Chapter 13 #2
And today, I was going to prove it.
I clicked "Begin Exam."
Two days later, I got the results.
I was at the station, trying not to check my phone every few seconds, when the email came through. State EMS Certification Board. Subject line: Examination Results.
My hands were shaking as I opened it.
Dear Mr. Torres,
Congratulations. You have successfully passed the National Registry Paramedic examination...
I stopped reading right there.
I passed.
Paramedic. That was me now.
"Torres?" Shane's voice cut through the haze. "You okay? You look like you're about to pass out."
"I passed."
"What?"
"The exam. I'm a paramedic."
Shane's face split into a grin. Then he was grabbing me, pulling me into a hug that cracked my ribs.
"I knew it!" He pulled back, hands on my shoulders. "I told you. Didn't I tell you?"
"You told me."
"Damn right I did." He turned, shouted across the bay. "Hey! Torres passed his paramedic exam!"
What happened next was chaos. Garrett appeared from somewhere, offering a handshake and an actual smile.
Rodriguez emerged from his office, clapping me on the shoulder with a look of genuine pride.
Someone found a bottle of something that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there, and suddenly, there were toasts being made.
"To Torres," Rodriguez said, raising his paper cup. "Who finally stopped selling himself short."
"To Torres," the crew echoed.
I called Ava. She answered on the first ring.
"Well?"
"I passed."
The sound that came through the phone made me pull it back from my ear. In the background, I heard what sounded like a crash—probably whatever she'd been holding.
"I KNEW IT!" Her voice cracked, went high and breathless. "I knew you would! Brian, I'm so proud of you—"
"Are you crying?"
"No." A sniffle. "Definitely not."
Definitely crying.
The crew wouldn't let me leave until they'd properly congratulated me, which meant more toasts, more backslaps, more of Shane retelling the story of my first week as a probie, when I'd somehow managed to get the hose tangled around my own legs.
"Ancient history," I protested.
"Never gets old," Shane countered.
When I got home, Ava met me at the door. Launched herself into my arms
"I'm so proud of you," she said into my neck. "I'm so, so proud."
I held her tight, breathed her in. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Yes, you could have. You just wouldn't have done it as fast."
I laughed, carried her inside, and kicked the door shut behind us.
Watson meowed from somewhere in the apartment, demanding attention. We ignored him.
"Did you see?" Ava pulled back, eyes bright. "Sloane's article went live yesterday. It's everywhere."
I had seen. The story had broken that morning, the front page of the Times website, picked up by every major outlet within hours.
CITY COUNCILMAN'S SON FACES MANSLAUGHTER CHARGES IN COVERED-UP HIT-AND-RUN.
Investigation reveals systematic corruption, witness tampering, and a grieving family's six-month fight for justice.
"Derek Edwards' family released a statement," Ava continued. "They thanked me. Thanked all of us."
"You did this," I said. "You started all of this."
"We did it together." She cupped my face in her hands, looked at me with those green eyes that made my heart pound. "All of us. You and me and Shane and Garrett and Diaz and Sloane and even my father. We did it together."
Everything was finally coming together. The case was moving forward. The article was published. My certification was in hand.
For the first time in months, I let myself believe it was over.
"I think," Ava said slowly, a smile curving her lips, "that the newly certified paramedic deserves a proper celebration."
"What did you have in mind?"
She answered by pushing me back onto the bed, climbing over me with a smile that made my pulse jump.
"Lie back," she murmured. "Let me take care of you for once."
I wasn't about to argue.
She kissed me slowly, thoroughly, taking her time in a way that made me desperate. Her fingers worked the buttons of my shirt while her mouth traced a path down my jaw, my neck, the hollow of my throat.
God, she was stunning. The way her hair fell around her face. The concentration in her expression. The slight curve of her lips when she felt me shiver under her touch.
"Ava—"
"Shh." She pushed the fabric aside and pressed her lips to my chest. "You've been taking care of everyone else for months. Tonight is about you."
Her hands found my belt. My brain stopped working.
She undressed me with a patience I didn't deserve, dropping kisses on every inch of skin she revealed. Her mouth on my hip bone made me groan. Her fingers trailing down my thighs made me grip the sheets. By the time she'd stripped me bare, I was shaking.
Her eyes traveled down my body with an intensity that made heat pool low in my stomach. Then she pulled her own shirt over her head, and the sight of her knocked the breath from my lungs.
Soft skin. The curve of her waist. The swell of her breasts in that simple black bra. She was lean from years of running, but there was nothing hard about her—not here. Not with me. All softness. All warmth. I wanted my mouth on every inch of her.
"Any complaints?" she asked, reaching back to unclasp her bra.
"None. Zero. Absolutely not."
The bra fell away, and I stopped breathing entirely. I'd seen her naked before—many times now—but it still knocked the air out of me. The way her skin flushed under my gaze. She was perfect.
