Feel the Fire (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  After the meeting, he was slow getting up, as was Luis. Stop him. Say something. Anything. But he didn’t. Couldn’t. And so their gazes met, held, air thick with an almost palpable longing as the room emptied of people. And it wasn’t all him. He could swear Luis was feeling it too, and indeed, he paused near the door.

  “I...” Luis licked his lips.

  Please. Tucker’s heart sped up. Whatever Luis wanted to say, he wanted to listen.

  “Yeah. We should—”

  “Luis? Do you need Jeep keys or are you taking your own vehicle to the air base?” One of the young assistants poked her head in the room, right as Tucker was about to ask...hell, he didn’t even know now. Whatever he’d been about to say, the moment passed as Luis brushed by him.

  “I’ll take my car, thanks.” He followed the assistant down the hall, away from Tucker, but spared him a last glance over his shoulder. His eyes were troubled, mouth tight, and Tucker hated the thought that he might be distracted by their falling-out at his big meeting or while driving.

  Damn it. This sucked. Back in his office, he slumped in his chair, but his phone buzzed with a message before he could wallow in the awful, empty sensation taking hold of his body.

  I’ve got a time scheduled Wednesday for a video chat with that coach from Kansas. You can do it, right? Mom is still freaking out. And a place in South Dakota sent me stuff too. Cool!

  Tucker was in the middle of typing a reply to Wade when a message from Walker arrived too.

  Don’t let Wade choose South Dakota. Seriously. He’s like a puppy with too many toys. Can I sleep at your place tonight if he won’t shut up?

  He hit Send on the message to Wade, then sent one to Walker. Yes, of course. Tell your mother. And having choices is a GOOD thing. Go easy on Wade.

  Poor Walker. Couldn’t be easy dealing with Wade, who had possibly too many options, while Walker was clearly still feeling like he had none. Exactly like Tucker. No feasible alternatives sucked.

  But then he stared down at his phone at what he’d typed, at the unspoken message he was trying to convey. Walker did have choices. So did he. The problem was that neither of them wanted to acknowledge them, which was different than actually lacking options. And Tucker wasn’t seventeen himself any longer. He drew his shoulders up, straightened his legs. He was an adult and so was Luis. They both had free will here. Specifically, Tucker did have a choice. He could choose to let Luis go or he could fight. And not just fight the universe or Luis’s own reluctance, but fight himself and all the assumptions holding him back too. He needed to look at all the options and possibilities, remove his self-imposed limits, and do the hard work of examining what it was he truly wanted.

  Because there were choices out there. He knew it. He simply needed to be brave enough to see them. And then he needed to convince Luis to dream with him. That might be the harder thing, but he wasn’t giving in to despair and bitterness. Not yet. This time he was going to fight.

  * * *

  “We’re one break away from cracking this thing wide open.” Luis’s fire investigator colleague from the interagency team, a tall woman with curly hair, walked him out of the meeting room where they’d just completed several hours of intense review of all the files on the various fires suspected of being linked to the same arsonist.

  “That’s for sure.” He’d spent most of the meeting hyper-focused on the case at hand, trying to block out any distractions. But during the boring parts, he kept drifting back to Tucker and to the haunted expression on his face earlier that day. His brain felt one missing piece away too, like if he could only come at the problem of him and Tucker from a fresh angle, he’d have the solution they so desperately needed.

  “I hear they’re shipping you back home at the end of the week.” The investigator paused near the end of the hallway, near the break room and restrooms.

  “Looks like it.” The last thing Luis wanted was to think more about leaving. He was so fucking torn. Rosalind had sounded scattered—they were all spread too thin, everyone out in the field, long hours, not enough manpower, and the fires not yet fully under control. He needed to be back there. But leaving meant no more Tucker, no more time to fix this.

  “Take care if we don’t see you before then. Drive safe.” The investigator gave him a little wave before ducking into the restroom, leaving him to walk the rest of the way out of the building. He was almost to the double glass doors when he heard his name.

