Page 43 of Through the Fire
She blew out a long breath. “If I could spare the time, I’d be on the next plane. I’m dying to meet Kit already. Since I can’t, though, you know what you’re going to have to do, right?”
His stomach tightened with nerves, part of him knowing what she was about to say, even as he asked, “What?”
“You’re going to have to be brave and ask her out.”
That’s what he had been worried she was going to say.
“I know it’s scary,” she said when he remained quiet, “but you have to ask yourself: Is she worth the possible rejection?”
“Yes.” His answer came immediately. There was no question in his mind. The chance to be with Kit was worth possibly humiliating himself a thousand times.
“Then you have to ask.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but it didn’t calm any of his raging nerves. “I’ll ask her.”
Leila let out a loud whoop. “I love this! Call me right after. If I don’t get regular updates on this continuing saga, I might actually die of unsatisfied curiosity.”
“You won’t die.”
“I might. You don’t understand how invested I am already.”
Although he snorted at her exaggeration, he also smiled a little. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 13
It was stupid. There was little to no chance that Wes would be awake at this insane hour, much less wanting to talk to her, and the radio wasn’t the place for their chats anyway. They’d just annoy the dispatcher again. Kit knew all of those things, yet she still couldn’t sleep, her attention focused on the silent radio on her nightstand, even as she told herself she wasn’t waiting for Wes to call out her unit number. She’d been like that for hours, jumping at every occasional transmission and random beep, but Wes hadn’t said a word.
“Time to sleep,” she told herself for the fiftieth time. The sound of her voice must’ve woken up Justice, because his snores stopped briefly before starting up again. It was a good thing she had the next day off work, since she was going to get about fifteen minutes of sleep if the rest of the night continued as the first half had.
“Wes to Kit on eighteen.”
Despite the fact that she’d been secretly hoping for it, the sound of Wes’s voice still surprised her. Her arm flailed out as she tried to grab the radio and sit up at the same time, and she knocked it off the nightstand. Cursing, she grabbed it off the floor and hoped that the fall hadn’t damaged it. Everything looked intact, so she turned the channel to eighteen and tentatively pushed the mic button.
“Hey, Wes.” She tried to make her voice sound casual, but her words came out annoyingly breathy. “Can’t sleep again?”
“I haven’t tried yet.”
With a frown, Kit checked the time, noting that it was close to two in the morning. He was definitely a night owl, then. “Working on an interesting project?” Although she didn’t know for sure, he seemed like someone who’d always have something fascinating in the works. After all, she’d seen his tower room and all the gadgets inside.
He paused. “That’s one way to put it.”
Okay. That’s vague. Kit’s ever-present curiosity flared to life. Before she could ask more about his mysterious project, though, she remembered what had happened the night before. “We should probably go before the dispatcher yells at us again.”
“It’s fine.” Wes didn’t sound concerned. Then again, he wouldn’t be the one who’d have to work with a dispatcher he’d pissed off. An angry dispatcher could make a cop’s life miserable. “Geoff’s working tonight. He consistently naps between one and four thirty.”
That seemed dangerous. “What if there’s a call?”
“The phone wakes him up, and everyone on night shift knows to speak loudly if they need to call in.”
Kit filed away that new piece of town information. It stung a bit that even Wes, with his hermit-like tendencies, was more in the know than she was. “No wonder you’re talking so softly.”
“Not softly enough, bitches,” said a crabby male voice. “It’s two in the morning. Hush up and go to bed.”
“Sorry!” Kit hoped that she wouldn’t be put on nights for a while, at least until Geoff forgot that she’d been partially responsible for waking him up. “I’ll see you later, Wes.” Realizing that she had no idea when she would see him again, she wished that he had cell reception at the tower. He’d sent her the binocular photos of the town, so she had his email. It made her feel a little better to know that she had some way of communicating with him.
“Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?” The words came out rushed, all jammed together like a verbal six-car pileup. It was strange to hear Wes sound flustered, when his usual way of speaking was so precise. When she finally figured out what he was trying to say, excitement shot through her. She hadn’t felt so thrilled by a crush asking her out since…ever. Get it together, she told herself. You’re an adult who just got asked out by another adult. You’re not in high school, and you weren’t just invited to the prom.
