Johanna’s chest tightened painfully.
“Not this time, Blaze,” she whispered, her voice rough with emotion.
Then Johanna gently pulled herself free from his grasp and turned toward the door before she lost the nerve to leave at all.
The cold night air hit her instantly the second she stepped outside, but it still didn’t feel half as brutal as the look Blaze Carter left behind in her chest.
Chapter17
Blaze couldn’t sleep again.
For several nights straight, exhaustion had dragged at his body hard enough to make his bones ache, yet every time he closed his eyes, he saw Johanna sitting across from him at Clarence’s looking terrified to trust him.
That expression followed him everywhere, from the firehouse to his apartment and into every quiet moment where his mind had enough room to think too much.
Long after midnight, Blaze sat alone at the kitchen table inside Station 4 nursing a mug of burnt coffee while rain tapped against the bay doors. The station had mostly gone quiet hours ago, settling into that strange overnight stillness firefighters learned to live inside between emergencies.
In the next room, Ryan slept sprawled across a recliner like a man deeply unconcerned with adulthood or lumbar support. Michael snored loud enough to violate multiple city ordinances from somewhere down the hall.
But Blaze sat staring at his phone like a damn fool. No new text from Johanna. Not since earlier.
JOHANNA: Thanks for checking on me. Long day.
The message was polite, short, and painfully careful.
And Blaze hated careful Johanna. Because careful meant fear was winning.
He scrubbed one hand across his face and stared at the screen.
The worst part was that he understood exactly why she was scared.
Years ago, he'd spent most of his twenties chasing the next challenge, the next opportunity, and the next version of himself because standing still felt too much like failure back then. Henever stopped to consider what that looked like from Johanna's side of things.
Every dream he chased had taught her the same painful lesson: eventually, something else would matter more than staying with her.
Rain hammered harder outside while lightning flashed briefly through the narrow kitchen windows.
Blaze lowered his eyes to the coffee in his hands and remembered the look on Johanna's face when she admitted she'd finally let herself believe loving him was safe again.
That memory sat in his chest like a blade.
Around one in the morning, Ryan wandered into the kitchen wearing black sweatpants, a T-shirt, and exhaustion. He stopped immediately when he noticed Blaze still sitting at the table.
“Bruh.” Ryan blinked slowly. “You look terrible.”
Blaze lifted his middle finger without energy.
Ryan snorted softly before grabbing orange juice from the refrigerator.
“You talk to Jo?”
“No.”
“You try to call her?”
“No.”
Ryan leaned against the counter studying him carefully while distant thunder rattled outside.