  “Hey, Rivera!” Lincoln Reid came striding up, in street clothes. He had a bag over one shoulder, like he too was heading out for the day. The meeting had gone long, and Luis supposed he was heading back to his hotel, but fuck, he was already dreading the hours alone.

  “Reid.” After the party at Garrick’s, he felt like he knew the guy a little better than he had as kids, and he was happy to exchange small talk if it meant delaying the long evening ahead of him. “How’s it going?”

  “Eh. Did two flights today as spotter. Then a lot of meetings. How I let anyone talk me into supervision is beyond me. Damn bum knee. It’ll have me in management soon enough, and I’m already dreading the paperwork.”

  “I know, right? For me, it’s my back, and I miss frontline work still. I’d even take the weird hours, just to be back out there again.” It had been his stock answer for years, but lately he wasn’t as sure. He did like his work, meetings aside. Besides, if he was still on a hotshot crew, he probably never would have met back up with Tucker, wouldn’t be tangled up with all these feelings right now. He shook his head, trying to stay focused on Lincoln. “Paperwork. It comes for us all, I guess.”

  “Yup. How are things with you?” Lincoln didn’t seem any more inclined to head out than Luis.

  “Not bad. We’re close on the arson case.”

  “That’s great.” He slapped Luis on the upper shoulder. “I heard your theory about it being someone connected to the fire community. Gotta say I agree. Reminds me of this disgruntled rookie who flunked out of spring training back when I did some time in Idaho. He was later caught setting fire to his ex’s trailer.”

  “Exactly.” Blessedly, Luis’s brain left the Tucker quandary for a few moments. That was what he’d been thinking for a few weeks now. Someone had a grudge, a motive beyond being a firebug. “I had a few cases like that in California too. Any chance you could help me get a list of the last few rookie classes here, focusing on people who didn’t make it through?”

  “Yeah. I was one of the trainers this year. I’ll see what red tape we can cut through to get that information to you.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Lincoln turned like he was going to go back into the offices, but Luis held up a hand.

  “Tomorrow is probably soon enough. I don’t want to keep you today, especially if you were already heading out.”

  “Nah. It’s okay.” Dropping his bag by his feet, Lincoln exhaled hard. “Jacob’s on loan to a fire up near Hood River. House is way too quiet, even with the dogs.”

  “You miss him.” Luis had to smile at this big, badass guy who would be as at home on a battlefield as a motorcycle gang, yet who also had such a soft spot for his man and wasn’t afraid to admit he had feelings.

  Lincoln sighed and rubbed at his closely cropped hair. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “He’ll be back soon, I’m sure. Has it been hard this year, being on different crews?” New regulations meant that the smoke-jumping management was reluctant to put people in a long-term relationship together on the same small crew.

  “Yeah, it has. Not gonna lie.” Rolling his neck, Lincoln stretched and looked away. “We still work together some, but it’s not the same. Weird too because I’m so fucking proud of him advancing. Like I didn’t even know it was possible to be that proud of someone else, you know?”

  “I get it. I’ve been there.” And he had. Both with Mike, being wo
rried and proud every time he advanced or got called out, and now with Tucker, being in awe as he managed things at the fire camp. And weird was the right way to put it. Pride in someone else was a great, positive emotion, but it also brought with it a certain vulnerability that could be less than comfortable, especially when risk was involved.

  “Yeah? You got someone back home?” Lincoln studied him carefully. “Was kind of under the impression that you and Tucker...”

  “It’s complicated.” Luis wasn’t going to lie and say it was nothing, but he also wasn’t about to air any private business right here in the lobby. “And no one at home. Not for a long time now.”

  Knowing how the rumor mill worked in the fire community, he added that last bit so that no one would think Tucker was his piece on the side. But saying the words made certain thoughts reappear. No one at home. He’d been perfectly fine with that reality right up until now, when he suddenly wasn’t. It was like forgetting to eat all day, then realizing he’d been starving for hours.

