Page 127 of Hot Shot

He only breaks it to look at me, setting my feet back on the ground. His eyes never leave mine, soot-stained cheeks streaked. “I should have told you before. But I…I didn’t want to lose you because I was ready and you weren’t. But when I was in that house alone, with no way to save myself, my only regret was not making sure you knew how much I love you. I always have. I will until I’m in the fucking ground, Cassidy.”

I can’t see for my tears, my chest a shredded mess at the site where my heart once was. I whisper I love yous between kisses until there’s no more room for words.

The certainty of Wilder was inevitable from the start. I knew he was the end game when I was thirteen, and every day since. All that time I spent without him, I was only playing pretend.

This is the truest, most real I have ever felt.

When our lips part, he presses his forehead to mine. “Let’s go home.”

Backing away, I sniffle and nod and take his hand, never letting it go as we make our way around the crew. When I throw myself at Tate, blubbering my thanks, he rubs my back, giving me a tired, relieved, sooty smile and saysAnytime, like it’s just another day at the office. But he hangs onto me just as tight so I know better. The next shift just came on and they’re working their way around the remains of the house to make sure there’s no lingering fire in the walls or elsewhere.

It’s not long before we’re in my truck and on our way. It’s strange to be driving him instead of the other way around, but he walked straight up to the passenger door with his gear, threw it in the back, and climbed in. It was the only time our hands broke contact, and the second I was seated next to him, our fingers were entwined again. Neither of us speaks beyond me asking if he wanted to get his truck from the station and him flatly refusing.

The house is quiet and still, the shadows still prominent despite the sky being the color of a creamsicle. As I peel off his coat, he glances at me, the corner of his lips rising a tick when he notices my rain boots. A little sound of amusement puffs out of his nose, but he says nothing, passing me to walk to our room.

When my boots are standing against the wall beneath his hanging jacket, I pad through the kitchen and into the bedroom. The shadow of his body is backlit by the window as he pulls off his tee, the creamy orange sunlight brighter here. I watch him undress without intention as I slip into our bed, still messy from my hasty exit. The simple act of him toeing off his boots strikes a feeling I can’t name. Some amalgamation of familiarity and gratitude and fortune that I know him. That he’s mine. That he’s here, and we found our way back to each other.

It’s fierce enough to hurt. Tears prick my eyes again.

He’s naked, sooty clothes in one hand and underwear in the other, striding to my side of the bed to kiss me.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

I nod. For a long moment, he looks at me like I might disappear. A soft smile flickers across his face before he walks away to put his clothes in the laundry room so everything on this side of the house doesn’t smell like smoke within the hour. He leaves the bathroom door open while he showers, and I take a minute to breathe, change, wash the soot off my face and arms, tidy the bedroom up a little, and close the blackout curtains. I’m somehow both wired and exhausted, despite having slept. Who knows if I can actually sleep, but the thought of being anywhere but here with him makes my stomach churn.

I’m back in bed and texting with Patty when he finishes, letting them know a little about what happened and confirming they’ll bring Cricket back later than usual. When he clicks off the bathroom light and walks in, I set my phone down, chest aching at the sight of him, haunted and heavy. He slides into bed from the foot, stretched out on top of the covers to rest his head in my lap. Strong arms thread around my waist, the weight of his chest against my thighs pressing me into the mattress.

Dark, angry bruises already cover his back where he’d been crushed by his pack under the weight of debris, the rest of him mercifully intact. I want to hold him with strange desperation, but stroke his damp hair with one hand instead, the other resting on the flat of his upper arm where it’s fanned out against my hip.

The room is silent, and I’m perfectly content like this, with my fingers in Wilder’s hair and his heartbeat thumping steadily against my thigh. His breathing slows after a while, and I convince myself he’s asleep. But he isn’t. He’s trying to find words.

“I was so scared.” It’s almost a whisper, his voice raspy and hoarse. The circle of his arms grows smaller. “I’ve never been so fucking scared.”

I let the silence be what it is, tracing the line of his profile with my gaze as I continue combing my fingers through his hair.

“I’ve seen shit,” he says after some time. “I’ve seen things that will haunt me. I’ve had moments I was sure my number was punched. But nothing like this. I couldn’t get out. There was an iron tub weighing down the beams—it exploded out of the ceiling. If I’d been six feet back…” He doesn’t have to finish. Briefly, his eyes close, and he nuzzles my leg. “Our packs were going off—those things make a fucking sickening sound, Cass. A jackhammer that doesn’t quit, the alarm chirping. It’s bad enough under normal circumstances, but being trapped with encroaching fire…” A long sigh. “They should have left me the second we realized they couldn’t move the tub. I should have made them go. None of us were thinking. I didn’t even ask for the hose… it’d been knocked too far out of the way to reach. So I just had to lay there and wait. And all I could think about was you.”

Tears threaten again. My fingers slide through his hair steadily.

“When I ran out of air, I took off my regulator and prayed there was air on the ground. And I thought that was it. I filled myself up on the thought that I got to love you, that I found you again.”

The threat of tears became a promise, sliding hot and heavy down my cheeks.

“Going through all that before you would have been fucking scary. I’d have been shaken up and fucked up and traumatized, I’m sure. But now? Now I have too much to lose.” The words waver. “I was afraid in a way I’ve never felt—this time, I wouldn’t just lose my life. I’d lose Cricket. I’d lose you.” His arms ease, and he rises to his elbows where they bracket my thighs, his eyes meeting mine. “Losing you became my reason. Or maybe it was my reason all along.”

I cup his jaw, the stubble rough against my palm as tears race down my cheeks.

His face softens. “Babe, don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to thumb away a tear.

A muffled little laugh slips out of me, matched by his small smile, softening as I blubber. “I can’t help it—you just said all of that and I love you so much, Wilder. I loved you before, but it’s never…it was n-never like this, and you could havediedin there today.” I press my forehead to his, my eyes clamped shut. “Don’t leave me here without you. I j-just found you again and I-I can’t lose you now.”

His hand cups my neck, guiding me closer. “I’m not going anywhere.” Our lips brush. “I will never leave you.” He kisses a cool streak on my cheek. “I love you,” he whispers into my mouth before taking it.

And I give it freely. Every breath is thick with him, every sweep of tongues and latch of lips a promise. Gripping my neck, he deepens the kiss, pouring himself into me, and I become a vessel for his love. But this time, I’m not empty because I’m his.

I’m filled to the brim because I’m his.

With his hand, he hooks my closest knee, shifting us both until he’s settled between my thighs, rising just long enough to grab my hips and pull me toward him. I revel in the feel of his callused hands. The crisp scent of him, the solid weight of him, real and warm and alive. I slide onto my back, reaching for him, and he fills my waiting arms, meets my longing lips, pins my hips to the bed with his. His forearm is deep in the mattress, his free hand skating across my breasts and nipples through my shirt, sending a web of electricity zinging from the tight peaks.

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