Brian answered. He was good. Better than I expected. He'd been studying already, I could tell. I watched the furrow between his brows when he concentrated, the way his hands moved as he worked through a problem. The flash of triumph when he got something right.
He was going to be a great paramedic. I was certain.
Something shifted in me. Pride. Maybe something more dangerous.
"Not bad, Torres." I handed back the notebook.
"High praise from you. I'm honored."
"Don't let it go to your head."
He grinned at me. That easy, open grin that made me feel like I was standing in sunlight after a long winter.
I looked away first.
The sun was fully up now. I needed to sleep. He had a shift in a few hours. But neither of us moved.
Watson had settled on the threshold of the balcony door, watching us with those sharp yellow eyes, tail swishing contentedly.
"He looks pleased with himself," Brian said.
"He's always pleased with himself. He has an inflated sense of his own importance."
"Wonder where he gets that from."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." But he was still grinning. "You know, he looks threatening, but he's actually very loving. Takes after someone."
"I'm not loving."
"Sure, you're not. You just spent twenty minutes helping me study when you should be sleeping. Very cold and unfeeling of you."
"That's different. That's?—"
"That's what?"
I didn't have an answer. Or I did, but I wasn't ready to say it out loud.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
I went inside, Watson trotting after me. I showered on autopilot, then collapsed into bed. The cat sprawled across my chest, his yellow eyes blinking slowly at me before closing. He looked threatening even when he was falling asleep. It was absurd. I loved him.
I lay there in the gray morning light and thought about Brian's grin. About the way he'd looked at me when I agreed to help him study, like I'd given him something precious. About the way he made coffee exactly how I liked it, without ever being asked.
I thought about my father’s phone call. The mother who died this morning. The walls I’d built so carefully over the years.
Brian Torres was the best part of my day. That should have been a warning.
Instead, it felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to something real.
I was so careful. So controlled. I'd built my entire life around not needing anyone.
But lying in my bed with Watson on my chest, thinking about Brian's laugh and the way he looked at me like I mattered, I realized something terrifying.
I didn't just need him. I wanted him.