  “Ah. Complicated sucks.” Lincoln arched his eyebrows like a guy who’d been there a time or two.

  “Word.” Luis still wasn’t giving him details, but they exchanged a sort of knowing look, an acknowledgment of past battles they’d each fought, a certain mutual respect passing between them even without words.

  “Been there. Fucking sucked. But I also wouldn’t change a damn thing. Sometimes complicated works out. I hope it does for you, man.” This time when Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder, it was softer, less Hulk and more understanding.

  “Thanks.” They had another wordless conversation with their eyes, more of that understanding that made Luis’s throat strangely tight.

  Lincoln gave him a last commiserating look before picking up his bag. “I’ll get on those names for the investigation. You have a good rest of your evening.”

  “Will do,” Luis replied before heading to the parking lot even though he had no intention of having a good anything. The empty evening was merely something to be endured, a series of hours to try to avoid the urge to call Tucker. Not that he needed to call. The air base was on the outskirts of Painter’s Ridge. It was getting late. Tucker was probably already on his way home. He could simply swing by, wait for him to show up after work, and...

  That was where his imagination failed him. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make things that much worse. And yet his car pointed itself toward town, not the rural highway back to his Bend hotel. He didn’t head right to Tucker either though. Instead he wandered, past the house where his family had lived. It was older now, needing new paint, and had several vehicles out front, so he only briefly paused there. So many memories. His mom was right. It wasn’t all bad. There was the tree he’d climbed so many times and his upstairs window that had once had a row of vinyl superhero decals. A dad-type guy emerged from the house, two small children trailing after him, and Luis moved on, same as the house had.

  His meandering drive took him by the high school next, and there he parked, led by some weird pull to the empty bleachers where he’d spent so many hours talking with Tucker as kids. And then the newer memory of watching Tucker’s kids play. He’d felt it then, all that potential they had, not simply from their past connection, but all the present possibilities.

  We’ll make it work. He’d sat right here, all those years ago, and believed that with every neuron he had. He’d known that Tucker was the one for him from that first kiss. Maybe we’re not kissing the right people. And it had been there in every kiss, but also every conversation. All the long hours talking, both recently and back then. He couldn’t walk away from that now. Somehow he’d known the second he’d turned his car toward town that he couldn’t leave without seeing Tucker one more time. They needed to talk, even if he had no clue what words to use. Maybe he could start with the big scary ones, the three they’d left unsaid even as they glowed neon-bright between them. His pulse kicked up at the very thought.

  “Luis? What are you doing here?” Coming from the direction of the school, Walker climbed up the bleachers.

  “Thinking.” He wasn’t going to lie to the kid, but like with Lincoln Reid, he also wasn’t pouring his heart out either. “You?”

  “Dropping off some stuff Coach needed.” To his surprise, Walker plopped down next to him. “You going to go talk to Dad?”

  “Maybe.” Again, he couldn’t lie, especially when he’d pretty much already decided. “Probably.”

  “Why did you guys fight anyway?”

  “It’s complicated.” It was the same answer he’d given Lincoln, but it came out wearier now, tinged with more frustration. They’d wasted precious days and hours.

  Mouth pursing, Walker considered this for a long moment. “Is it about me?”

  “You?” It hadn’t even occurred to Luis that one of the kids might blame themselves for his falling out with Tucker.

  “I know I wasn’t the most...enthusiastic about you at first.”

  “No, it’s not about you. Promise.” Luis looked him in the eye, making sure he knew Luis meant it. “You’re a good kid. You’re like Blaze. You take a while to warm up. I get it. And your dad having anyone around, that’s new.”

  “Yeah.” Hands on his knees, Walker bent forward. “It was new. But also... I want everything to stay the same. Which is stupid, I know.”

