Page 18 of Ablaze

I’m just wiping the happy tears off my face when Dean saunters back into the living room, his bare feet making a soft tapping on the floor. “You’re hilarious, you know that? A real comedian.”

I shrug, my cheeks trembling from barely-tethered laughter. “It’s a gift. Not everyone has it.”

He sits back down next to me and presses Play again, pretending to look peeved. “It’s a pain in my ass, is what it is.” He looks at me, his eyes betraying his words. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

I give him a gleaming smile and watch as his eyes pin themselves there. “But you put up with me because I make the best digestive dog treats in the world, and they’ve done wonders for your bowels.”

He pulls his eyes away to look back at the TV screen and mumbles, “It’s your only redeeming quality. And even that is questionable.”

I assume my position again with my feet tucked under his thigh. “I also open up your mind to different kinds of music. I make you more worldly.”

He looks at me pointedly. “Forcing me to listen to Miley Cyrus and K-pop is not making me more worldly–”

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

“I lose brain cells every time you make me listen to them.”

I nod, feigning concern. “And you’re worried because you don’t have very many brain cells left to spare.”

He pinches the back of my calf and I squeal, slapping his hand away. “No, smartass, because they suck.”

“They do not! They’re making iconic music in their own right. Anyway, you agreed with my favorite song. You love Drive by Incubus.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Thank God, because otherwise, this,” he waves between us, “friendship would have been on the fritz.”

I snort, shoving his thigh with my foot.

“Hey so, why do you think she’s an idiot?” I ask, tilting my head toward the woman on the show who’s about to meet the man she picked for the first time. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He’s a cop.”

I reel back almost unintentionally. “Yeah. So?”

Dean shrugs. “Nothing. I just think if she understood the magnitude of the risk she was taking by marrying a cop, she probably wouldn’t make the choice so lackadaisically.”

“Lackadaisically?”

“Yeah.” He rolls the remote around in his hands. “You know, so casually.”

What the hell? “Hey, look at me for a second.”

Dean’s eyes find mine again, and that same anguish I’ve seen in them before has his words coming back to me. “I’m not the guy who has hopes and dreams of raising a brood of kids or growing old with someone.”

“Do you . . .?” I trail off, trying to unravel my thoughts. “Is that the same thing you feel about being a firefighter?” My mouth opens in a soft gasp as if my mind just found a missing puzzle piece. “Wait, is that why you broke up with Nora all those months ago, and why you haven’t been serious with anyone else since?”

My memories take me back to the day months ago, when Dean showed up at my apartment, late one night. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, mingling with the scent of sandalwood that always surrounds him.

I took in the blue of his eyes, washed in torment, and wrapped him against me. “Wh–what’s wrong?” My fingers ran through his long blond hair while his head rested on my shoulder.

A shudder passed through him, and I held on tighter. “Nothing. Today’s just been . . .” he trailed off without finishing his sentence. “I broke things off with Nora.”

I pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes as we stood in my foyer. “Why? Because of what I said to you about going after your own dreams?”

He shook his head. “Not really. It was always supposed to be casual with her, but somewhere along the way, it became exclusive. When she asked me to meet her parents and move forward, I just . . . couldn’t.” His expression lay in defeat. “I think some people aren’t meant to dream the same dreams as everyone else. Sometimes their reality is so powerful, it seeps into their dreams and turns them to vapor.”

I narrowed my gaze on him, completely confused. “And what are these dreams you can’t go after? What reality is so powerful that you’re this invested in it?”

His jaw ticked before he shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it.” His eyes went to the couch behind me. “Can we just sit and watch some TV?”

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