10. Ian
“You’re in so much trouble,” Atlas teases, his smirk stretching across his face, instantly grating on my nerves. His eyes glint with mischief, and I can feel the challenge in his words.
I shift my gaze to Beckett, who simply shrugs, his expression a mix of amusement and warning. “Mom is on the warpath, and she’s gunning for you,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of foreboding.
“I haven’t done jack shit,” I retort, crossing my arms in defiance, though my heart starts to race.
“And that’s the problem,” Atlas interjects, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Mom is dying to meet your woman, and you’ve been keeping her to yourself.” His words hang in the air, a reminder of the pressure mounting from my family.
A wave of frustration crashes over me. Can’t they see I’m busy focusing all my efforts on making sure Sage falls in love with me? I open my mouth, ready to shoot back a sharp reply, when the radio crackles to life, slicing through the tension like a lightning bolt.
“Fire at Riverbend Elementary, all available units respond,” the voice rings out through the intercom, urgent and clear, sending my heart plummeting. Sage’s school. Damn it. No, please no.
“Fuck!” Atlas shouts, tossing me my gear, his face set with determination. I catch the gear, but my mind is a whirlwind, caught between the need to do my job and my worry for Sage. My insides twist with fear as the words run through my mind on a constant loop.
Fire at Sage’s school, and I'm on the brink of losing my grip, hanging by the thread of professionalism. What if she hasn’t gotten out? I should fucking be there already. Anxious energy courses through me, from boots to helmet, as I wrestle with the desperate urge to rush in.
The ride to Riverbend Elementary stretches like elastic, tight and unending. Who knew two minutes could stretch into a fucking eternity. The other guys read my silence and give me space. They know exactly where my mind is at, and it’s not long before the school looms in front of us, thick plumes of black smoke licking the spring sky .
I’m out of the truck before the tires fully stop, heart roaring in my chest. Every sense zeroes in on the unfolding chaos. Kids are fleeing the building, each one a stab of worry. Teachers are wrangling the lines of shoving kids with open arms and forced smiles. I see them all. I see none of them. There is one singular thought flowing through my mind. I need to fucking find Sage.
I thread through the crowd, scanning faces. I look for a glimpse of her gorgeous blonde hair. Eloise comes into view, waving both arms, urgency and relief mixing in her gestures.
“She’s okay,” Eloise yells over the din, but I’m not buying what she’s selling. “But she went back in!” She’s breathless. “To save the damn hamster!”
I don’t need to hear it twice. My instincts are dead on, and that’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. Still, I’m stunned by the truth of it. Stunned but moving. Stunned but utterly committed.
I burst into the building, eyes burning from the heavy smoke and the weight of my own desperation. The hallways are stark and eerily empty. My fellow firemen are busy working to contain the fire while her name rattles through my skull, filling the cavity until it’s a scream, then an echo, then just a resounding beat.
And there she is, barely fifty feet away and rounding the corner, curls and hamster and all, charging down the hallway with her blue eyes wide as open windows. I freeze, everything in me crackling and electric.
“SAGE!”
I bellow her name, the relief a powerful surge within me, yet disbelief hits me even harder like a sledgehammer. I can't wrap my head around the fact that she actually charged back into this inferno of a building to save a hamster.
"Why did you run back in?" I thunder, my voice ricocheting off the barren walls. Atlas catches up, sliding in beside me with a curt nod. I know what's coming. It's written all over his face.
"You catch more bees with honey." He grins, and I can almost feel the imaginary buzz vibrating in his head.
"Fuck off!"
Sage finally reaches us, her face flushed and her breath coming in ragged gasps, yet there's no exhaustion or fear in her eyes. I see unyielding resolve, a determination that resonates deeply, and I envelop her in a fierce, crushing hug, determined to hold on with everything I have.
"Calm down. You're frightening George," she soothes, giving me a sharp look. "The fire's on the opposite side of the gym, so I was sure it was safe." She gives me the most indignant expression I've ever encountered. My God, I love her so damn much.
“You can’t run into a burning building.” It’s an order. I can’t make it sound like anything else. My arms are around her, but she stiffens, glaring at me. “Are you okay?” I have to know. I have to feel the words on her lips.
She nods, and a wave of relief surges through me, drowning out everything except the comforting presence of Sage nestled in my arms, safe and sound. Her green eyes, usually so bright, are now clouded with frustration. "I’m fine, but I’m pissed at you," she says, her voice laced with disappointment. The accusatory look on her face softens into a reproachful glare, so intense that it feels like a physical pressure pressing against my chest.
"Me?" I stammer, confusion and disbelief mingling in my voice. Why is she so mad at me?
"Yes," she insists, her voice unwavering. "You yelled at me for doing the right thing." She doesn’t understand the depth of my fear. The thought of losing her sends a chill down my spine; if anything had happened to her, I don't know how I would cope.
Gently, I set her down just outside the doorway. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she darts across the grass, eager to reassure the kids in her class that George, the class pet hamster, is safe and sound in his little cage .
I watch her, my heart heavy with the need to make things right between us, even though time is not on my side. The knowledge that she is okay eases the ache in my chest just a bit, but I know this conversation isn't over. I'll have to wait until my job here is finished to sit down with her and untangle the hurt and misunderstanding between us because letting her go isn’t an option.
It doesn’t matter if we’re turning over every scrap of timber and making sure there’s no flare-up. Doesn’t matter if the last piece of equipment is back on the truck. It sure as hell doesn’t matter if the crew’s yelling at me to head home and get some sleep. Nope. The whole night is a repetition of one single thought, and the more I chase it, the faster it spins. Sage.
I wrap up the last of my work, sifting through the remaining debris like it’s some kind of purgatory. This is the first fucking time I’ve ever been more worried about my personal life than the scene.
When we’re back at the station, I shower and head straight for my phone, dripping and half-dressed and oblivious to the guys’ smirks. She’s a stubborn woman. I’m an even more stubborn man. Her phone rings and eventually goes to voicemail. Fuck .
When my phone buzzes with a text, I glance down at the screen.
Sage
You were a jerk
Maybe so, but I was so goddamn worried about her. She has no idea the living hell I went through thinking she was hurt.
Before I’m able to stop myself, I text back.
Me
I was.
A jerk who fucking loves you.
I half-expect silence, half-expect her to materialize and punch me, so when my phone rings, I’m caught completely off guard. The hesitation between rings is unbearable, but there it is. The light at the end of my dark, smoky tunnel.
“Hello?”
“You’re still a jerk.”
“But?”
I hear her take a breath. I hear her wait it out, letting me know she’s still got the upper hand.
"But," she whispers, her voice like a gentle caress, "I guess jerks are my thing because I love you, too. "
Damn. My heart slams back into its rightful place, steadying itself for the first time since that gut-wrenching call from Riverbend Elementary shattered my peace.
"I’m the only jerk who’s going to be having anything with you.” I get that straight right away. “I'm glad to hear you love me, too," I say, my eyes darting around to ensure no unwanted ears are eavesdropping. Then, with a low, fervent promise, I add, "And I'm going to show you just how much when I get off shift."