Page 19 of Messy Match

Off to the side, my brother’s arm tightens around his new wife’s waist as she beams up at him.

“The thing about being a firefighter,” Jake continues, his voice taking on a deeper note, “is that we’re trained to recognize danger. To assess risk. To protect at all costs.” His eyes findmine across the room. “But sometimes, the biggest risk in our profession isn’t running into a burning building. Sometimes, it’s letting down your guard. Admitting your feelings. Realizing true love means knowing when to let someone in, to invite them to stand beside you.” Jake’s gaze holds mine, the weight of his words settling deep in my chest as a server passes with champagne for the toast. I pluck a flute from the tray.

“Brock and Libby might not have had the smoothest start to their relationship,” he continues, earning a few chuckles from those in the room who know the story, “but the two of them understand this better than anyone. Their love isn’t about one person saving the other. It’s about choosing each other every day. Supporting each other’s dreams while building new ones together.” Jake raises his glass. “To the happy couple.”

The room erupts in applause and cheers. I lift my glass with everyone else, the bubbles tickling my nose as I take a sip. For the first time in two years, the taste doesn’t remind me of weakness or fear. It tastes like celebration. Like new beginnings.

Jake watches me as he hands off the mic. Without missing a beat, he makes his way through the crowd with purposeful strides. My pulse quickens with each step he takes. When he reaches me, he doesn’t hesitate. His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that makes my knees weak.

“Jake—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Are you drinking champagne again?”

“It would appear that way.”

“Does that mean—” he starts, but I cut him off, pressing my lips to his.

It’s a beat before he deepens the kiss so much it steals my breath and probably breaks several public decency laws. His other hand splays across my back, pulling me flush against him as his mouth moves over mine with passionate intent. Thechampagne flute dangles forgotten from my fingers as I grip his lapel with my free hand.

Mack’s piercing whistles cuts through the din of the crowd, and Maya’s delighted laugh rings in my ear, but I can’t focus on anything except the way Jake is kissing me as if he’s making up for two years of holding back. And I’m here for it.

When we finally break apart, his forehead rests against mine once more. “I’m done pretending,” he says, voice rough. “I’m done watching you from across rooms and fighting what I feel. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

“Even though I’m stubborn and independent and don’t need saving?” I challenge.

His smile is soft, intimate. “Exactly because you’re all of those things.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “Although, for the record, that night at the bar, I didn’t intervene because I thought you needed saving. I couldn’t help but step because I was already falling for you, hard, and the thought of another man stealing you away drove me insane. Still does.”

Tears prick at my eyes as everything slots into place. All this time, I thought his protective instincts were about seeing me as weak. But they were about seeing me, and falling for me, from the beginning.

“I’ll have you,” I whisper, the words falling from my lips. “I’m yours.”

Joy blazes across his face, but then he sobers, his hand tightening on my waist. “Even knowing I’ll always rescue you, no matter what?”

I smile, sliding my arms around his neck. “I can’t promise I won’t fight you on it sometimes, but I’m starting to see the appeal of…having backup.”

“I’ll take it,” he chuckles and steals another quick kiss. “Though, I have to warn you, now that I can freely kiss you whenever I want, I plan to do it often.”

“I hope so.” From the corner of my eye, I catch my mom beaming at us from across the room while my stepdad wraps an arm around her shoulders with a knowing smile.

But it’s the couples on the dance floor I can’t help but watch. Mack and Maya swaying so close they’re practically one person. His gigantic frame is curved protectively around her petite one. Levi pressing a tender kiss to Zoe’s temple as she smiles at whatever he’s whispering in her ear. And Brock and Libby, lost in their own world of newlywed bliss. I’ve watched them all, the men falling hard while each strong woman chose to share her life with someone who appreciates her exactly as she is. Now, wrapped in Jake’s arms, with his heartbeat steady against my palm, I finally understand. For the first time, I don’t feel like the defensive single girl, fighting to prove herself. I feel as if I belong.

Jake’s hand finds mine, fingers intertwining as if they were made to fit together. “Dance with me?”

I squeeze his hand, my heart so full it might burst. “Yes.”

As Jake leads me to the dance floor, my brother catches my eye and gives me a slight nod that says more than words ever could. And I realize, sometimes, the best kind of rescue isn’t being saved from danger. Sometimes, it’s being saved from yourself by someone who wants to protect you, not because you need it, but because he needs you.

Epilogue | Jake

IarriveatTheDailyGrind only a minute before I told Charlotte I’d be here to pick her up. I’m cutting it close, thanks to a late call, but I’m lucky to be here now, even though I had to rush over straight from the station. The streets are already buzzing with New Year’s Eve energy despite the early hour. Tourists in their celebratory hats and oversized dated glasses crowd the sidewalks, eager to secure spots for the night’s festivities. I’m grateful our plan is a quiet dinner at Mack and Maya’s place even if Mack's on shift tonight. Levi and Zoe, as well as Brock and Libby will be there, too, to watch the ball drop on TV. Much better than being crushed and freezing our asses off in Times Square like we might have been in our younger days.

Through the frosted window I catch sight of Charlotte, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail, as she tugs off her apron. My breath fogs in the winter air, but I don’t mind the cold. The chill is welcome after a long shift of drills and the small kitchen fire we handled just now. Plus, the sight of Charlotte’s effortlessgrace and unmatched beauty never gets old. She laughs at something Amber or Nora says, and I can’t help but smile, too.

It’s been six months since that weekend in Vermont when everything changed. Six months of waking up to her warm body curled against mine. Six months of coffee deliveries that actually contain my standing order. Six months of letting her fight her own battles while still being there to back her up when she needs it. Six months of double dates with Brock and Libby, who can’t stop taking credit for the fact their wedding was the catalyst that finally pushed Charlotte and me together after two years.

And now, here we are, back at New Year’s Eve, although everything is different now.

The glass in the front window reflects my crew cut and well-wornTaming of the Drewsweatshirt. Charlotte’s been starring as Kate for the past three months in the off-Broadway parody that’s been collecting rave reviews from every critic in the city. She told me just the other day there are rumors of extending the run through the summer. I’ve seen the show at least a dozen times myself. So many times that the crew at the station gives me endless shit about how whipped I am, but I don’t care. Watching my girlfriend do what she loves while commanding a stage, all fierce intelligence and sharp wit, is worth it, even if it means a night with friends, like we have tonight, is rare.

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