Page 34 of Controlled Burn
"I know."
"People are watching."
"I know."
"But I still want to kiss you right now."
His breath caught.
He leaned in—just enough for their shoulders to touch. "I dreamt about your mouth last night.
She smiled. "You dream a lot?"
"Only about you."
She laughed under her breath. Then stepped closer, enough that her body brushed his front.
"You need to get out of here," she whispered.
His voice was rough. "Yeah. I really fucking do."
But he didn't move.
Not for another ten seconds.
Talia
Later that night, she lay in her bunk, heart racing from what almost happened. What kept almost happening.
Kennedy was just across the room, murmuring into her phone—another bedtime call home, a litany of goodnight prayers and "I love you"s that made Talia ache with something like envy.
Ryan's quiet breathing filled the bunk beside hers.
But all she could think about was Jake's threat, Brooks's stare, and the fact that Maddox's voice was still echoing in her head.
The problem wasn't that she wanted him. The problem was that she didn't know how long she could keep pretending she didn't.
The soft creak of the station settling, the hum of night shift stillness—it all felt like a pressure cooker.
She turned toward the wall, trying not to think about the fact that Ryan was safe. Jake was a threat. Brooks was a shadow. And Dean… Dean was fire. Not the kind you ran from. The kind you ran toward—even when it meant getting burned.
The firehouse walls were thin. The danger was real. Jake wasn't the only one watching.
But the thought of Dean's mouth on her skin, his breath in her ear, his hands sliding—
She bit her lip. Hard.
This wasn't sustainable. They were running out of quiet corners. Out of excuses. Out of time.
And she didn't know which would burn first: the secret they were keeping… or the woman holding it.
Chapter 14
Under Pressure
Talia
By the time Talia stepped into the bay, the morning drill was already in full swing. Her towel clung to her shoulders, PT sweat cooling on her spine—but the air was hotter now, thick with diesel, competition, and the kind of pressure that never stayed on the drill floor.