"You're staring," she murmured, but she was smiling.
"Can't help it." My voice came out rough. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
She laughed, low and warm, and slid out of her remaining clothes before lowering herself over me.
That first moment was always overwhelming. The heat of her, the warmth as she took me in, the way she fit around me like we were made for this. My hands flew to her hips, fingers digging into soft skin, and I had to close my eyes against the intensity of it.
Her green eyes were dark with desire, lips parted, cheeks flushed. Completely open in a way she never was with anyone else. This was Ava without walls. Without armor. Just her, trusting me with everything she was.
"I love you," I told her.
"I love you too." Her voice broke on the last word as she started to move. "God, I love you."
She set the pace, and I let her. Slow at first, torturously slow, rolling her hips in a rhythm that made me want to beg. My hands roamed her body—the curve of her waist, the softness of her stomach, and then my hands traveled higher up. She gasped and arched into my touch.
"Brian—"
I sat up without warning, wrapped my arms around her, and changed the angle. She cried out, fingers digging into my shoulders, legs tightening around my waist. Like this, I could feel every inch of her pressed against me. Her breath was hot on my neck. Her body clenching around me.
We moved together, her forehead pressed to mine. Close as two people could be. I could feel her getting close—the way she tensed, the way her breathing went ragged, the way she started making those small, desperate sounds that drove me crazy.
"That's it," I murmured against her throat.
I slid a hand between us, found the spot that made her gasp. The sounds she was making were going to be the death of me.
"Brian—I'm going to—"
"I know. I've got you."
She fell apart with a cry, her whole body trembling, fingers digging into my back hard enough to leave marks.
I watched her face—the way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her lips parted, the way pleasure transformed her features into something sacred.
I'd never get used to this. Being the one who got to see her like this.
I followed her over the edge. The heat that had been building low in my spine crested and broke, and I buried my face in her neck as I found my own release, her arms tight around me, her voice in my ear whispering yes and I love you and don't stop.
We collapsed back onto the mattress, tangled together, both of us breathing hard. Her skin was damp against mine, her heart pounding where she pressed against my side.
"That was—" she started.
"Yeah."
"We should celebrate your accomplishments like this more often."
I laughed, pressed a kiss to her hair. "I'll start studying for my next certification tomorrow."
She swatted my chest. I caught her hand, brought it to my lips.
Watson chose that moment to yowl from outside the bedroom door, deeply offended at his exile.
"Someone's upset," Ava murmured.
"He'll get over it."
"Will he? He held a grudge against the vacuum cleaner for three weeks."
I pulled her closer, tangled my legs with hers. "Then he can add this to the list. I'm not moving."
The cat could wait. Everything else could wait.
Later, much later, we lay tangled in the sheets, sweaty and satisfied, city lights painting patterns on the ceiling.
"I have something for you," Ava said.
She slipped out of bed and crossed the room to her dresser. Came back with a small box.
I sat up, took it from her hands. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a stethoscope. High-quality, I could tell at a glance. The kind used in hospitals.
And engraved on the chest piece, in small, precise letters: Brian Torres, NRP, and today’s date.
My throat went tight. I turned the stethoscope over in my hands, ran my thumb across the engraving.
"For your first official shift," Ava said. Her voice was soft, uncertain, like she wasn’t sure how I’d react. "I know the department will give you one, but I wanted you to have something that's yours. Something that was—"
I pulled her back onto the bed, kissed her until neither of us remembered to breathe.
"I love you," I said against her lips. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." She was smiling, eyes bright. "Now put that somewhere safe. I'm not done celebrating."
That night, I lay in the dark, listening to Ava breathe, and let it all wash over me.
She was curled against me, her head on my shoulder.
Her breathing was slow and steady. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, painting silver stripes across the sheets and catching the angles of her face. She looked peaceful. Unguarded. Mine.
I let my mind drift to everything that had happened this week. The certification. The case was finally moving forward. Sloane’s article was out in the world, telling the truth about what happened to Derek Edwards. The Langs were facing justice. Ava, was safe and warm and here.
Carmen's voice used to find me in moments like this. Late nights. Quiet rooms. Whispering that I wasn't enough. That I'd never be enough. That someone like Ava would eventually see through me and leave, just like Carmen had.
But the voice was quiet now. Erased by months of Ava looking at me like I mattered.
Like saving lives meant something. Like I was exactly the man she wanted.
I pressed a kiss to the top of Ava's head. She stirred, murmured something unintelligible, and burrowed closer.
I'd wanted a lot of things in my life. The career. The family. The woman who made me believe I could be more.
Lying in that bed, Ava in my arms, my certification earned and her gift waiting on the nightstand, I realized I had all of it.
Everything I’d ever wanted.
I closed my eyes and let sleep pull me under, holding on.