Page 8 of Jump

“Whoever she is,” Ana continues, “wherever she is. Would she say nice things about you? Or would she warn me to sprint back inside that hotel and get away from you?”

A low, rumbling chuckle tickles my throat as I think back to the feisty firefighter who captured my heart once upon a time. She was the only female on her crew, which means she learned long ago to hold her own.

The real answer, I think, is that she’d pick a fight with Ana, purely to exert her dominance. It’s who she was.

“She’d probably say I was an asshole,” I admit. “She’d say I’m crass and often lacking in sensitivity. I forget the finer things, like anniversaries and feelings. But I remember the big stuff.”

Walking, meandering, Ana considers my words, and glances across at me as we emerge from the other side of the garden and start across the large expanse of lawn. “Big stuff like what?”

“Like loyalty. Honesty. Protection. If you were to get to know me outside of tonight, when we’re using real names and being accountable to the real world, you’d probably think I’m a dog. Not the cute puppy kind, but the mongrel sort who lacks finesse and could do with some classes in manners. I’d undoubtedly forget your birthday, but if you needed help…” I bring my hand up and scrub it across my stubbled jaw. “I’d be there, no matter what.”

“November twenty-ninth.”

She waits for my eyes and locks in when they meet her bright blue ones. Bright blue, but with little specks of gold that match her gown, even in the darkness.

When my brows pinch tight in curiosity, she grins. “That’s my birthday. So although I don’t intend to see you again after tonight, and even though telling you this violates my anonymity, now you know that November twenty-ninth is my birthday. So wherever you are, whatever life has got lined up for you—maybe you’ll be sitting in a coffee shop or something, minding your business, and the person next to you will mention the date.” Her perfect bow lips stretch into a gorgeous smile. “You’ll think of me. I turn twenty-five this year.”

“Well, shit.” I reach out for her hand and continue our trek toward… I don’t know. Somewhere. “I kinda wanna put it in my calendar, so my phone bleats and reminds me. But I feel like you told me because you want my brain to remember, not a computer.”

“That’s right.”

She slows her steps and reaches down to bunch the skirt of her dress in her hand as we approach the edge of the block and prepare to cross. Looking left, then right so I glimpse her masked face, she smirks and starts into the street, where there are exactly… three cars, for as far as my eyes can see.

“When’s your birthday?” she asks.

“Wow.” I hold her hand tight and laugh as we step up on the other side of the street. “We only just met, Ana. You’re asking for a lot right now.”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. But like clockwork, her exposed skin warms and her mask shifts when her cheeks lift. “Don’t answer me then, I don’t care.”

“Fuck you don’t.” I tug her a little closer, until her shoulder wedges beneath mine. Because I just know she’ll run away at the first hint of rejection. “You care, Ana. You care so much, you’re already planning what gift to send me.”

“Sure I am. But you might not like what I choose.” She glances up and smirks. “A box of dog crap would be fun.”

“Dog shit, churned from a mongrel dog’s bowels and shat out while you were creating anarchy and all that. Got it.” Brave, though I have no clue where it comes from, I swing my arm over her shoulders and turn her face so she has no choice but to look up at me.

Her eyes glitter with nerves, and her pouty lips droop and demand my attention. So close. So kissable.

But I don’t close the space between us. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Instead, I hold her gaze and remain silent until nerves get the better of her and the warmth in her cheeks grows hotter. “Jump, I don’t—”

“You can call me Matt,” I murmur.

But as though my words are fiery daggers, she startles under my arm.

“What?” Panicked, she spins out of my hold and takes a full six feet of distance. “No! You’re ruining the anonymous thing!

“My name is Matt.” I take a step forward, only to pause when she steals back that space and takes another step away. “My birthday is, well… today.”

“Stop it!” With a disappointed shake of her head, she turns on her heels and starts away. “You ruined it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything.”

I chase after her and snatch her hand before she can charge onto the street. Yanking her around, I swallow her gust of breath when it races from her lungs and into mine.

“Matt is a super bland name,” I point out, “so you still don’t know who I am. And today’s my birthday, but no one else in town knows that either. Anonymity remains intact.”

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