Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Aaron
The night passes in a haze of activity. The entire station is out here now, after the fire blazed for hours unabated. It quickly became crystal clear that our small shift team was in way over our heads.
Our remaining team was eager to get in on the action, upset that they hadn’t been called in sooner.
We take turns throughout the night, some of us closing our eyes for just an hour or two in the back of the truck. Finishing the job would be impossible for us without rest. The vibration of the hose, the weight of it draped over an arm, the constant anxiety and alertness—it wears you down.
Every time I step away from the fire, even for a moment, the tenderness of my burned skin sets in. My hands are bright red and raw, most of the skin covered in painful blisters that make it hard to flex.
As a seasoned firefighter, I know what third-degree burns look like: leathery, charred, black, impossible to stomach. Gratitude rushes in that, while painful, my hands will heal normally with treatment.
I stifle the thought of who I want treatment from. Or I try, at least.
Even now, I can’t stop thinking about Paige. My life is on the line, and the only thought that cycles through my head while I’m applying a new coat of retardant is that I need to get back to her. To Noah.
I have vowed to myself a million times that I would return to her. I refuse to leave things between us the way we did, ending a burning hot romance over a cold, calculated text message.
Absolutely not.
A lot of people have left me behind in life. And I’ve let them, choosing to allow relationships to slip through my fingers when it feels easier for me. This time, it feels remarkably different. It isn’t easier for me.
Crown Hill isn’t the type of place that you can just leave. I’ve worked too hard to be here—to earn my place as captain, to connect with the guys at the station who are becoming my family, to create a life I can be proud to claim as my own.
I’m not going to ruin the best thing that I’ve had going for me since the day my dad picked me up off that sidewalk and showed me that I had potential.
Next to being a firefighter, Crown Hill is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I’ll get back to her. I know I will.
But first, I have to put my gear back on and relieve someone else so that they can rest. I have to stand in front of the flames and prove to Paige—and to everyone else—that I’m the kind of man who can stand amid the burning flames.
And make it all stop.
* * *
Paige
The knock on the door couldn’t have come at a worse time. Noah has just woken up with a blowout diaper. The coffee hasn’t finished brewing yet. And the dishes from last night sit there, mocking me.
I yell to the door from the bathroom, where I have Noah playing in a tub full of warm water. Summer has a key; she can let herself in.
“What in the world is going on in here?” she asks, poking her head around the bathroom door.
“Blowout diaper. Easier to wash up in the tub.”
Noah giggles at the sight of my closest friend, smiling as she leans over and kisses the top of his wet hair.
“Please be a good friend and brew a pot of coffee.”
“First order of business,” she says.
She’s already downstairs and filling the coffee pot with fresh grounds before I can take a breath. The clank of mugs being pulled from the cabinets makes my mouth water. I can practically feel the caffeine racing through my veins.
“We’re just about to call it a day here,” I murmur to Noah as I gently pour more warm water over his shoulders to prevent him from shivering.
Summer comes back up and jumps up onto the counter, an easy smile crossing her face. Her skin is tanned from a honeymoon spent on the beach and exploring the tropical getaway.
“You seem awfully relaxed for someone whose husband has been battling a wildfire all night,” I say, my brow furrowed.
How could she possibly be so relaxed when I feel like I can barely breathe?
“Honeymoon bliss,” she explains. “I wish I could describe just how dreamy it all was. No obligations. No interruptions.”
“I think I’ll pass on the descriptions of what made your trip so memorable.” A laugh burst out of me, surprising and fresh. “I made a few memories of my own while you were out of town.”
Summer’s eyes widen, and she hops off the counter to come closer. We’ve never gone this long without talking. I’ve never even withheld a juicy tidbit of gossip, much less my newly burgeoning sex life.
“You’re going to need to dish,” she says. “Now.”
So I tell her everything she missed while I lift Noah from the tub. We trace our way back from the wedding reception to the kiss Aaron gave me at the end of the night, the kitchen fire and the pancakes, and the scene I walked in on after Aaron picked Noah up from daycare.
When I finish, Summer has that mischievous sparkle in her eyes—the one she had when she finagled an invitation for the captain from her kindhearted firefighter husband.
“What I’m hearing you say is that you owe your relationship to me,” she says with a laugh.
She pours the fresh coffee into the mugs she prepared earlier, hands one to me, and sits on the couch with her legs tucked under her.
“I wish it were that simple,” I mutter, trying to keep my gaze on Noah. Tears prick the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over the way they have been doing since I sent that text.
“You met a handsome man. He’s fabulous in bed. He adores you. What about that isn’t simple?”
Noah laughs and plays at our feet, crawling from one toy to the next without any regard for the heaviness of the conversation happening around him. I reach for the fluffy bunny he stole from Summer, fingering its soft fur to ground myself.
