Feel the Fire (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  “Come,” he urged.

  “Tucker.” Luis gasped his name like a prayer and curse all at once, and then they were both coming and Tucker forgot to care about who went first, hard shudders racking his body as he clung to Luis.

  “Tucker.” That one was a whisper as Luis stroked his face with his free hand. There was a question there, one Tucker didn’t even begin to know how to answer, so he dropped his head, resting it on Luis’s chest again, staying silent as their breathing returned to normal. Sticky and sweaty, they lay quiet like that, holding on to each other for a long time.

  “We’re a mess,” Luis whispered at last.

  “Yup.” It was true on so very many levels that he almost had to laugh as he tugged Luis out of bed. “Shower.”

  “We should ta—”

  “Let me do this first.”

  Luis might finally be ready to talk, but Tucker wasn’t quite there, wanted to spend another few stolen moments in this quiet place. And Luis seemed to get it, nodding, and letting Tucker spend the whole silent shower reverently washing Luis’s body, cataloging every muscle and every scar. He even washed his hair, selfishly using his own shampoo, like branding Luis with his scent could make a lick of difference. And Luis let him, trading slow, gentle kisses and ministrations of his own, lathering Tucker up with strong hands and tender eyes.

  His dark, soulful eyes were what did it, the depth of emotion there echoing everything rattling around in Tucker’s brain. Finally, Tucker knew the right words. The only words really. But he held back, waiting until they’d toweled off and fixed the bed, waiting for the moment when Luis turned those eyes on him again, when the words simply refused to be denied a second longer.

  “I want you to stay.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Tucker finally did it, finally said the words. Luis wasn’t even that shocked. Tucker didn’t bluff well, and his body had said plenty for him earlier. His sorrow at Luis’s impending departure had been clear even before the sex, but it was his kiss that had said all the words that neither of them was brave enough to voice.

  Except apparently Tucker was, and now he was sitting on the edge of the bed, expectant look on his face, waiting for Luis to reply. They were both in boxers, but Luis wasn’t sure he would be any more ready for this talk even if he were fully dressed. Tucker stripped him bare no matter what.

  “I can’t,” he whispered, sinking down next to Tucker, because that was as much as he could muster.

  Surprisingly, Tucker’s mouth didn’t so much as droop, and if anything, his eyes become more resolute. “I don’t mean right this second. I know you’re likely needed for the fires in California.”

  “I am. They’ll need all hands on deck if this drags on. But also—”

  “And you have a life there. I get it. However, I’m asking you to think about coming back, and not simply if they ask you to testify in some court case. I don’t want to be a convenient while-you’re-in-the-area hookup.”

  “You’re not.” Of that Luis was certain, and he squeezed Tucker’s knee to be sure he knew it too.

  “Good.” Tucker nodded firmly, same decisive body language he used at work when it was time to lead. “There’s no sense in pretending this thing between us is only casual. We both know better.”

  “Yeah.” His agreement came out on a huff of air. He couldn’t pretend with Tucker, not even when that might make this whole thing easier.

  “What I feel for you, that’s real.” Grabbing his hand, Tucker held it tight. And damn, did Luis ever love his hands. Luis might be slightly taller these days, but Tucker still had broader hands, rough, working man’s hands as capable of passion as comfort, able to hold even heavy situations.

  “It’s real feelings for me too,” he admitted, clinging fast to Tucker’s hand as an anchor. Even that wasn’t enough to settle the tsunami in his stomach. “But maybe it’s also way too soon to say whether there’s staying power. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

  Tucker gave him a pointed look, narrowed eyes calling Luis a chicken. “You know this isn’t some flash in the pan. Plenty of staying power. If LA was an hour away, you know as well as me that we’d both be scrambling to make this work. And it would.”

  Oh, wasn’t that a nice fantasy. He could easily imagine them living in two suburbs, side-by-side maybe. Weekends together checking out local festivals and Luis’s favorite haunts drifting into weeknight dinners, a slow courtship where eventually they’d work out the little details, settle in the middle. He wanted that so much that his jaw clenched, tension radiating all the way down his neck, finding all the trouble spots in his upper back. If wishing was enough, he’d already have that future.

