Page 54 of Fire Me Up
“Obsessed enough that I’m currently thinking you’d better not find any other fucking apartment than my loft in Denver,” Dylan said, his voice growing stronger. “That’s the only place you’re allowed to live.”
I raised an eyebrow, smirking despite the tears still clinging to my lashes. “Allowed?”
Dylan stuck his tongue out, a flash of his usual playfulness returning. “You told me you can handle my intensity. So this is what you’ve unleashed. The casual, relaxed thing where I pretended I didn’t mind if we saw each other every few days? That was all lies. The real me needs you in my fucking bed every goddamn day of the week. I need to wake up with you. I need you to be there when I get home. On your hands and knees in my bed, back arched all pretty the way you do.”
“I’m a firefighter,” I said, blushing bright red at the vivid image he was painting. “My schedule may not always allow that?”
“Good thing I make my own schedule. And with you in my bed, I’ll definitely be making any adjustments that are required.”
“So, to be clear, you asking me to move in with you? After like a month and a half.”
“Yep. Though… I’m not sure I’d use the word asking. I prefer… commanding. Scared yet?”
I grinned up at him, pure joy bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest. I kissed him again, pouring everything I felt into it—all the love, the relief, the certainty that this was exactly where I belonged.
“Not at all,” I murmured against his lips. “I fucking love it. I love you.”
A loud meow interrupted us. We both turned to see Bacon emerging from the bedroom, tail held high like he was inspecting our reconciliation and finding it acceptable. He jumped onto the couch beside us, butting his head against Dylan’s arm.
“Does your place allows cats?” I asked.
Dylan rolled his eyes, but his hand automatically moved to scratch behind Bacon’s ears. “I’d never live in a place that didn’t allow cats. If my place doesn’t allow cats, I’m moving.”
“I knew you loved Bacon!”
“I don’t love Bacon,” Dylan grumped, even as he continued to pet my cat, who was now purring loudly against his side. “I love you.”
The simple declaration hit me with the force of a physical blow. I’d waited so long to hear those words, had started to believe I never would. Now that they were out in the open, I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
“Say it again,” I whispered.
Dylan’s expression softened, his eyes meeting mine with a certainty that took my breath away. “I love you, Gael Sanchez. Only you. Always you.”
Bacon chose that minute to butt in, slamming his head against Dylan’s arm. I leaned in close and nuzzled Dylan’s nose. “And Bacon.”
He scruffed the cat’s ears. “Fine. Bacon is… tolerable.”
“Tolerable? Bacon is awesome and super cute.”
“Very… unique looking.”
“The best cat on Earth?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far
Laughing, I kissed him again, slow and deep, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath me. We had so much to figure out—the move, my new job, merging our lives together. But none of that mattered right now.
All that mattered was this—Dylan in my arms, Bacon purring beside us, and the knowledge that I’d found my home, not in Denver or Colorado Springs, but in the heart of the purple-haired motorcycle mechanic who loved me as completely as I loved him.
Epilogue
Dylan
Two months later.
“Don’t tell me. You don’t know what to do in Vegas because you also never took vacations?” I sprawled across the king-sized bed, scrolling through texts from Lennox about meeting up later, while
“What?” Gael asked, looking up at me. “No, not really.” Gael was doing something on his phone, angled just enough that I couldn’t see the screen. With any other guy, I would have been suspicious, but Gael was… Gael.
