“No,” I say honestly.“But let’s go anyway.”
He grins.
We walk out together, me in borrowed hospital sweats and a hoodie from the lost-and-found, him carrying the weight of what’s left of my old life in one hand and the promise of something new in the other.
As the automatic doors whoosh open and cool air kisses my skin, I realize something startling.Yesterday, fire tried to take everything from me again.Today, a firefighter showed up and refused to let it.
And for the first time in a long, long time ...I don’t feel alone.I feel scorched and alive.
Chapter Four
Fireman With A Hero Complex
Darren
Olivia walks like someone who’s expecting the ground to give way.
Careful.Braced.Shoulders tight and chin up like she’s daring the world to take another swing while also apologizing for taking up space on the sidewalk at the same time.
I hate that.Not her, never her, but that the world made her move like that.
“Slow down,” I say quietly, even though I’m the one matching her pace.“You don’t have to rush.”
She snorts.“I’m in hospital-issue socks.I’m not rushing anywhere unless it’s to fall on my face.”
There it is again, humor as armor.I get it.I respect it.I still want to take it off her piece by piece until she doesn’t need it anymore.The automatic doors sigh open.Cold air hits us and she shivers instinctively.I want to wrap myself around her like a jacket.I don’t.Barely.
“Which one’s yours?”she asks.
I point to the old black truck parked a few spaces down.It’s got some rust on the wheel wells, paint faded in spots, but the engine still purrs because I spend more time on it than I do on my own sleep.She eyes it and smiles a little.
“Of course you drive a truck.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”I ask, grinning.
She waves her hand vaguely at me.“Big.Capable.Looks like it could haul me and half my problems without breaking a sweat.”
