“One… two… three,” I say, and we move as a unit.
Our hands brush while securing her head. The brief contact jolts me.
Axel stills for half a second, jaw flexing once, but his voice stays steady as he says, “I’ve got her.”
We extricate the patient together, load her into the back of the ambulance, and I hook her up to the monitor while Axel starts an IV line.
His fingers hover close to mine more than once, like his body can’t help but gravitate the same way it used to.
We’ve always worked like this.
Like instinct.
Like breathing.
Like something in us recognizes the other before thought even catches up.
When the patient is stabilized, Axel pulls the doors shut behind us, his breath clouding the cold air.
For a moment, it’s just him and me and the echoes of a decade that never really left.
He wipes sweat and melted snow from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Good work.”
“You too.”
Silence charges the small space between us.
His gaze drags over me—not inappropriate, but intense enough that my skin heats. He doesn’t hide the way he looks at me.
He never did.
But now there’s something heavier in his stare. Something restrained. Something raw.
I break eye contact before it cages me. “We should get her to the hospital.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice husky. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
The drive is quiet, but not calm. Not with the air so thick it’s hard to inhale without feeling like his presence is creeping under my skin.
We deliver the patient, file the report, and head back to the station.
The second we walk inside, the teasing begins.
Torres grins like a wolf. “Look at that teamwork. Like nothing’s changed.”
Axel ignores him. Barely.
Blake whistles. “Man, if I had an ex who worked that smooth with me, I’d marry her out of pure efficiency.”
I choke on my own saliva.
Axel shoots him a deadly look. “Back off.”
“Touchy,” Blake laughs. “Just saying, the tension in that rig could’ve boiled water.”
My face burns.
Axel looks like he wants to throttle someone.
