"I passed."
The sound that came through the phone made me pull it back from my ear. In the background, I heard what sounded like a crash—probably whatever she'd been holding.
"I KNEW IT!" Her voice cracked, went high and breathless. "I knew you would! Brian, I'm so proud of you?—"
"Are you crying?"
"No." A sniffle. "Definitely not."
Definitely crying.
The crew wouldn't let me leave until they'd properly congratulated me, which meant more toasts, more backslaps, more of Shane retelling the story of my first week as a probie, when I'd somehow managed to get the hose tangled around my own legs.
"Ancient history," I protested.
"Never gets old," Shane countered.
When I got home, Ava met me at the door. Launched herself into my arms
"I'm so proud of you," she said into my neck. "I'm so, so proud."
I held her tight, breathed her in. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Yes, you could have. You just wouldn't have done it as fast."
I laughed, carried her inside, and kicked the door shut behind us.
Watson meowed from somewhere in the apartment, demanding attention. We ignored him.
"Did you see?" Ava pulled back, eyes bright. "Sloane's article went live yesterday. It's everywhere."
I had seen. The story had broken that morning, the front page of the Times website, picked up by every major outlet within hours.
CITY COUNCILMAN'S SON FACES MANSLAUGHTER CHARGES IN COVERED-UP HIT-AND-RUN.
Investigation reveals systematic corruption, witness tampering, and a grieving family's six-month fight for justice.
"Derek Edwards' family released a statement," Ava continued. "They thanked me. Thanked all of us."
"You did this," I said. "You started all of this."
"We did it together." She cupped my face in her hands, looked at me with those green eyes that made my heart pound. "All of us. You and me and Shane and Garrett and Diaz and Sloane and even my father. We did it together."
Everything was finally coming together. The case was moving forward. The article was published. My certification was in hand.
For the first time in months, I let myself believe it was over.
"I think," Ava said slowly, a smile curving her lips, "that the newly certified paramedic deserves a proper celebration."
"What did you have in mind?"
She answered by pushing me back onto the bed, climbing over me with a smile that made my pulse jump.
"Lie back," she murmured. "Let me take care of you for once."
I wasn't about to argue.
She kissed me slowly, thoroughly, taking her time in a way that made me desperate. Her fingers worked the buttons of my shirt while her mouth traced a path down my jaw, my neck, the hollow of my throat.
