I brace my hand against the wall for a sense of balance.
“It’s just a problem,” I say out loud. “Problems are solvable.”
Nobody in the station overhears me talking to myself, thankfully.
But suddenly, I can’t stomach the thought of smiling for a camera.
Not now that I’m faced with the very real possibility that my son—because that’s what Leo is, no matter what anyone tries to argue—might be handed back to the family that willingly pardoned the man who made Bella’s life a living hell.
The man who certainly would have made Leo’s life a living hell, too, if Bella hadn’t escaped that cursed relationship when he was still just a baby.
I close my eyes and think about my wife.
It’s been four years since I lost her, which is longer than the amount of time we had together.
I’ve known for a while now that I’m ready to love again, ready to find someone who would care for Leo as their own, just like I do. Bella would want me to be ready.
And I know that, without a doubt, she wouldn’t want Anita to take Leo.
Around the corner, the door to the filming room yawns open. Old Bill comes ambling out. It’s my turn.
But I can’t.
I need to move, not sit still. I need to think, not speak.
With a silent apology hurled in Lila’s general direction, I slip away and head downstairs to the gym.
My heart hammers, agitation crawling in the marrow of my bones.
The gym is blissfully empty when I push open the door, and I’ve never been more relieved to be alone in my life.
I yank off my hoodie, not caring that I have nothing on underneath, and head straight for one of the treadmills. I can run faster than this. I can beat it.
Punching at the buttons, I set a steady pace and start running. I’ll regret not warming up, but for now I just need the exercise to dull the anxiety threatening to pull me under.
So, I run. And run.
About six and a half miles later, I realize that cardio isn’t quite doing the trick. I need to do something more tactile before I explode.
Hopping off the treadmill, I head to the free weights. I start a basic arm routine, going through the motions like its second nature.
Maybe it’s just a threat. Maybe Anita had a weird dream and woke up thinking about Bella, and was briefly inspired to fire off a threat like that. Maybe she doesn’t really have an attorney. Maybe this will turn into nothing at all.
Or maybe it’s true. Perhaps, because Station 47 has been in the news so much recently—and it wouldn’t be hard for Anita to figure out where I work—she thinks she has real evidence to prove that I’m not a fit father for Leo.
All she would have to do is point to the scandal that Banks insists on blowing out of proportion.
If the wrong judge looked at the case, I’d lose in a heartbeat.
I grunt, settling down on the weight bench to do bicep curls. My muscles burn, and I’m still panting from the run, but I don’t care.
At least, I think I don’t care, until the door to the gym opens and Lila steps inside.
I pause, nearly dropping the barbell on the floor.
I have no idea how much time has passed since I promised to sit for an interview. An hour? More?
Lila doesn’t look angry, though. If anything, she seems confused.
Glancing down, I remember that I’m shirtless. I’m definitely not jacked like Noah, nor am I impeccably toned like Hale, but Lila sweeps her green eyes over me nonetheless, a glimmer of something coming to life in that gaze.
I watch her approach, temporarily speechless as I struggle to figure out how to apologize for flaking.
She sits down on the bench beside me, her clipboard nowhere to be seen. I straddle the bench, facing her, and can’t seem to do anything but stare.
“I was looking for you,” she says softly.
“I, uh—I needed a moment.”
Her head tilts to the side. “Are you okay?”
“I just got some complicated news. Kind of don’t know how to deal with it, so I’m clearly trying to strain as many muscles in my body as possible.”
I didn’t mean to let that many words tumble out, but Lila’s proximity and the Anita-induced anxiety have me feeling disoriented.
Lila should definitely be upstairs running the show, but she remains where she is, observing me with nothing but kindness in her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Do I?
I think about how sweet she was to Leo when he wandered up to her dorm on the mezzanine. How adoring she was to him during the Family Safety Fair. Honestly, in the week since then, Leo has mentioned her several times, asking when he can come to the station and visit her, specifically.
Lila is the sort of person who cares about everyone. I don’t know her well, but I’ve seen enough to know that’s true.
So I take a deep breath, scrub a hand over my sweaty face, and say, “It’s about Leo.”
Her lips drop instantly into a frown. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. It’s just custody stuff. I didn’t think it’d be an issue. I thought I had time to deal with the adoption process at my own pace. It’s so expensive, you know? And for a case like mine, you need a really good lawyer. I wanted to make sure I did it right.”
Lila nods earnestly. “I understand that. I also like to do things right.”
Against all odds, a smile tugs at my lips. “Anyway, one of Leo’s blood relatives just reached out and said she thinks he’d be better off with them instead of me.”
She jerks back in shock. “What? But I thought they hardly ever spoke to you.”
“They don’t, it’s true.” I shrug. “Unfortunately, they’re his blood and I’m just some guy who was briefly married to his mother.”
“Why would she…?” Lila trails off, eyes lighting with indignation on my behalf.
So willing to go to battle for me, and I’m not even brave enough to reveal the truth of my desire for her.
“I don’t know. I was thinking it might be because she heard about the station. All the stuff going on in the news. Whatever.”
Lila narrows her eyes, but that raging fire of frustration isn’t directed at me.
“Ridiculous,” she snaps. “Anyone can see that you’re an incredible father to Leo!
Because that’s what you are to him. His real father, biology be damned!
You have an entire firehouse full of people who would vouch for you, Evan.
You’re an incredibly kind, patient, attentive father.
You’re a good man, and that distant relative is a wicked witch who is so bored with her own life that she feels the need to cause trouble in someone else’s! ”
When she finishes her rant, she stares hard at me.
I stare back at her.
“That’s nice of you to say,” I murmur.
“Well, I fucking mean it.” She huffs, leaning forward to rest her palm firmly on my knee. “Leo truly couldn’t ask for a better father, just like Station 47 couldn’t ask for a better EMT to have on their crew. And Hartstrings couldn’t ask for a better person to represent what a hero truly is.”
For some reason, I chuckle.
Lila squeezes my knee. “What?”
“This might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said, but…” I shake my head. “Somehow, you’re even prettier when you’re angry.”
She pauses, pulling her hand away.
I replay what I said, internally cringing at how fucking stupid it was. Who the hell tells a woman that she’s more attractive when she’s pissed off? That doesn’t exactly send the right message.
To my surprise, though, Lila bursts out laughing.
“You boys.” She sighs. “You keep saying things that catch me off guard.”
“Sorry. That was dumb.”
“No. I’m flattered that you find me pretty, no matter my emotional state.”
I swallow, hyperaware of how alone we are right now. “I do.”
Lila grins. “You’re pretty, too.”
“Pardon?”
“Well, handsome is obviously a better word. Downright dashing, for sure, if I ever saw you in anything other than FDNY-branded sweats.”
Her playful makes my stomach swoop with a rush of need. “Dashing, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes. I’m only vaguely aware that I’m leaning in. And that she’s leaning in toward me, too.
This is exactly the thing I’m not supposed to do. Especially not here in the gym, where anyone could waltz right in.
But there’s something unraveling inside me, and the only way I can make any sense of it is by being closer to her.
I reach out, twisting a strand of hair that’s escaped from her bun around my finger. She bites her lip, drawing my gaze to what I want to taste.
Fuck it.
I move my hand to cradle the back her head and pull her toward me.
Our lips collide. She responds without hesitation, scooting closer on the bench until she’s sat beneath my spread thighs.
She tastes like mint toothpaste and candy-sweet lip gloss, and she opens her mouth in a silent wish for me to deepen the kiss.
Except, right as I’m about to press my tongue against hers, the alarms start blaring.
Just like that, duty calls.