Chapter One #3
He’s got a good profile: solid jawline, plump, full lips. But it’s his lashes that stand out, even against the setting sunlight. I’ve always been a sucker for a man with pretty eyes.
“I promise.” I nearly whisper the words, almost unsure if I even said them out loud, but when Nate turns to look at me with those bright, blue-green eyes, something in my chest tightens and my heart breaks a little at the devastation in those beautiful eyes.
I don’t know that everything will be okay. We’re not supposed to say things like that since it’s considered false hope, and when people are vulnerable, they latch on to things like that. Blame others when things aren’t okay.
You said it would be okay, AJ.
You promised.
My dad’s voice reverberates in my brain, but I shove it aside.
Now is certainly not the time to go down memory lane.
I know more than anyone how the damage a fire causes goes beyond what it consumes.
Fire doesn’t just burn down buildings; it burns everything it touches.
Including your heart and the things you love, leaving more than just ash in its wake.
Nate looks at me, his eyes searching mine as if he wants to believe me, and that alone makes me feel more exposed than I’ve felt in a long fucking time. Because maybe on some level, I want to believe if he can be okay, maybe one day I will be, too.
Nate leans a little closer to me, invading what little space is left between us.
“No,” he says, his voice full of exhaustion. “It’s not.” He lets out a sigh, his jaw tensing as he holds my gaze. I should look away, but I can’t.
Silence breeds between us, poisoning the air. The sun disappears behind the smoking house; the sky painted in shades of ochre, crimson and rust, shadowed by thick tendrils of smoke like a lingering protest of its own.
Normally, I’d argue. I’d find whatever words I needed to assure those who needed it.
Then I’d guide them to the ambulance, give them a hopeful smile, and go back and finish the job, whatever that may be.
Returning to the fire to pull someone else out, or maybe even a pet or beloved stuffie.
Consoling a husband or wife, a mother or father, or even a friend.
And then, when all was said and done, I’d climb back on the rig and go home.
To the firehouse.
Or towards another fire, maybe.
And on the shittiest nights, I’d end up at the bar with JJ or back at Shadows the noises and chatter, and the aura of tragedy and hope dancing a macabre waltz in the ruins of the ashes it left.
“I’ll take him from here, AJ,” Lacey, one of the paramedics on scene, says, pulling me from my thoughts. I have the strangest urge to hold onto him—to Mr. Bright Eyes—and never let go.
Maybe I just need some sleep—real sleep.
Or a drink.
Matter of fact, I think that’s exactly what I need. A good stiff drink that’ll knock me on my ass so hard I won’t remember this fucked up night.
Maybe I’ll call JJ and see if he wants to get a beer or something…
Lacey smiles softly at me in that sweet way she always does, and I know that’s my cue.
My work here is done. At least where Nate is concerned.
She can take it from here. Still, it feels unnatural and worrisome to let him go, but reluctantly, I guide him towards Lacey.
My stupid heart lurches at the sight of his sadness, his hopelessness, almost as if that look is because of me.
It isn’t, and I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact I feel compelled to make it better. That I want to make it better...
I take a step back, watching as Nate’s shoulders hunch forward and Lacey leads him over to the back of the ambulance.
Phoenix calls out my name, and I know I need to leave.
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to.