Page 56 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
They lock onto mine, steady and sharp, and I see she’s trying to sift through all the pieces, figure out what the hell just happened, and why I look like a man drowning in plain sight.
The worst part?
I can’t even tell if it’s anger or relief with the way my pulse spikes when she gasps, sharp and breathless, as though I’ve crossed a line she didn’t think I had in me.
Her eyes blaze, cheeks flushed, but not from the dance.From me.
She shoves at my chest, the contact more personal than any punch, her voice sharp enough to cut clean through the noise.
“You’ve got some nerve, Noah,” she snaps, pushing past me without waiting for a reply.
I follow because I can’t not. My legs move before my brain can catch up, driven by the same reckless, clawing need that’s been eating at me for five straight days.
Chapter fifteen
Kate
Ican’t believe him.
Who the hell does he think he is?
Ignoring me for days, then stepping in like I'm his to claim?
I push myself to move faster, the night air brushing against my skin, and my heels scrape against the gravel unevenly, matching the staccato thud of my heart rate. I don’t even look back. I can’t. If I do, I’ll fall apart.
But I feel him.
I know he’s following me. His presence clings like the charge in the air before a storm. I’m nearly to the parking lot when his voice cuts through the dark.
“Kate—”
I spin, the words already burning the back of my throat before he can finish.
“What gives you the right to do that?” My voice cracks on the edges, but I hold it steady, even as my heart threatens to cave in on itself. “You left without a word. Five days, Noah. You usedme and disappeared. And I told myself it was fine. That I could handle it.”
I blink hard because the tears are right there, perched on the edge, and I’ll be damned if I let him see them fall. “But you don’t get to show up tonight acting like you get to make decisions for me. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to be with me either?”
I expect him to fight back. But he just stands there, his chest rising hard as if every breath is a struggle. And for once, I see it.
There is a crack in his armor. The guilt, the regret, the same ache that’s been clawing at me all week, mirrored right there on his face.
I should leave the same way he did.
I turn and take a step. But his hand finds mine; warm, rough, grounding, and the second he pulls me back to him and against his chest, everything inside me shatters.
His mouth is on mine before I can think, before I can even breathe. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s fierce. Desperate. As though five days of silence have amounted to something bigger, neither of us can name. It poured into the silence that had built between us like a wall.
My hands flatten against his chest, warmth radiating through his shirt and into my bones. I should push him away. I should remind him that this isn’t fair.
But I don’t. I fist the front of his shirt and hold on to the only solid thing in the world that won’t stop spinning.
The kiss deepens, his hands anchoring me, sliding along my waist and my back, pulling me closer until there isn’t an inch of space left between us. His touch is rough and unsteady, as though he doesn’t trust himself not to fall apart, as if he’s already falling.
Anyone can see us in the lot, but I don’t care. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, breath warm and ragged against my lips.
“I’m sorry, Kate. Come home with me.” His voice is quiet, stripped bare. “Let me take you home. I can explain.”
God, I want to. My heart claws at the walls I’ve built, begging for me to say yes. But Parker’s face flashes behind my eyes, his small, sleepy smile waiting for me to tuck him in.
