A Fallen Heart

by Cate Ashwood

  Digging into his back pocket, Ford grabbed the half pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and set it between his lips as he shoved his hand into his pocket for his lighter.

  Nash was quicker, flicking his thumb, bringing the flame to life before leaning forward to light Ford up. He inhaled, the tip burning to life as he dragged the smoke into his lungs, embracing the sudden rush of light-headedness and the swift sensation of relaxation. The feeling was instant, and Ford remembered why he’d been addicted in the first place.

  He offered the pack to Nash. “They’re probably incredibly stale. I don’t even remember the last time I had one.”

  Nash reached out, took one, and lit it, the flame of the lighter casting a warm glow on his face, before he leaned back against the metal railing and dragged the smoke slowly into his lungs.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Welcome.”

  “I don’t smoke much, but there’s something about having a cigarette after a few drinks. Makes it smoother somehow. Evens everything out.”

  Ford knew exactly what Nash meant. “I quit a year ago, but when it comes to wine, I can’t seem to help having one or two, even if Sam disapproves.”

  “Ah, I’m sure he’s only looking out for you. You guys have been friends for a long time, yeah?”

  “A couple of years. We met his first week at the hospital. I’ve been there a bit longer.”

  Nash tapped the ash over the edge. “You like it? Saint Joe’s is a good place to work, I mean?”

  “Yeah. I can’t imagine going anywhere else. I’ve been there since I was in school, and everyone, for the most part anyway, is good people. We’re incredibly lucky.”

  “Seems like it.”

  “How do you like working with Adam and the crew so far?” Ford asked, surprised that he was genuinely curious.

  A wide grin split Nash’s face, and Ford could feel the happiness radiating from him. His expression was so open, his body language unguarded.

  “It’s better than I ever thought possible.”

  Ford winced exaggeratedly. “Hard to believe anyone would say that about being Adam’s partner, but I guess Sam likes him all right.”

  Nash laughed. “Yeah, they seem to be pretty gone on one another.”

  “They really are. It’s kind of gross, actually.”

  “I think it’s nice. Of course it’s not like that with Adam and me, obviously, but the station I came from was not… as accepting as this one.”

  “How so?”

  “I caught a lot of flak from some of the other medics there, and Clint, my partner, and I never clicked. He was a nice enough guy and a good paramedic. I never had to second-guess decisions he made on a call or anything. But I always secretly thought he believed he might ‘catch the gay’ from me.”

  “What a douche.”

  “Yep. Maybe I had unrealistic expectations of how partners were supposed to be. My dad was a paramedic, and his partner was his best friend. I always wanted that, to have that close relationship, but Clint always felt like a stranger I was stuck in the truck with for hours at a time.”

  “And Adam’s better?”

  “Yeah. They’ve taken me in and made me part of their family, giving me shit like I’ve always been there, and this is only a few weeks in. It’s kind of incredible. I was lucky to get in on that platoon at that station.”

  “I think you were one of the only ones to apply.”

  Nash tucked one hand into his pocket. “Maybe. My old unit chief mentioned that crew had a reputation. I won’t repeat what he called them. He and I never got along that well either. I guess he heard that some of the other guys were gay and thought I’d fit right in. I do, but I hope it has more to do with my stellar personality than with my appreciation for cock.”

  Ford laughed around the last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and dropping the butt in an empty bottle.

  “We should probably get back in,” Ford said, a little shiver going through him. They’d been out there longer than he’d anticipated, and the more time he spent with Nash, the more he liked him. In fact, Nash had Ford’s type written all over him, but that was definitely not going to happen.

  AS THE evening wore on, the cobbler was consumed, the dishes put away, and more than half the wine bottles emptied. They were sitting in the living room, bullshitting with one another and relaxing. Ford’s tension melted away with each glass of wine and story shared. He sank into the couch, pulling his feet up under him, and enjoyed being with his people.

  “So Nash,” Sam began, staring directly at Nash. “You play for our team, huh?”