  “Yeah, you’re right. It would. But facts are facts, and the distance is a factor. You know it too, or else you wouldn’t be asking me to stay.”

  “Yep.” Some of the certainty left Tucker’s eyes. “I mean, perhaps we could make the distance work for a short time while we figure stuff out.”

  “We don’t have the best track record when it comes to distance.”

  Tucker’s wounded face was punishment for Luis bringing up the hard truth they both knew. “You’re going to throw that in my face now?”

  “I’m not accusing you or blaming you. As I’ve said, we were kids. We both made mistakes, but it’s also another fact that the distance played a huge role in why we didn’t work out.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” The fading of Tucker’s resolve was an almost palpable thing, and Luis felt its loss on a deep level. He didn’t want to be the downer here. This was one of those times where being a realist fucking sucked.

  “And it’s not just us. Distance doesn’t work. It’s why Walker’s so hell-bent on staying local. Everyone knows that either one person ends up moving or the couple breaks up. Usually badly.”

  “You mean someone cheats.” Tucker glanced down at their still joined hands.

  Luis blew out a rough breath. “You’re focusing too much on the past again. You didn’t cheat, Tucker, and I’m not thinking you would here either. I don’t think you have that in you. I broke up with you first, remember? However, that’s more what I meant—hurt feelings and resentments seem inevitable with distance.”

  “You’re right. I hate that you’re right, but you’re not wrong.” Tucker’s shoulders slumped before he seemed to build himself back up, vertebra by vertebra, voice firming back up. “Which is why I’m going out on a limb here, asking you to think about staying. I want to make this work, and I think deep down you do too.”

  “I do.” Luis didn’t even have to dig that far to find that truth. And maybe it was time he admitted a truth of his own. Maybe he owed Tucker that much. “And that’s why I want you to go. Come to California with me. You know you’d be in demand for any number of fire community jobs.”

  “I can’t do that.” Tucker raked his teeth over his lower lip as he looked away.

  “I know. Which is why I didn’t bring it up first, but I still want it.” Man, did he ever. Simply saying the words made his throat burn. “Every bit as much as you want me to stay, I want you to go.”

  “My life is here. It feels like it would be so much easier—”

  For the first time, anger replaced longing, stiffening his spine and making his heels dig into the carpet. “And this is how I ended up back here in the first place. So much easier for the single guy to uproot himself. Every. Damn. Time. All I’ve got is a cranky cat. My preferences and connections and life don’t count.”

  “I didn’t mean it would be easy.” Untangling himself from Luis’s fingers, Tucker held up both hands. “And I’m not saying your life doesn’t count. I know you’re close to your family. But there’s going to be a position open here. You could put in for it, give us a trial run, see if being here permanently would be that unbearable.”

  How could someone so damn smart and insightful be so
damn wrong? Luis’s mind hissed like an overfull teakettle left on the stove too long. That Tucker wanted him to stay so badly was understandable, but his stubbornness was about to make Luis boil over.

  “Tucker. Do you get what you’re asking? You’re not willing to even entertain the possibility of the converse, but I’m supposed to be eager to uproot my life?”

  “Sorry. I’m not being fair. I get that.” Tucker reached for his hand again, and fool that he was, Luis let him have it. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to let this go.”

  “Me either.” Fighting to keep an even tone, Luis squeezed his hand. “But I don’t see a way out of this mess either. I know you can’t leave. But I also know me, and I don’t want to promise moving and then end up resenting the move.”

  “Or me.” Tucker’s voice was hollow, all his earlier conviction gone now.

  “That too. Maybe especially. I like you, Tucker. I want to keep liking you.” Dropping Tucker’s hand, he paced away from the bed. “I wish like hell there was some way out of this, but I can’t magically make LA appear next to Bend.”