“You’re holding that bunny like it is a lifeline,” Summer remarks softly. “What could possibly be wrong? That all sounds like good news.”
I clutch the bunny even closer to my chest, trying to draw a small modicum of comfort from it. Memories of all the times Noah clutched the bunny to his chest in almost the same way flash through my mind.
“I ended things with him,” I finally choke out. “Over a text message.”
Summer says nothing, giving me the floor to share whatever I want or need. She kneels on the floor and plays with Noah so I can pull myself together. Nobody says anything. Even Noah plays quietly without a single coo.
“I want things to be real,” I add after a minute. “Once, Noah and I visited Mr. Oakley, and he asked about Aaron. When Noah heard his name, he called him Dada.”
“Sounds like Noah is a good judge of character,” she says, as if it doesn’t matter that my son finally thinks someone is his dad. Someone he is bound to lose.
“I thought I would have heard from him by now,” I whisper. “He texted me back a couple of times, but I never heard back. Not after I sent the last text. He didn’t argue. He just… let me go.”
“Aaron doesn’t seem like the kind of man to force himself on anyone,” Summer says pointedly. “You remember Zachary telling us that he was a little closed off. Didn’t share much with the guys.”
“I know, but he was always different with me.”
“Maybe it’s his default,” she offers. “Maybe you need to do a little work to get past his defenses.”
“If he really wanted this to work, he would have texted me back by now,” I complain, trying to make my best friend see reason.
“You know where he is. Zachary barely even sends me a text when something like this comes up,” Summer chastises me.
Deep down, part of me knows that she’s right. Of course, texting me back isn’t Aaron’s top priority right now.
“I think he’s mad,” I say instead. Not a change of subject, but a shift in content. I don’t want to blame his job for keeping him from me.
“Well, he probably was. But that was before he went up there to save us all,” Summer scolds me again. “If he is angry, he has every right to be. He put himself out there with you, and you ended it before it began. Over a text message.”
I groan and press a pillow to my face to hide my pink cheeks. I don’t have to be a seasoned relationship expert to know that Summer is one hundred percent right.
“You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to take my side,” I complain when she doesn’t make any move to soften her words.
“No can do. Not when you’re the one who’s wrong.” Despite the harsh words, Summer gives me a gentle smile. Her voice drops, a telltale sign that she’s about to say something serious. “Stop being afraid to live your life, Paige. It’s been too long.”
“I’m not afraid to live my life,” I say, eager to set the record straight.
“You are. If Aaron is truly what you want, then you should go after him. Without apology. Without logic. Without reason. Just because you want to, just because it feels like the right thing to do.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit.
“You’ve spent your entire life putting everyone else’s needs above your own. Everyone else is more important. Me, Levi, Noah. I hate to say it, but you did it with James, too. It’s time for you to do something for yourself for a change,” she insists.
The weight of her words hangs in the air between us. There is an undeniable truth to them, one I feel in my gut.
“What if Aaron—”
“Dada,” Noah blurts, looking around the room for any sign of the man himself.
Summer freezes, almost like she didn’t believe me when I told her what happened at Mr. Oakley’s.
“See? I can’t bring him into this.” The words come out in a rush. “What if he decides he doesn’t want to raise a child for the rest of his life? What if he did want me for you-know-what, and then Noah would have two father figures to miss?”
“No,” Summer interrupts me firmly before I can spiral further. “What if Aaron is exactly who he says he is? What if he wants you more than you want him? What if you finally get the happiness you deserve?”
I sigh. She has valid points. I just don’t know if a happily-ever-after is really in the cards for me. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that, not even when James and I got married. We were young, and I don’t know that I would call what we had real love.
Or maybe I would. We had real, immature love with some seriously mature issues.
I open my mouth to share some of these thoughts with her. I just want to get them out of my head, to give them shape and help myself make sense of them. But I never get the chance before Summer’s phone rings.
Our conversation is forgotten in the flurry of grabbing the phone. Neither of us has had an update since the start of the fire.
Zachary.
She answers it quickly, and I try to give her privacy to talk to her new husband alone. Surely, she wants to tell him how much she loves him. I head to the kitchen to refill my coffee cup.
I’m pouring cream when she calls from the living room, “The fire is out. Everyone is fine, just a few minor injuries.”
The cream slips out of my hand before the words register. A few minor injuries—what does that mean, exactly? Minor by whose standards?
“Who?” My voice is hoarse and croaky when I force the word out.
“Samson.” She looks me dead in the eye. “And Aaron.”
I take a deep breath, letting the information wash over me.
Aaron could have been killed in that wildfire, or could have been seriously injured. And I had been stupid. So, so stupid to end things with him. To send him off to the fire without so much as a hint of how I really feel toward him.
“Go,” Summer says firmly. “Go to the hospital and take care of them. Noah is safe with me.”