  “Dex,” Adam started, but Sam ignored him.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Nash hummed around the rim of his wineglass as he tipped the merlot into his mouth.

  “So that makes Rob the only straight boy in our crew.”

  Rob threw his arm around Caleb and leaned his head down against Caleb’s shoulder. “How can you be so sure?” He batted his eyelashes.

  Caleb chuckled and pushed him off. “Dude, there isn’t enough money in the world.”

  Rob feigned irritation and moved away from Caleb. “You would be so lucky, Caleb Callaghan.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes.

  Sam ignored them both. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Sam glanced over to Adam.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Adam warned.

  “Oh, come on. I want all our friends to be as happy as we are. Who can we set him up with? Caleb! You’re single.”

  Caleb grinned. “No offense, Nash. You’re pretty and all, but I don’t date medics. Ever. Too much bullshit flying around the service already—I don’t need gossip about my love life added to it.”

  “You’re afraid he’d blab about how small your dick is,” Rob teased him.

  Caleb growled and stood, his hands flying to his belt buckle. “Small, huh?”

  “Goddammit, Caleb, no one wants to see your dick. Sit the fuck down,” Adam barked.

  “What about that guy you set me up with, Ford?” Sam paid no attention at all to Caleb’s display, focusing instead on Ford. His mind seemed to be made up about matchmaking for Nash.

  “Dave?” Ford remembered the failed blind date he’d arranged when Sam and Adam had been broken up.

  The growl that came from Adam was loud in the room and pushed Ford into fits of laughter.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Adam,” Ford scolded. “If he wants to set Dave up with Nash, obviously he’s not interested. It didn’t work out in the first place, and that was back when Sam hated you.”

  Sam turned toward Adam and lowered his head onto Adam’s shoulder. “I never hated you.”

  Adam leaned forward and kissed him. It was quick, chaste, but showed exactly how much Adam loved Sam.

  “I think I can manage my own dates,” Nash said when all eyes turned back to him. “Thanks, though.”

  “Well, let me know. That guy was super hot,” Sam teased as Adam swatted at him.

  All at once the wine hit him, and Ford felt like he could barely keep his eyes open. Sleep was hard to come by most nights, so taking advantage of it was high on his list. Ford stood, stretching. “I should get going.”

  “So soon?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah. It’s been a long week, and I’m afraid if I don’t leave now, I never will.”

  “We’d be okay with that,” Sam said, standing and pulling Ford into his arms for a tight hug. “We both love you.”

  Ford snickered. It was adorable how affectionate Sam got when he was drunk. “I know, Sam. I love you too, but somehow I don’t think Adam had adoption in mind when he invited me here tonight.”

  He turned to Adam. “Make sure he drinks at least three glasses of water before bed. And you might want some aspirin close by for the morning.”

  Adam lifted one eyebrow. “Thanks for the tip. I had no idea, being that I have no medical training whatsoever.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. I was just reminding you.”

  “We’re go
od, but thanks. I’ll walk you out.”

  “I should get going too.”

  Nash stood and walked with them toward the door. Sam followed close behind, and when Nash slipped his shoes on, Sam threw his arms around him and hugged him.

  “Thank you for coming. And thank you for being Adam’s partner. You’re a good kid.”

  “Kid?” Nash asked sardonically.

  “Oh, you know what I mean.” Sam let go and backed up until he bumped into Adam, who was standing behind him.

  “I do. Thanks for inviting me. I had a great time,” Nash said.

  “We did too. You’re family now. You come back anytime,” Sam assured him.

  Ford was already standing outside the apartment door when Nash turned, having thanked Sam and Adam one last time for hosting. They waved good-bye and headed to the elevator together.

  “Do you want to share a cab?” Nash asked.

  “No, that’s all right. I live close enough to walk. I could use the fresh air anyway.”

  “I’ll walk you, then,” Nash said.

