He didn’t care how cliché it was, or how dramatic he looked. He flopped down with his arms outstretched and let the hot asphalt cook his cheek until he couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Land,” he moaned. “Beautiful, beautiful earth.”
“Don’t say ‘earth.’” Kit was standing next to him outside of their former office building, his hands in the pockets of his tattered slacks. “Too soon.”
Chance pushed himself up into a kneeling position but didn’t stand. He tilted his head back and took in the crisp, clear sky. The sun tickled his face with warmth. Clouds sailed placidly by. Never in Chance’s entire life had he been so happy to be able to see the whole unbroken blue dome at once.
They were out. They were free.
He climbed unsteadily to his feet. He had the strangest desire to sprint off in a random direction, simply because he could. No more trudging down dark hallways. No more picking his way over rubble. No more sleeping in a cramped office. If—when he got home, he was going to dig out his sleeping bag and camp outside for a week.
In truth, he might have to, judging by the scene around them. The streets were in decent shape in places, but there was also a lot of damage. Lines of cars like ants had been abandoned along the side of the road. Chance was reminded yet again of a movie, only this time it’d be a zombie movie.
A building three down from theirs had collapsed, its cement walls spilling out everywhere. It looked like a candle that had melted down to a bulbous puddle of wax. It wasn’t the only one either.
They’d gotten so, so lucky.
People scurried to and fro around them, clearing debris, organizing volunteers, and hauling supplies where they were needed. There was so much to be done, but when Chance looked at the determined faces around him, he truly believed everything was going to be all right.
Getting them out had been no small feat. It’d taken a dozen people to clear the hallway enough for them to wriggle out, and then they’d had to get lowered down the collapsed stairway via a series of harnesses. Looking at it, Chance couldn’t believe anyone had gotten up to rescue them.
Everyone they saw told them how fortunate they were to have survived. Some were officials, but most were people who lived in the city. People who wanted to help. One guy in clothes almost as grimy as theirs said he was a paramedic and checked them for injuries. Then he wrapped them up in blankets that looked like someone’s grandma had knitted them, before scurrying off to the next person.
A mother and her two grade-school-aged children were handing out sandwiches, power bars, and bottles of water. Chance and Kit both helped themselves to sandwiches, the first real food they’d eaten in four meals.
There was also a news crew with a shabby van that looked like it’d seen the earthquake firsthand. The reporter—a young woman who never stopped smiling—informed Chance that everyone in the building had gotten out safe, though there had been several critical injuries.
To their surprise, she knew who they were. Apparently, Pat had told the news that Kit and “a skinny guy” were the reason he’d escaped unscathed. They’d made it onto a list of local heroes the station was using to keep people’s spirits up. The reporter wanted to interview them for the evening segment, but they both declined.
“We’re not heroes,” Kit said. “We’re people who did the right thing. It’s as simple as that.”
“Besides, we’re pretty sure the universe already rewarded us,” Chance quipped.
After that, they were approached by the woman who’d called to them inside: Officer Peters. She offered to take them down to the station when she’d finished radioing in their rescue. There, they could use landlines to call their families and arrange for transportation, shelter, or whatever they needed. Aid was pouring in from all over the country. It was amazing how many people had come together to help.
Even more amazing was the explanation Officer Peters gave for their unlikely rescue. Apparently, a woman by the name of Marci had marched into the precinct the day before and claimed she knew the location of two survivors. When the police had told her all officers were already engaged, she’d screamed bloody murder until a group of volunteers had agreed to look for them.
“Marci came through for us,” Chance breathed. He turned to the reporter and called, “Add Marci Sawyer to the list of local heroes. We owe her our lives.”
“We’ll get in touch with her as soon as we can,” Kit said. “We both owe her a huge thank-you.”
Officer Peters excused herself to radio the station.
As soon as she was gone, Kit edged closer to him. “I can’t believe everyone got out of the building okay. It’s a miracle.”
“Yeah.” Chance leaned his head on Kit’s shoulder, staring up at the sky. “Man, it’s good to be back on solid ground. Has it really only been a day since the earthquake? Feels like a lot longer.”
“Feels like a lifetime.” Kit kissed the top of his head. “So much has changed.”
“How are you feeling? Are you still in shock?”
“No, that’s the weird thing. I thought the panic would linger, but the second we got outside, it dissipated. It was like my brain wanted so badly to be out of that damn office, it leaped at the idea that we were. Now, I’m having trouble believing all that really happened. Seems like a dream.”
“If it was a dream, it was an elaborate one.” Chance turned and slid his arms over Kit’s shoulders. “And one I wouldn’t mind having again, now that I know we make it out.”
“I’d rather live in the now.” Kit grinned. “Though I’d do it all again if it meant finding you.”
“That’s so sweet, I can almost forgive how corny it is.” Chance leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him. “So, what are we going to do about this?”
“About what?”
