Page 53 of Fire Me Up
“Yeah.” I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. “Now let’s go inside, and you can explain to me exactly why you’ve been behaving like such a dumbass.”
“I don’t have an explanation,” Dylan whispered. “I’m just… scared. Of how intense things feel with you. Of how we connect.”
“Okay. Let’s make you less scared.”
“How can you be so confident?” he asked.
I chuckled. “My sisters think my hero complex is founded in unhinged optimism, and maybe they’re right. But I don’t know. I’m pretty sure this is going to work out just fine… providing you pull your head out of your ass and go back to fucking me like I need.”
He groaned, leaning back against his seat as he shot me a look that was all heat and raw want. The same look he’d had on his face when he’d walked into the firehouse shower. I fucking loved that look.
Chapter 18
Gael
Ifumbled with my keys at the door to my garden-level apartment, distracted by the way Dylan pressed against my back, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. The key finally slid home, and we tumbled inside, Dylan kicking the door shut behind us before shoving me against it, his mouth crashing into mine with desperate intensity. I surrendered to the kiss, to his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, to the way he took control like he was afraid I might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Fuck, I missed you,” Dylan growled against my mouth, his fingers already working at the buttons of my uniform shirt. “Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight. All I could think about was you.”
I helped him with the buttons, needing skin against skin just as badly. “I missed you too. So fucking much.”
He shoved my shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, then grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the living room. He stopped abruptly, and I followed his gaze to the stacks of boxeslined against the wall, the half-empty bookshelf, the bare spaces where my photos had hung.
“So you’re really moving.” He spun, looking at the space with a frown. “When?”
I grimaced, suddenly aware of how this must look—like I was already one foot out the door. “Soon. A couple of weeks. Might have to put stuff in storage and stay with my sisters, though. I’m still looking for a place. Didn’t realize the Denver rental market sucked so bad, but hopefully I’ll find something soon.”
Dylan’s eyes scanned the boxes, lingering on one labeled “Bedroom” in my messy handwriting. His shoulders tensed, and I felt the fragile connection between us starting to fray again.
“It’s okay,” I added quickly, trying to keep my tone light even as my voice threatened to break. “I’m excited to be closer to my sisters, and, you know. Give you some time to figure out if I’m the right guy for you. I mean, I’m sure you have a lot of options. Hard to find a guy with your level of skill at cat care.”
The words hung in the air between us, more vulnerable than I’d intended. Dylan turned back to me, his eyes searching my face like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled me into a tight hug.
I sat and hauled him into my lap, desperate to regain the momentum we’d lost. But instead of kissing me again, Dylan just stared down at me, his forehead coming to rest against mine. Something wet touched my cheek, and it took me a moment to realize he was crying—silent tears tracking down his face.
“Dylan?” I cupped his face in my hands, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head slightly, his hands gripping my waist like I was a lifeline. “Everyone leaves,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Everyone always fucking leaves. I’m too much, too intense, too chaotic.”
I held him closer, my heart breaking as he finally let me see the wounds he’d been hiding.
“My ex said living with me was exhausting,” Dylan continued, the words tumbling out between shaky breaths. “That my ADHD made me impossible to be with long-term. That normal people need breaks from... from people like me.”
“Fuck normal people,” I said fiercely, wiping his tears with my thumbs. “I love you. All of you.”
I kissed his forehead, his temples, the bridge of his nose, the salt-tracks on his cheeks. I whispered “I love you” against each spot my lips touched, over and over until I felt him start to believe it, until his breathing steadied and his grip on my waist relaxed.
“I love how your mind works,” I murmured against his lips. “I love your intensity. I love watching you tear apart an engine and put it back together better than before. I love how you talk too fast when you’re excited and forget what you were saying halfway through a sentence.”
Dylan’s hands slid up my back, pulling me impossibly closer. “I love you too,” he whispered, the words sounding like they were torn from somewhere deep inside him. “Fuck, Gael, I love you so much it terrifies me. I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t know what to do with it.”
I smiled against his mouth. “You could start by letting me love you.”
He pulled back, eyes wide and serious. “You might not want that. I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
I grinned up at him. “How obsessed?”