  Ford insisted he was fine, but Nash didn’t budge. Too tired to argue, Ford let it slide. It was only a few blocks.

  They stepped out onto the street, and Nash shoved his hands into his pockets. Ford breathed in, inhaling the smell of the pavement and the rain that had fallen while they’d been inside. Everything smelled fresh and new, with a hint of salt from the ocean.

  “So I’m guessing what we saw tonight isn’t the typical Sam,” Nash started.

  “Uh, definitely not. Sam is quiet, kind of introverted, and he hates people. He also can’t hold his liquor.”

  “He and Adam have a good thing.”

  “They do. They went through a lot to get there, though.”

  “Yeah, Adam gave me the overview.”

  “So they deserve the happiness they have. More, even.”

  “It must have been difficult to watch your friends go through that.”

  “It was. I didn’t know Adam as well then as I do now, but Sam has been my best friend since we met. All I could do was stand by and watch him get his heart destroyed. I wanted to break Adam’s face, but he eventually got his shit together and figured it out.”

  “He seems like a smart enough guy, but I guess even the smartest guys can be complete dickheads sometimes,” Nash said.

  “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  Nash shrugged, but Ford didn’t push. He definitely wanted to. There was something about Nash, some sort of mysterious quality to him, but wrapped up in this wholesome boy-next-door façade that made Ford want to dig around inside his head. But he’d just met the guy, for Christ’s sake. He shouldn’t have let Nash walk him home. His judgment was clouded by all the wine, and the warm, glowy feeling that suffused his chest had to be from the alcohol.

  “This is me,” Ford said, slowing down outside his building. He was grateful it’d only been a short walk. Any more time spent with Nash and he was likely to do something very stupid. He couldn’t let himself get caught up like that.

  The street was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of what leaves were left on the trees that dotted the sidewalks, and Nash stood there, looking at him with something unreadable in his dark green eyes.

  “Thank you for walking me home.” Ford fidgeted with his keys to have something to do with his hands.

  “You’re very welcome. It’s a nice night for a walk anyway.”

  Ford was staring at his mouth. He tore his gaze away, forcing himself to meet Nash’s eyes. Silence stretched between them, along with a spark of something else.

  Ford faltered for a moment, losing his grip on his keys. They clattered to the sidewalk.

  “Fuck,” he muttered as Nash bent down to retrieve them.

  “Here,” Nash said, handing them back to him, his hands lingering against Ford’s.

  Ford tried to thank him, but the words caught in his throat. The warmth of Nash’s hands against his own stalled any thoughts he had. He was frozen in that moment, caught there, knowing what was about to happen was incredibly stupid and yet unable to do a fucking thing to stop it.

  Nash’s hand slid up Ford’s wrist, his grip tightening as he gently tugged Ford forward. His other hand slid along Ford’s jaw, his thumb stroking softly near Ford’s ear. Ford pressed closer. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be touched. It had been so long. And then Nash’s mouth was on his, and Ford didn’t know if anything had ever felt as good as this.

  Ford kissed him back, tasting the sweetness of the cobbler and the spices of the wine. Nash held him tighter, lining their bodies up and devouring Ford’s mouth as he kissed him.

  Ford whimpered, the sound needy and broken, coming somewhere from deep inside him. He wanted this so badly. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything so much. The way Nash kissed him was instantly addictive, and Ford wanted more. He slid his hands underneath Nash’s T-shirt, feeling the smooth tightness of his muscles and the way they moved as Nash walked them backward.

  Ford’s back collided with the side of the building. They were tucked away in the shadows, the whole city seemingly asleep as Nash erased all thoughts of anything else from Ford’s mind.

  It was so good and not enough, and any second now, Ford would lose himself completely….

  “Shit,” he muttered, pushing Nash gently back.

  Nash stared at him for a second, his pupils blown, his chest heaving. Guilt took root, settling deep in Ford’s bones as he watched the confusion cross Nash’s face.

