Page 21 of Bred By the Minotaur
“What?!” the big gargoyle calls back.
But Hank hops in anyway just before the ambulance doors close, and it drives off.
He takes a seat nearby while they put an oxygen mask over my face.
“Her vitals are okay,” says one of the emergency responders. “She needs oxygen, and then we’ll find out how much smoke she inhaled.”
Again I reach for Hank, for a familiar face, and he takes my hand in his as the howling ambulance drives.
“It’ll be okay,” he says, squeezing my fingers tight. “You’ll be all right.”
But it’s not me I’m worried about. It’s everything. It’s my whole life, gone up in a burst of smoke.
When we reach the hospital, I’m wheeled out again on the stretcher, dressed in a hospital gown, and brought into the emergency room. Hank stays close while doctors and nurses check my vitals again, keeping me on oxygen.
“No serious damage,” the doctor says with a sigh of relief. She turns to Hank. “You got her out?”
He nods quickly.
“Happy coincidence that her boyfriend is a firefighter.” She arches an eyebrow. “I’ll leave you two alone. She should be fine after a few hours on oxygen. Her heart isn’t working too hard and seems stable for now.”
Then we’re alone, the heart monitor beeping next to the hospital bed. Hank scoots his chair closer and takes my hand again, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
I shouldn’t be thinking about it at a time like this, but damn, he’s hot in his fireman outfit. It can barely hold in how big he is, and his thick, muscled body looks about to burst out of it.
“How did you know it was me?” Hank asks at last, still holding my hand. “You’ve never seen me.”
I turn my head, realizing I’m found out.
“I did look you up,” I say with a cringe. “I... I had to know.”
Soft fingers cup my chin, and I open my eyes as Hank turns me back to face him. His expression is serious, but there’s a startling gentleness in his face.
“I’m glad.” He doesn’t release me, his hand traveling up my cheek. “I’m so happy to finally see you.”
For just that moment, I can forget. For just that moment, I’m absorbed in him. His big muzzle ducks down, toward my mouth, and then he hovers there, so close it would be infinitely easy to press our lips together. And I’m about to kiss him when I remember where we are—and why we’re here.
Hank Pittsfield shouldn’t be here, too.
I pull away abruptly, fully retreating onto the bed. Hank jerks back, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, as the same realization crosses his face. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe. This isn’t the time or the place.”
But it’s not that. It’s how much I wanted it, how much I craved it, how much my heart was singing for it in the midst of all this chaos. It’s how badly I want to throw myself at him, for him to kiss me and hold me while I cry on him, that makes me put a good distance between us.
“It’s okay,” I tell him with more sureness in my voice than I feel. “You saved my life tonight.”
Hank bows his head. “Just doing my job.”
“Lucky for me you were the one on duty.” I offer him a small smile. “Shouldn’t you go back to work, though? You didn’t need to come all this way with me.”
His only reaction is his cute little cow ears pressing back against his head. “Yes, I did. I needed to know that you were all right.” Then his brow creases. “You told them about the calf, right?”
“Fuck,” I mutter. Surely inhaling all that smoke won’t be good for the baby. “Go get a nurse. It’s probably fine, since you got to me before it got too bad, but we should make sure.”
Hank quickly nods and hops up, running out the door with a clop! clop! of his hooves.
I fall back on the bed, ruing the day Hank came back to DreamTogether. Now he’s not just a photo on a screen, or a cock and a pair of hands—he’s a living, breathing minotaur, who just saved me from a burning building.