“We had we’re-going-to-die sex, but then we didn’t die. Awkward.”
Kit threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t feel awkward. I feel . . . incredible. Never been so happy to feel the sunshine on my face.” He reached out and took Chance’s hand. “Or to be with someone.”
Heat that was definitely not from the sun found its way into Chance’s cheeks. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought the attraction between them was just adrenaline and fear. It went so much deeper than that.
He squeezed Kit’s fingers. “But seriously, where do we go from here? We both need to check on our homes and our families. I don’t want to be separated from you, though.”
“Let’s get to the police station first. Call our parents. Call our friends. Figure out if our homes are still standing. Officer Peters said the area I live in wasn’t hit that badly, so my apartment might be a good place for us to go. I can check on Snap, we can recharge, and then we’ll figure out our next move.” He ducked his head. “If you want to, that is.”
Chance tapped his chin. “Well, I am dying to meet Snap. You might make a cat person out of me yet.”
“Snap’s going to love you. I know it.” Kit stepped closer. “Seriously though, we’re probably going to have to evacuate, and you need to find your family. Mine’s back in LA, so I have no one to worry about but Snap. If you need to go be with your parents, I understand. We can meet up later when things have calmed down.”
“No way. We’re in this together. If you’ll have me, I’m sticking with you.” He chewed his bottom lip. “Will you? Have me?”
“Oh, I’ll have you all right.” Kit pressed his lips to Chance’s ear. “Once we get to my place, if everyone’s safe and there’s nothing that can be done right away, I have plans for you. Plans that involve my bed hopefully being intact.”
Chance leaned into the touch. “It’s nice to have objectives again. I’ll gladly swap out the we’re-gonna-die sex for some celebratory we’re-still-alive sex.”
“Mmm.” Kit pulled away to look at him, his brown eyes light and warm. “On a serious note, we’re not going to be needed at work for a while—obviously—so I think we should join the volunteer teams. We can look for other peopl
e who might be trapped.”
“You read my mind.”
Kit pulled Chance into a deep kiss, right there in the middle of the street, and Chance melted into it. Though Chance knew they were standing on solid ground again, he felt the earth move beneath him anyway.
“Come on.” Kit took his hand. “I can’t hang around this office for another minute. Even if they rebuild it, I’m going to put in a request to transfer. I’ll never be able to look Mr. Halford in the eye again anyway.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely time for a change of scenery. I think once I have access to the internet, I’m going to contact Google and see if they have any positions open. Provided I can snag a first-floor office.”
“Great idea. Though that means we won’t work together anymore. No more office romance.”
“Somehow, I think we’ll survive.”
Hand in hand, they started walking toward Officer Peters’s car. Slowly, so their time alone would last longer.
“So”—Kit glanced over at him—“where are you going to take me on our date? You said you wanted to plan it.”
“I was thinking bungee jumping.”
At Kit’s horrified face, Chance grinned. “What? Getting our adrenaline going worked out so well in the past.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep my feet on the ground from here on out.”
“Okay, fine. A Star Trek convention it is.”
They both laughed, breathless and giddy.
“You’re amazing, Chance. You know that?”
“You’re one to talk, hero.”
Kit’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Think you’ll last a month before you break down and admit you love me?”
“No.” Chance smiled. “Because you won’t last a week.”
They walked off together, their feet on the ground, and their hearts somewhere in the space between them.
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Quinn Anderson is an alumna of the University of Dublin in Ireland and has a master’s degree in psychology. She wrote her dissertation on sexuality in popular literature and continues to explore evolving themes in erotica in her professional life.
A nerd extraordinaire, she was raised on an unhealthy diet of video games, anime, pop culture, and comics from infancy. Her girlfriend swears her sense of humor is just one big Buffy reference. She stays true to her nerd roots in writing and in life, and frequently draws inspiration from her many fandoms, which include Yuri on Ice, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Buffy, and more. Growing up, while most of her friends were fighting evil by moonlight, Anderson was kamehameha-ing her way through all the shounen anime she could get her hands on. You will often find her interacting with fellow fans online and offline via conventions and Tumblr, and she is happy to talk about anything from nerd life to writing tips. She has attended conventions on three separate continents and now considers herself a career geek. She advises anyone who attends pop culture events in the UK to watch out for Weeping Angels, as they are everywhere. If you’re at an event, and you see a 6’2” redhead wandering around with a vague look on her face, that’s probably her.
Her favorite authors include J.K. Rowling, Gail Carson Levine, Libba Bray, and Tamora Pierce. When she’s not writing, she enjoys traveling, cooking, spending too much time on the internet, playing fetch with her cat, screwing the rules, watching Markiplier play games she’s too scared to play herself, and catching ’em all.
Connect with Quinn:
Facebook: facebook.com/AuthorQuinnAnderson
Twitter: @QuinnAndersonXO
Email: [email protected]
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