  “I’m so sorry, Nash. I shouldn’t have… I got caught up for a minute, but I can’t. I shouldn’t have let you… I’m sorry.” Ford didn’t have the words to explain why, his words as jumbled as his thoughts. “I have to go.”

  He unlocked the door and escaped inside, leaving Nash dumbfounded and alone on the sidewalk.

  Chapter Four

  THE CITY was quiet. The radios were silent, and both crews were sitting in their quarters waiting for the next call to come through. Since their shift started at 6:00 p.m., Adam and Nash had done only one call—an old man who had fallen down in the grocery store—but nothing else had come through for almost two hours.

  The stillness was disconcerting. Nash felt on edge and jumpy. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with Ford and how one moment he’d been so utterly turned on, and then next, Ford had pushed him away and run.

  He had tried not to take it personally. He’d been there, and Ford had been as into it as he was. Something had spooked him, but Nash could be patient if he needed to. Ford intrigued him, more than anyone he’d met in a long time, and if Ford was willing, Nash wanted to see where things would go.

  The sound of the radio broke through his thoughts and spurred them into action. Dispatch requested both crews for multiple pediatric victims and informed them the supervisor was already en route. Whatever situation they were heading into, it wasn’t going to be good.

  Adam was driving, breaking at least three land-speed records as he weaved sharply in and out of the heavy downtown traffic to the churchyard a few blocks from the hospital. The dispatcher had very limited information—at least two patients, serious hemorrhage, level of consciousness unknown.

  Nash braced himself.

  He hated calls that involved kids. It was the one scenario he’d never gotten used to. As much as he tried to mentally prepare himself, it was a kick in the guts every single time, and there was nothing that would ever make it easier. It affected him without fail, but he had a job to do, so getting himself worked up before he even got there wouldn’t do anyone any good.

  Adam drove past the police cruisers parked at the intersection and pulled the car up to the front of the church, leaving room behind them for Rob and Caleb. They piled out, then grabbed their kits, hurrying through the small crowd of bystanders the cops were keeping back from the scene.

  Even without having seen the patients, Nash suspected this call was going to attract media coverage as well. He huffed a sigh. He hated d
ealing with the media. Although they weren’t permitted inside the police tape, they made the process more complicated. Having to protect the patient’s privacy was difficult enough with a mob of people, without having cameras added into the mix.

  Adam followed behind him, and Nash snapped into professional mode, listening to the scattered details rattled off by the cop who met them as they moved toward the side of the church. When they rounded the corner, Nash spotted the two boys huddled against the brick-red wall of the church, blood soaking the ground beneath them. One boy sat holding the other much smaller child against him. Blood matted their hair, and their faces were dirty. Tears streaked the older boy’s cheeks.

  Nash approached them before dropping to his knees to see them on their level.

  “My name’s Nash. I’m a paramedic, and I’m here to help you,” he said as calmly and soothingly as he could. The boys didn’t look to be very old—fourteen at most. The amount of blood soaking both of them was staggering, and Nash had never seen a patient clinging so desperately to someone else before. The pale gray color of the smaller boy’s skin convinced Nash there was likely nothing that could be done for him. Limbs hung limply as his friend clutched him to his chest.

  Adam crouched down next to Nash.

  The boy’s eyes were wide, almost feral in the dim light of the setting sun. Nash inched closer, and the boy narrowed his eyes but didn’t move. Nash reached forward and set two fingers against the side of the smaller boy’s neck, feeling for a pulse. When his gloved fingers touched the cold skin, he knew instantly there was no chance of saving this boy. He didn’t know what kind of shape the other was in and turned to look at Adam, conveying as much as he could with one look.

  Nash faced their patients once more, and he saw Caleb and Rob walking across the grass toward them. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

  The boy stared at him but remained silent.

  “This is my friend Adam. We’re going to help you, okay?”

  Adam reached down to pull the smaller boy from the other’s arms. When he stepped back, Nash moved forward to keep the kid sitting when he tried to stand.