Page 9 of Curvy Girl and the Firefighter Chief

"No?" His eyebrow raises. "What would you have taken me for?"

"I don't know. Chopping wood shirtless in the forest, maybe? Rescuing wildlife? Something appropriately rugged and heroic."

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Oh, I'm not disappointed at all," I say before I can stop myself, then feel heat rush to my cheeks.

Chapter 5 - Luke

I know I should leave. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to get up and walk out that door. Instead, I'm sitting here on the edge of her bed, watching her eat soup, completely mesmerized by how her lips curve around the spoon.

The soft evening light filtering through the window makes her skin glow, and somehow, even in oversized station clothes with her hair mussed from sleep, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Goddamn it. I've run into burning buildings thousands of times. I know what it feels like when the heat hits you, when your body temperature rises with adrenaline. But this?

This is different. This heat starts deep in my chest and spreads through my entire body whenever she looks at me with those green eyes.

"Since you asked about me," I hear myself say, desperate to distract myself from these dangerous thoughts, "tell me something about you. Anything."

She sets down the soup bowl, and something vulnerable crosses her face.

"Something about me?" She bites her lower lip, considering. "How about something I've never told anyone else?"

My heart rate kicks up a notch. "I'm listening."

"Everyone always asks why I became an illustrator," she starts, fidgeting with the hem of her borrowed shirt. "I tell them I love to draw, which is true, but it's not the whole truth."

I stay quiet, sensing she needs space to continue.

"I was bullied pretty badly growing up," she says softly. "For being curvy, for not fitting into their idea of what a girl should look like. By high school, I just wanted a career where I wouldn't have to deal with people face-to-face. Where I could... hide."

Something protective and angry rises in my chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I don't know. Maybe nearly dying makes you want to pour everything out. Maybe..." she pauses, "maybe I feel safe with you."

"You are safe," I say firmly, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms. "And for what it's worth, those people were idiots. You're gorgeous, Stella. You should be out there living life, not hiding from it. Trust me, the real world differs greatly from high school and college."

A small, sad smile crosses her face. "Oh? Adults can't be bullies?"

"They can be," I admit, "but now you've got me, and I'll personally kick the ass of anyone who insults you."

That draws a genuine laugh from her. "Even if they're women?"

I throw my hands up in mock surrender. "Now you're just trying to get me in trouble. I can't win here."

We both laugh, and the sound of her happiness does something to my chest that I try not to examine too closely.

"You know what?" I find myself saying, "I usually don't tell people this, but when I first started as a firefighter, I was absolutely terrified."

Her eyes widen. "You? But you're so... confident."

I snort. "Now, maybe. But back then? I was shitting bricks every time the alarm went off. My dad and grandfather were bothdecorated Pine Valley firefighters. The pressure to live up to that legacy was crushing. I couldn't tell anyone how scared I was of failing."

"Well," she says softly, reaching out to touch my hand, "from where I'm sitting, you've more than lived up to any legacy. You're an incredible firefighter, Luke."

"How would you know? You were unconscious for most of my heroics."

---