Page 51 of Fire Me Up
Gael looked at me, a mix of determination and vulnerability in his eyes. “I requested a transfer to Denver before I left town. And it went through.”
“For me?” I asked.
“I mean… not like in a creepy way?” He combed a hand through his hair. “My sisters are there, and before underwear night in the club, I kind of started to feel like you might
My heart stopped, then restarted at double speed. “What?”
“It’s stupid. And probably creepy. Just pretend it’s only because my sisters live in Denver and I realized how important family is.”
“But you’re moving to Denver?”
“In a few weeks. Gotta find a place to live and stuff.”
“So you were going to show up and, what? Woo me?”
He laughed, his cheeks bright red. “I don’t know! I thought maybe we could… I don’t know, work things out. Convince you to go dancing every night until you realize the way we fit on the dance floor means something. Honestly, I hadn’t fully come up with a plan.” He ducked his chin, cheeks turning even more pink as he bit his bottom lip. “I mean, my sisters are in Denver, too, so I’m not like… chasing you. That much.”
I looked at his sheepish expression and smiled. He was so chasing me. And that I didn’t mind it one bit.
Chapter 17
Gael
Fuck. Why had the crew given away all of my secrets? I’d fully planned to come up with some better excuse when I showed up in Denver, maybe a lie about Denver Fire being shorthanded, but instead it had all just spilled out in one awkward ramble.
“My truck’s over there,” I said, nodding toward the F-150 parked in the employee lot. Dylan followed beside me, close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed, sending sparks of electricity up my arm each time. “Want to ride with me?”
He nodded. “Can we come back and get my ride later? I brought my work truck.”
I nodded, eyeing him as we climbed inside my truck.
“Gael. I’m so sorry. I miss you so much.”His voice was quiet, tender, and it broke my heart.
I started the engine, buying myself a moment to breathe.
I pulled away from the curb, catching a glimpse of Martinez giving me a thumbs-up from the bay door. For two weeks, my crew had listened to me talk about Dylan, had watched me check my phone a thousand times a day, had told me to move on,that he must be an asshole if he couldn’t see how much he was hurting me.
We drove in silence for several minutes, the space between us charged with everything unsaid.
“Where are we going?” Dylan finally asked, his voice small in the quiet of the cab.
“My place.” I glanced at him. “Unless you’d rather go somewhere else?”
“No, your place is good.” He stared out the window, hands fidgeting in his lap. “I just—fuck, Gael, I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You came to see me.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect He gestured vaguely between us. “That. In the shower. Not that I’m complaining.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Me neither. Nothing is better than having you inside me.”
More silence, but less heavy this time. The truck rumbled beneath us as we hit the highway, heading toward my apartment on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. Dylan shifted in his seat, turning toward me.
“What the fuck is with the tattoo? Is that like, for me? Is there some new biker guy in your life? Didn’t you want to have all kinds of experiences with different guys?” The questions tumbled out faster and faster, like a dam breaking. “Why would you even want me when I was such a fucking asshole and just ditched you? Ghosted you like some coward? I was just supposed to be casual and fun and give you confidence, not
“Dylan,” I tried to interrupt, but he barreled on.
”—make you get a fucking tattoo. I saw it, Gael. I fucking saw it. Why would you do that? We barely know each other. I’m nobody. I’m just the guy who couldn’t handle how much he wanted you, who ran because he was scared shitless that you’d figure out how fucking broken he is, how too much he is, how
