Page 89 of Stuck with my Brother's Firefighter Besties

The warmth in his voice, in all of their voices, settled something deep inside me. For the first time since opening the package, I didn’t feel completely untethered.

But the fear still lingered.

“What if this ruins everything?” I asked quietly.

Ryan kneeled in front of me, his green eyes steady and sure. “It won’t,” he said firmly.

“But what if it does?” I pressed. “The town… gossip spreads like wildfire here. If this gets out…”

“Then let it,” Jaxon said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “We’ll deal with it. Together.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said, my throat tightening. “I worked with you guys on the calendar. People are going to think… they’re going to think I was mixing work with… with whatever this is.”

Colt sat down beside me, his hand on my knee. “Let them think what they want. We know the truth, and that’s what matters.”

“You’re not some scandal, Lila,” Ryan said, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re the woman we care about. The woman we’re willing to fight for. If people can’t see that, it’s their problem, not yours.”

I looked between them, my heart twisting at the intensity in their eyes. They weren’t just saying the words to make me feel better. They meant them.

Jaxon leaned against the back of the couch, his piercing blue eyes locked on mine. “You’ve been through hell and back, Lila. Don’t let some coward with a camera take away what makes you happy.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Because he was right.

I’d spent so much of my life letting other people’s opinions dictate my choices, my happiness. But here, with them, I didn’t have to do that anymore.

I wasn’t sure how we were going to fix this, but for the first time in hours, I felt like we actually could.

Because I wasn’t alone.

I had them.

And maybe that was enough.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Ryan

The photos were spreadout on my kitchen table.

Black and white, a few in color.

Grainy.

Whoever took them didn’t care about art. They cared about causing pain.

Lila sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Jaxon had thrown over her shoulders. Colt sat next to her, his arm draped protectively across the back of the couch. Jaxon leaned against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Me? I was focused.

The notes were short. Messy handwriting. Words meant to scare.

“Does Nate know?”

“How do you think this will look to the town?”

“You can’t hide forever.”

Bullshit. All of it.

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