“This was literally your idea,” he reminds me. “I just embellished it.”
It’s true. I knew I wanted Noah’s episode to include an impressive safety demonstration of sorts so that people couldsee him as more than a hunk who rescued a kitten from a tree. As in, he can rescue actual people, too. Very competently.
I had unshakeable faith in him… up until this moment.
So, I guess Iamafraid of heights.
“Hey,” he murmurs, moving closer. “You’re going to be fine. You’re with me.”
In the fading light, the details of his features have gone hazy at the edges. We haven’t turned the filming lights on yet, not wanting to waste electricity in an old building that, apparently, already has outdated wiring. When Noah informed us of that earlier and I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, he shrugged and said, “Well, if the wires blow up and spark a flame, it’ll just be another training exercise, won’t it?”
We definitely won’t be telling the public about that, though.
Noah’s brow furrows when I don’t respond. “You don’t trust me?”
There’s a note of genuine uncertainty in his voice that kind of makes me want to hug him. Noah is the sort of person who just wants people to like him. He wants to be a source of joy. Wants to be the cause of smiles and laughter, but also a reliable support beam.
And with half the public now lacking trust in him, he doesn’t need me adding to the backlash.
“I trust you,” I promise.
And maybe it’s just the shadows, but I think Noah’s eyes might drop down to my lips when I say that.
“Alright, we’re ready to turn those lights on!” shouts Jake from a few yards away.
I lift my hand in a thumbs-up, squint my eyes in preparation, and then there’s a flood of bright light washing over us. Automatically, I take a step back from Noah until there’s an appropriate amount of distance between us.
Shielding my gaze, I spot Lou hovering behind Jake and his assistant, who is fussing with the extension cord we dragged all the way up here. I really hope the wiring obeys.
Lou is watching me, though, and I don’t need to see my best friend clearly to know that she’s smirking.
“Quite the conundrum,” she crooned earlier. “Three hot firemen want to do the nasty with you. How will you ever endure?”
“None of them want to ‘do the nasty with me,’” I tried to argue.
Which is true. Hale wants to kiss me, yes, and he did say something about getting on his knees… but it’s clear that he hasno intention of acting on those desires again. And Evan is too chivalrous and well-behaved to break his union’s rules for my sake.
As for Noah, he flirts with everyone. I’m not convinced his winks, playful nicknames, and appreciative glances make me special.
Which is fine. Totally fine. Romance is the least important thing for me to be worrying about right now.
“Alright, guys, are we ready?” Jake announces.
“Ready!” Noah and I shout back in unison.
“In three, two, one—action!”
I plaster on my PR smile, brush aside all my fear, and focus on what’s important: doing a good job so that Noah can do a good job. This is supposed to fix his reputation and save Station 47, thus boosting Hartstrings to another level.
I’ve got to keep my eye on the prize.
“Hi everyone!” I chirp. “I’m Lila Hart with Hartstrings Public Relations, here with Lieutenant Noah Trent, who is about to show us how firefighters perform high-angle rescue when the lower floors of a burning building are unsafe to navigate.”
The best part about this episode is the fact that Noah, unlike stoic Hale and reserved Evan, is a natural in front of the camera. He jumps right in without needing to be encouraged.
“That’s right, Lila.” He offers a playful salute to the camera lens. “When fire or debris cut off exit routes, or when the fire has spread too fast and has compromised the overall structure, we often scale up to those trapped at the top and rappel them down. We train hard so that it’s a quick, efficient process.”
“And he’s about to show everyone exactly how it’s done,” I add, gesturing to the harness strapped around my hips and thighs. At least I was able to wear comfortable leggings for this shoot.
