When she finishes her rant, she stares hard at me.
I stare back at her.
“That’s nice of you to say,” I murmur.
“Well, I fucking mean it.” She huffs, leaning forward to rest her palm firmly on my knee. “Leo truly couldn’t ask for a better father, just like Station 47 couldn’t ask for a better EMT to haveon their crew. And Hartstringscouldn’t ask for a better person to represent what a hero truly is.”
For some reason, I chuckle.
Lila squeezes my knee. “What?”
“This might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said, but…” I shake my head. “Somehow, you’re even prettier when you’re angry.”
She pauses, pulling her hand away.
I replay what I said, internally cringing at how fucking stupid it was. Who the hell tells a woman that she’s more attractive when she’s pissed off? That doesn’t exactly send the right message.
To my surprise, though, Lila bursts out laughing.
“You boys.” She sighs. “You keep saying things that catch me off guard.”
“Sorry. That was dumb.”
“No. I’m flattered that you find me pretty, no matter my emotional state.”
I swallow, hyperaware of how alone we are right now. “I do.”
Lila grins. “You’re pretty, too.”
“Pardon?”
“Well, handsome is obviously a better word. Downright dashing, for sure, if I ever saw you in anything other than FDNY-branded sweats.”
Her playful makes my stomach swoop with a rush of need. “Dashing, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes. I’m only vaguely aware that I’m leaning in. And that she’s leaning in toward me, too.
This is exactly the thing I’mnotsupposed to do. Especially not here in the gym, where anyone could waltz right in.
But there’s something unraveling inside me, and the only way I can make any sense of it is by being closer to her.
I reach out, twisting a strand of hair that’s escaped from her bun around my finger. She bites her lip, drawing my gaze to what I want to taste.
Fuck it.
I move my hand to cradle the back her head and pull her toward me.
Our lips collide. She responds without hesitation, scooting closer on the bench until she’s sat beneath my spread thighs.
She tastes like mint toothpaste and candy-sweet lip gloss, and she opens her mouth in a silent wish for me to deepen the kiss.
Except, right as I’m about to press my tongue against hers, the alarms start blaring.
Just like that, duty calls.
Chapter fifteen