  “I know. I want you to stay. You want me to go.” Hands on his knees, Tucker leaned forward. “The alternative of occasionally meeting in the middle in the Bay Area or something isn’t really that palatable to either of us.”

  “No. It’s not.” A chill seemed to sweep through the room with the finality of his words.

  “Damn. This hurts.” Pushing off the bed, Tucker strode over to where Luis had ended up by the fireplace and hugged him from behind, head resting against his.

  “I know. It does. Me too.” He pulled Tucker tighter against him, like that might stave off what he knew in his soul was coming next. “And I know it means shit now, but I didn’t intend to hurt you. Or me, for that matter. I don’t think either of us intended to fall like this.”

  “Yeah.” Tucker’s exhale was warm on the back of Luis’s neck. “So what now?”

  He gave in to the urge to slump against Tucker. “Hell, if I know. Feels trite to say that we should try to make the most of the time we have left, but that’s all I’ve got.”

  Gently settling Luis back upright, Tucker stepped away in a surprising move that made Luis mourn his nearness. He scrubbed at his hair, not meeting Luis’s gaze. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. I should probably go.” The last thing he wanted was to make things worse or hurt Tucker more, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d been counting on a few more days until that possibility was gone. However, Tucker stopped him before he could turn, hand on his arm.

  “You don’t have to leave. It’s late.”

  “Be miserable together? No.” Time for Luis to be the realist again, do the hard thing. “Your kids will be around tomorrow if not tonight. You don’t need us making sad eyes at each other all day. And I don’t want to keep hurting you, either. Prolonging the misery for either of us is simply torture at this point.”

  “Yeah.” Tucker’s mouth was a thin, hard line and his grip tightened on Luis’s arm. “Damn. I hate this.”

  “Me too. Me too. So much.” And then Tucker was pulling him into a desperate embrace. They kissed artlessly, mouths rough and needy, hands grabbing, and Luis wasn’t even sure who started it, only that he couldn’t be the one to end it. Breathing hard, he broke the kiss, but kept holding on to Tucker.

  “See what I mean? I can’t stay and make things worse.”

  “That wasn’t worse.” Tucker gave him a crooked grin that didn’t change his sad eyes.

  “But it wasn’t better either.” Digging deep for strength, he made himself step away, go to his bag, get out clothes. Next step would be rounding up his blasted cat, who might miss this place even more than him, and that was saying something because Luis was going to carry this room, this man, in his heart forever.

  “Damn it, Luis. I don’t want to accept that our story ends here. Again.”

  “Maybe we don’t get a choice.” Tone edging toward bitter, Luis put on a shirt. “I hate being the bad guy here, spoiling the fantasy of what might be with the reality of what is.”

  “You’re not the bad guy. Never. I’m not blaming you.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to hate me. I want... Fuck. I want so much.” Unable to resist, he met Tucker in another hopeless kiss, falling headlong into need and regret and want and loss. But this time it was Tucker who stepped away, shaking his head.

  “Go on before I drag you back to bed, which isn’t going to solve a damn thing.”

  “Yeah. Damn it. I...” He trailed off because it wouldn’t be fair to say the words, not now. Not when Tucker had said his words and Luis had said other ones and now the gulf between them was oceans big. And the words, the ones that wanted so urgently to come, wouldn’t change a thing.

  “Me too,” Tucker whispered as their eyes met, gazes holding, moment drawing out. They both knew it. Knew what they were losing. And it fucking sucked that the only thing left to do was collect his cat, drive away from this place one more time. Once again back here in this futile place where it wasn’t Tucker he was furious with but rather fate and a universe that would give him this but not a means to hold on to it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tucker could have sworn he didn’t sleep, but somehow it was morning and he was alone. Again. Big bed. Only himself and the scent of Luis on the pillow next to him. And regrets blanketing him, one after another. Not regret for starting something with Luis—he couldn’t bring himself to wish that, but for all the rest of it he railed against a God he didn’t talk to much these days. Clearly whatever higher power was out there either couldn’t be bothered with Tucker’s petty problems or simply didn’t care that they were getting screwed again by inescapable realities.