  “No, I get it. I’ve been there. Change sucks.” Luis wasn’t kidding. He knew that feeling. He’d had it so strongly when his parents had announced their move back to California. Why couldn’t things stay the same? He’d railed against the universe for weeks then. And then later, the year his dad and Mike had died. Time marched on, whether he was ready or not, and he could feel the frustration radiating off Walker because that had been him, more times than he could count. Now as well. He hadn’t wanted to take this trip, and now he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t particularly like everything about his life back home, but he was reluctant to change. It was a mess.

  “All my friends are in such a hurry. Can’t wait to get the year started, then homecoming, then prom, then graduation. And it never slows down.”

  “That’s life. Never slows down when you want it to.” Unlike Walker, he knew it was futile to try to control time, but man, how he wanted to. He’d tried to savor as much of his time with Tucker as possible, but that had only made it go faster, had made him fall that much deeper and further for the guy. And time would keep on churning, regardless of what he decided now, no matter what words he finally said to Tucker. His back tensed with the knowledge that had dogged him for days now that life only gave so many chances to maximize what little time he did have.

  “Yup.” Walker shook his head, eyes glassy and distant as he looked out at the mountains in the distance. “And anyway, I wanted to say that I liked having you around.”

  Luis had to swallow hard before he could reply. Tucker sure as hell had done something right with how he’d raised these kids. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  Gaze still far off, Walker managed to laugh. “And not just because you’re a good cook.”

  “You and your brother and food.”

  “Yeah. It’s kinda mind blowing how much we go through in a week, especially during the season. F—man, I can’t believe this is it. Last season.”

  “Last times suck.” Now it was his turn to stare off into the distance. Last kiss. Last words. Last chance. But unlike Walker and the finite football schedule, Luis didn’t have to accept things ending here.

  “And goodbyes,” Walker added softly.

  “Truth.” He patted the kid on the shoulder, even as his own head spun, words finally coming together. I don’t want to say goodbye. There. That was how he could start.

  “I heard Mom say you might have to come back for a court case thing. If you come back, will you come to a game?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” First, he had to win back Walker’s
dad, but he wasn’t going to mention that here.

  “Good.” Walker gave him a tentative grin. “Wade needs the cheering section.”

  “I think his ego will be fine either way, but I’ll try.” And he’d try specifically for Walker, because maybe Wade wouldn’t even notice, but Walker would. And that mattered.

  “Okay.” Seemingly satisfied, Walker stood up. “I need to get over to Mary Anne’s.”

  “Yeah. Be careful, okay?” Luis wished he could say more, wished he had the right advice since the kid was clearly still wrestling with some big things, but he could barely sort out his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was make things harder for Walker.

  Walker shrugged. “I’m a good driver.”

  “I’m sure. I meant—”

  “I know. And I am.”

  “Good.” Luis sighed because he’d meant it as more than a safe-sex lecture, which he had a feeling Walker knew too, but if he didn’t want to talk more, Luis wasn’t going to make him. Instead, he sat there a few more minutes after Walker departed, gathering his thoughts. And courage. Because he finally did know what to say, but more importantly what to do. But the real trick might be getting Tucker to listen.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tucker had grabbed his keys and was heading to his SUV when a familiar car pulled into the driveway.

  “Luis? What are you doing here?” Tucker had to blink a few times, wondering if he’d somehow managed to conjure Luis up with the sheer force of wanting.

  Licking his lips and seeming uncharacteristically antsy, Luis exited his car to stand in front of him. “I came to talk, but if it’s not a good time...”

  “No, actually I was coming to you. Like right now.” He’d suffered through a hasty dinner with Wade, but even Wade had picked up on how much Tucker wanted to be anywhere else, and had waved him away even before cleanup. Tucker had been rehearsing what he needed to say for hours, and now he simply had to see Luis, tell him everything churning in his head. “Because, yeah, we need to talk.”