Page 24 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

The rubbing was gentle, as if he didn’t want it to hurt.

His voice was soft, patient. “You don’t have to apologize or pretend. Not with me.” He held me in the protective circle of his arms.

“Maybe my nerves are a little frayed,” I admitted. My gaze darted up to his. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’ve got you.” His voice was warm and firm.

I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken out loud, but I was glad I had. Exhaling again, I calmed a little.

“Focus on my voice, wiggle your toes. Try and just be in the moment,” Smack spoke softly to me. “Breathe.”

I breathed.

Once I’d calmed, Smack wrapped a wet blanket around me. It helped. After a minute, he pulled me close. In the embrace of his arm, the last dredges of my shakiness were fading.

“I’m getting you wet,” I wheezed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” The words rumbled beneath my cheek. I felt his chest rising with mine, breathing with me.

The fire snaked away, turning and twisting. We’d have to try and catch it again. But I felt oddly okay. Safe. After a moment, I asked, “How is the ankle? Can you walk?”

He nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I could trust him to admit any pain. I supported him as we stood, and with his arm around me, we headed back to the truck.

“Another team is coming.”

We didn’t speak much as the team replacing us arrived and we got checked out by the medics. Smack and I were cleared for any smoke inhalation. His ankle was already less swollen. The EMT gave me a prescription for my panic attack, which was lessening, too.

We drove to base camp. Embers fell like black snowflakes all the way back. Smack pulled into the parking lot near the communal showers. We walked silently to them, and I sat on the bench to remove my boots.

“Need a hand?”

“I got it.” I turned away, embarrassed and also weak-kneed. Smack had the sore ankle, yet he’d driven and was askingmeif I needed help. Shame clung to me that I wasn’t okay. I still needed time to recover from my anxiety. My skin prickled. The scars sometimes felt this way, like my skin itched to shed them. A reminder of why touch for me was complicated, not simple.

I scurried ahead of him into the showers.

My teeth chattering, I turned on the faucet and prayed Smack wouldn’t follow me. I couldn’t handle him naked beside me. That would be too much. The idea of Smack undressing and getting naked under the water made me feel disturbed and light-headed all at once. How would he look with the water cascading over his strong frame?Fucking hell…I could not stop having these thoughts.

The water was lukewarm, but it helped me shed some of my shock. I let some tears go. The spray washed them away, and I wished they could take the experience with them. I toweled off and redressed, feeling refreshed.

When I stepped outside the showers, Smack was waiting for me. He pushed away from the wall and stood before me. “Better?”

“Yeah.” I gave an awkward laugh. “I’m okay. Really.”

“I’m not.” He cracked a smile. “I was fucking afraid. And I haven’t even thanked you for saving my ass.”

“Welcome.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “And thankyoufor not judging me when I lost my shit back there.”

“Welcome,” Smack echoed my words.

“I guess…being afraid goes with the job.”

Smack nodded. “We wouldn’t be human otherwise.”

His face went all gentle, his eyes soft.

And then I was hugging him, somehow, and Smack hugged me back. His arms wrapped around me in a squeeze. And he felt very, fucking human to me.

“Being here is a struggle,” I admitted in a low voice. “I’m not sure why it’s triggering me, but today when you were in danger, and the relief it turned out okay… Some fires don’t bother me at all, but others… I’m working on it, though. I’m still in therapy, I do yoga twice a month, I journal.”

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