The weight of their attention pressed against her skin, but she didn't care.
Jake had no right to do this. To fix things behind her back. To decide what she needed. To play hero after destroying her life.
She shoved him again.
This time, he caught her wrists.
The shift was instant. One second, she was full of fury—the next, her pulse was hammering beneath his grip.
Jake's fingers were warm, too warm, too familiar.
For a second—one unbearable second—she was back in his arms, his touch ghosting over her skin, lips brushing hers in the kind of kiss that turned her world upside down.
And then she remembered.
The betrayal. The lies. The fact that he had never really been hers at all.
Hannah tore her hands free, shoving him off so hard he took a half-step back.
"Stop trying to fix me, Jake."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not?—"
"I don't want your money." Her voice shook, but she didn't care. "I don't want your help. I don't want you."
Something in his expression fractured.
For a moment, she thought—hoped—he might say something. Might fight back.
But he didn't.
Because Jake Cooper only fought when it was his job.
She turned on her heel, shoving past Roberts, past Peterson, past the dozens of eyes burning into her skin.
By the time she hit the firehouse door, her hands were trembling.
But she didn't look back.
CHAPTER 21
Jake
Jake stood frozen,Hannah's words still hanging in the air like smoke from a backdraft.
I don't want you.
His chest felt hollow. She had meant it.
Around him, the firehouse was dead silent. He felt the stares of his crew, felt their curiosity, their unease. But he couldn't move.
Couldn't chase after her.
Couldn't force her to understand that helping her wasn't about fixing things—it was about giving her a goddamn chance to stand on her own.
Peterson cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, uh… I'm guessing that didn't go well."
Jake let out a slow, measured breath, clenching his fists at his sides. "Not now, Pete."