  Also a reality? That he had to leave this bed. He could hear clanking around downstairs, and for an instant he thought maybe Luis and Blaze had come back, but then he heard the twins’ voices. He took a deep breath as he sat up and stretched. It wasn’t their fault that he’d dared to hope, even for a second. They didn’t deserve him grumpy this morning, so he pulled on clothes, headed downstairs, and tried not to look like he’d had his heart ripped from his chest last night.

  “Thought you guys were sleeping at your mom’s?” He headed straight for the coffeepot, which was almost full. God bless Walker for listening to one of his many basic cooking demos. From the looks of it, they were making pancakes, every surface covered in ingredients and bowls.

  “Yeah, about that...” Wade grinned at him. “We slept there. Promise. But then I had this idea of making you and Luis breakfast.”

  “Not in bed.” Turning pink, Walker coughed. “Figured you’d come down when you smelled food.”

  “Actually, I heard you rattling pots and bickering, but that was nice of you guys. Unexpected, but nice.” His dad senses went on red alert because chances were high that they wanted money, privileges, forgiveness, or all three.

  “Is Luis sleeping in again?” Wade was cheerfully loading up the griddle with uneven circles of batter.

  “No. He uh...he’s not here. Slept back at his hotel.”

  “You broke up?” Frowning, Wade mopped up some batter drips. “Why’d you do that?”

  “It’s complicated.” He wasn’t going to lie about breaking up, but he also wasn’t getting into it with the twins. Hell, he wasn’t able to unpack all these roiling emotions with anyone, but especially not with the kids, what with Walker dealing with his own problems with distance and all.

  “I bet you can solve it. Tell me what you did, and I’ll tell you how to fix it.” Wade’s boundless confidence was at once funny and tragic because if only it were that easy.

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to talk about it. Sorry.”

  “I get it.” Walker laughed as he accepted a plate from Wade. “I wouldn’t take Wade’s love advice either. He’ll have you s
pamming Luis with relevant GIFs until he gives in and talks to you again.”

  “Hey! I’ve got more game than that,” Wade protested. “He could try a funny present or—”

  “No advice.” Shaking his head, Tucker had to chuckle even as his chest still felt so hollow. Bringing his coffee, he took a seat next to Walker at the breakfast bar.

  “Okay, okay. I think you’re both idiots, but that’s not why we came over anyway.” Wade smiled, but Tucker’s back muscles tensed. Now they got to his ulterior motive, and lord, he hoped it wasn’t too expensive.

  “We?” Walker rolled his eyes. “More like you dragged me along.”

  “Can I help it if I’m excited?” Wade grabbed a stack of papers from over by the toaster oven. “This was in the mail at Mom’s yesterday. Addressed to me with a personalized letter and everything.”

  “Another college?” Tucker glanced down at the glossy catalog and several loose sheets of paper, including a letter from the head of the athletics department.

  “Not just any college. This place in Kansas is a Division II, yeah, but they have one of the best-ranked teacher’s colleges in the country, and they’ve churned out guys who coach at the best high schools and colleges across the country. And they’re interested in me.”

  “Kansas?” Gulping, Tucker tried not to sound too horrified.

  “This would be why we’re here, and not at Mom’s. She’s going to flip out.” Walker reached for the syrup.

  “Yeah, I know it would be a plane ride, not a drive for you to come to games, but you keep telling me to have some goal beyond partying and playing ball. So I’ve been thinking, and dude, what better life than to coach once I can’t play? I’ll be good at it. You know I will.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.” Tucker’s throat was thick.

  “And if I’m going to be awesome at it, well then I better go to one of the best places to learn how to coach. And play some ball while I’m at it. Coach says he’d like to schedule a call with me and my parents. How exciting is that?” Wade bounced on the balls of his feet, almost dropping the spatula in the process.