“Harris…” Brad took a moment. “Harrison Fields.”
“What about the president?”
Brad scowled. “Damned if I know, Philippe. What happened?”
“You tell me,” Philippe said. “Roger brought you here. You were concussed.”
Brad frowned, shaking his head. “Was... was heading out. I think there was a window. I just remember fire.”
His gaze drifted away from Philippe. Ian held his breath, his heart stopping when their eyes met. Brad’s gaze darkened. His fingers twitched. Then he seemed to realize Ian’s hand was in his, and his fingers tightened around Ian’s.
You still want me? Ian thought.
“You were unconscious,” Philippe said. “Just about two minutes, but we’ll have to send you in to get you looked at.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He breathed out, rubbing his head with his other hand. “I’m fine. See to someone else, Phil.”
Philippe glanced at Ian. “If he shows any other signs of concussion—slurred speech, nausea, headache, memory loss, blurred vision—come right to me.”
Ian nodded vigorously, committing the symptoms all to memory. “Yeah. I will.”
Philippe waved, then headed off to tend to the other burn victims. Ian watched him leave. When he looked back, Brad’s gaze was still on him. Ian was nervous, suddenly.
“Hey,” Brad murmured, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
“Do you still remember my name?” Ian asked. “My full name.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Not you, too.” But he leaned forward, dragging his gloved finger against Ian’s jaw. “Can’t forget you, McMillan.”
Ian gulped, his heart squeezing. “That’s not my full name.”
“Ian.”
This time, something in his chest unfurled. Ian bit his lip, his heart pattering.
He didn’t know if Brad would really be okay, or if he’d ever be good enough for someone like Brad. Ian didn’t know if Brad would accept him back, when Ian was the one who had initiated the breakup. It had been three weeks.
In the heat of the moment, it had seemed so easy to think he could tell Brad I love you, and everything would be solved.
“Are you really okay?” Ian asked, his stomach jolting with anxiety.
“Yeah, I am. My head hurts, though.” Brad paused. “The top one.”
Ian stared. “I can’t—can’t believe you’re joking about this.” But he cracked a smile, unable to help it. Brad was here. He was alive. “You almost died.”
“I didn’t almost die.” Brad caught Ian’s hand, entwining their fingers together. “Anything to see you smile, though.”
Ian faltered under the intensity of his gaze. “Aren’t you supposed to have short-term amnesia when you get a concussion?”
Brad shrugged, but he pulled off his gloves, reaching up. When he touched Ian’s chin, his fingers were warm, callused, exactly the way Ian remembered. “Guess I couldn’t forget you.”
That made Ian’s breath hitch. “O-oh.”
Brad leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. His warmth soaked into Ian’s skin, and his eyes blurred, all honey-brown.
“For a bit there, when you dropped behind the window... I thought for sure you were gonna die,” Brad murmured. “I almost pissed myself—I was so scared.”
Ian forgot to breathe. “You... were?”
“Yeah. I love you. Never stopped loving you for a single moment, you know. Don’t want to imagine a life without you.” Brad’s voice rumbled into Ian’s ears, and his fingers tangled in Ian’s hair.
Ian trembled, tears filling his eyes. Brad loves me. “I’m sorry,” Ian whispered. “I shouldn’t have told you that you weren’t good enough. I—I was lying.”
Brad breathed in sharply. “Yeah?”
“I love you,” Ian mumbled, guilt filling his lungs. “I’m sorry I told you otherwise. I don’t care about your past, Brad. I don’t care about my job at the college, or your dad, or your mistakes. I just love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
Brad’s eyes widened. Then he cradled Ian’s face in his hands, his breath hot on Ian’s lips. “Yeah? You love me?”
Brad’s chest heaved, and the way he looked at Ian—his eyes intent, full of hope—Ian couldn’t bear to part with him again. Couldn’t bear to let go, or tell Brad any more lies. Brad didn’t deserve to be lied to at all.
Ian nodded jerkily, looking away. “I was afraid you were going to die. I can’t... I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not gonna leave,” Brad growled, sliding his arm around Ian’s shoulders. “Never gonna leave you, as long as you want me to stay.”
“Please,” Ian whispered, bowing his head. He couldn’t help the gut-wrenching fear. “If—if you’ll have me again...”
“Yeah,” Brad breathed. “I want you to be mine. Forever, and a decade after that.”
He does want me. Ian laughed softly, weak with relief. He flattened his hands against the thick material of Brad’s firefighting coat, trying to find skin.
Brad cupped his face and kissed him hard, and Ian groaned into his mouth, his nerves tingling at the sweet caress of Brad’s lips. Brad smelled like smoke and ash, but his mouth was warm, inviting, and it felt like part of Ian’s life was settling back into place with his touch.
“Mine,” Brad whispered, dragging his wrists down Ian’s face, leaving a trail of walnut on Ian’s skin. “I want you home with me. Want you in my bed, Ian. Want to taste you and mark you and make you scream.”
Ian shuddered, the nerves in his body lighting up. He couldn’t forget the fear that Brad might die, the terrible, hopeless moments when he thought he would lose his alpha forever.
Brad was here. He was alive, he wanted Ian, and the relief and joy that swelled through Ian’s chest leaked from his eyes as tears.
“Don’t cry,” Brad murmured, brushing Ian’s tears away with his thumbs.
“I’m happy,” Ian said. “I just... I missed you so much.”
Brad pulled Ian close, dropping kisses all over his face. “Same here. Gwen, too. She keeps asking when you’re coming home.”
Ian swallowed hard, the anticipation of seeing Gwen tightening his throat. “She does?”
“Yeah.” Brad stroked Ian’s hair. “I hired a babysitter to watch her while I’m on duty. It’s not the same, though. Nothing’s the same without you.”
Ian bit his lip hard, pressing his face
