“That’s new for you, isn’t it?” Tanner urged, and I smiled down at the blanket, knowing he understood that better than anyone, probably. “Yeah, I figured it would be.”
“I hated it.” I replied honestly. “I’ve never felt torn between duty and desire before. I’ve never worried about myself or my lo—” I paused, “those I care about like that.”
“I won’t say that I hate that.” Goldie stated, crossing the room and sliding in behind me on the couch so we were all nestled together. “But either way, I’m glad you got out of there.”
I snorted, snuggling deeper into her arms. “Martinez kept sayingthank you.” I shuddered slightly. “Like he didn’t know what else to say. Like he had to say anything at all. Which he didn’t.”
“That was the shock and adrenaline.” Tanner added. “He’ll come off it in time and things will go back to normal.”
“Normal.” I sighed, staring off at that same candle flame, reminded of the heat from the explosion earlier. “Is anything normal anymore?”
“What do you mean?” Goldie asked.
“That truck didn’t drive into the rink by accident.” I said, voicing the concern I’d had almost as soon as we got on scene. “This was them—Bakewell Industries.”
“You think?” Goldie questioned, and I could feel the tension in her arms.
“I do.” I replied.
“I do, too.” Tanner agreed, tightening his hold on my foot. “And we’re going to find the proof and expose them, once and for all.”
Tanner’s phone rang on the coffee table, and we all froze for a moment, hesitating before he leaned forward to pick it up, as if none of us wanted to break the bubble we’d hidden in all day.
But our time was up, I knew that.
He silenced the ringer but swiped open the screen to check the other notifications on his screen. “Damn.”
“What?” I asked.
“They’re really pushing that story.” He mused, turning his phone to show us a headline that had been sent to him.
Hero Firefighter Saves Fellow First Responder in Suspicious Scene At Hometown Ice Rink.
“Damn,” I whispered, hating the way the word hero made my stomach churn.
“It’s a good thing, though,” Goldie said, taking the phone to scroll another headline saying the same thing. “They’re not just noting how incredible you are, they’re also noting the suspicious fire. That’s good.”
“Yeah,” I mused, looking away from the screen. “I know.”
She chuckled, handing Tanner his phone back. “You really hate the hero arc, don’t you?”
“It’s just—” I whined and then untangled myself from them to pace. “I was just doing my job. And now people are going to be watching me, waiting to see me do something else like that. Something else heroic. And I don’t want that. I just want to go to work and come home and forget the rest of the world exists.”
“Give it time,” Tanner stood up to stop my pacing and held me tight in his arms. “It will die down, and you can go back to your anonymous hero activities without anyone taking note.”
I huffed at him, but felt a smirk on my lips as I buried my face in his chest. “I hate you.”
“Lies.” He said, rubbing his hands down my back and getting a groan from me. “You’re actually quite fond of me.”
“Speaking of which,” Goldie said coyly from the couch, and I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. “I want to talk about that.”
“Oh God,” I joked, but turned to face her, giving her my attention.
“Earlier, Tanner, you said something that I want to point out. Now that everyone seems a little more levelheaded.”
“Uh oh,” He smirked, and I laughed, glad that the attention was off of me. “Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”
“Typical man,” I scoffed and sat down on the edge of the table, facing her. “What did he do now? Can we hold it over his head for the rest of the night to get him to do the dishes? Or maybe we should tie him up this time?”
