High Heat (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  “I can’t stay here.” He pushed away from the bed, dropping Garrick’s hand.

  “I know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “I mean right now. This minute. I can’t have this conversation with you with me in a towel. You want me to try for this job. So I guess I will. But damn it, I really thought you wanted me here.”

  “Rain. I do. I want you so bad my hands are shaking with it.” He held one up and he wasn’t lying.

  “Then—”

  “But I’m not going to ask you to stay in Painter’s Ridge. I like you too much for that. I like us too much for that. I’m not going to taint my memories of what we had—”

  “Fuck memories. You could have me. You’re so damn afraid that I’m going to leave someday that you’re shoving me out the door right now to ensure that I don’t get a chance to break your heart later on. That’s fucked up, man.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not going to let you mortgage your future for me. It would be disastrous, and I know it. If that means letting you go, then that’s what I have to do.” Garrick’s jaw was firm as ever, but his eyes were glassy.

  Hell. If he cried, then Rain was going to cry, and then they were truly going to have a mess. If Garrick wanted to play martyr, let him. He stalked off to the bathroom to find his work clothes, pulling them on with robotic hands, brain still back in the bedroom with Garrick.

  “Don’t go.”

  “What?” Rain’s heart leaped, rest of him scarcely daring to hope.

  “Don’t go. I said I’d feed you dinner. Let’s not ruin what time we have left together. We always knew this was a fling—”

  “Did we? Did we really now?” Still buttoning his shirt, Rain whirled on him. Hope, whatever there had been, died a swift, merciless death. “So this was always only casual for you? Even the last few... You know what? Never mind. Clearly I’m the idiot here. I thought... And it doesn’t really matter what the fuck I thought. You’re the one who’s made up his mind.”

  “Rain.” Garrick’s face might be anguished, but his voice was all be-reasonable-now tone that had Rain ready to claw at the walls. “Don’t leave angry—”

  “You’d prefer a party? A nice little civilized going away get-together?”

  “Is that such a terrible idea? Ending things as friends—”

  “Fuck. You. You know how you like me too much to ask me to stay? Well, I like you too much to end things like that. And I definitely like me too much to settle for a few more days or weeks or something when I know damn well we could have had more if only you’d fucking ask me. Which you won’t. So yeah. Leaving.”

  One boot on, one in his hand, he hopped to the front door, almost tripping on Cookie’s unicorn toy. He’d known better. He absolutely had. And he’d still had his heart broken by the nicest guy he’d ever had the privilege of knowing. Fuck it all to hell. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was cross the road, knowing full well that Garrick was watching him go, knowing that Garrick was hurting too, and knowing that this was well and truly over if he went. And still he walked.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You look like shit.” Garrick’s dad had pats and head scratches for Cookie but only a skeptical look for Garrick, eyes narrowing.

  He’d known that asking his dad to come by early before taking him to his neurologist appointment would likely invite questions he didn’t want to answer, but it had been two days since he’d seen Rain. Forty-eight long hours. More now. And Cookie was pining even worse than him. She alternated pouting and watching the door with sulking on her bed, ignoring his offers to toss a toy for her and plodding along when he carefully took her out on his own. Rain had done the responsible thing, texted to make sure Garrick had a plan for Cookie, but no way was Garrick calling him over on some pretext of the dog missing him too much.

  So he’d sucked it up and asked his dad to come, hoping the visit and a brisker walk on a longer leash would perk her up before he had to leave her for the day. Somehow he’d gotten through work yesterday. He assumed Rain had too, since he hadn’t called in sick, but it had been Bosler on the radio his whole shift.

  “Sorry,” he said to his dad. “I did shower but didn’t feel up to a shave.”

  “No kidding.” His dad clipped Cookie’s longer, retractable leash on her and headed for the door. “Come on. Come along, you can tell me what’s really wrong.”

  “Not sure I’m up to—”

  “Yes, you are. I’ve had enough of my own company this morning, and I didn’t rush chores at my place so that you could continue whatever funk you’re in.”

  “Fine.” Pulling on his gloves, he transferred to his chair and followed his dad out and down the ramp. Sparing a moment to notice the lack of Rain’s car at Shirley’s, he made it to the end of the driveway before he gave in to the urge to talk to someone. “Rain and I sort of...ended things badly.”

  “Ah. I had a feeling that was what it might be. Saw him leaving across the street right as I pulled in. If it helps, he didn’t look much better than you. Same kicked dog expression.”

  “Not helpful. I don’t want him suffering. That’s the last thing I want. Things are...complicated. He’s got a chance at a hotshot crew in California. You know as well as me how hard it can be to work your way up to the top crews.”

  “That I do.” His dad turned the corner toward the park, setting a nice pace that had Cookie wagging at least. “And so, you’re...what? Jealous that he gets to be on the front lines? Guess I can see that, how that might be.”

  “What? No.” The denial came so fast it was almost a reflex, but then he forced himself to actually think. His dad did have a way of seeing things that sometimes Garrick missed. But he didn’t like this suggestion at all. “That’s not it. I mean, do I wish I were back out there? You know that I do. Still struggling with that.”

  Glancing over, his dad quirked his mouth, considering. Not saying a damn thing, but making Garrick’s brain work that much harder. Fuck it. Was he pushing Rain too hard to do this? He honestly wasn’t sure of anything at this point. He didn’t think his own unfulfilled desires were that much of a factor in him pushing for what he knew was the right thing to do. He couldn’t be the one holding Rain back. He just couldn’t.

  “He’s been working all summer to get in shape to get a chance at a frontline crew,” he said at last, trying to work it out in his own head as much as to convince his dad.

  “So he’s raring to go, then. You guys breaking up...probably inevitable, don’t you think? And for the best.”

  “What do you mean?” A rather unsavory thought crept into his head. “Is that some sort of gender-based commentary?”

  “Gender?” His dad turned to give him a wide-eyed stare.

  “Don’t play innocent with me. I know you’ve had...thoughts on Rain being a guy.”

  “Maybe at first.” His dad shrugged as they entered the park. He let the leash out further for a happy Cookie. In the distance, a group of kids was playing at the sprinkler pad. “Not gonna pretend he wasn’t something of a surprise. But you’re well past thirty now. Long past the age where I get a say in who you’re with.”

  “Damn right.” Garrick had to work harder to keep up with his dad’s long strides.

  “Now, do I think it’s a harder row to hoe, out here in the sticks, knocking boots with another man? Yeah. It is. But times change. People change. Look at Lincoln. Him and Jacob were in the store the other day, spending that gift certificate plus some. They seem happy enough. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Happiness.”

  Now that was a speech. One that made Garrick’s throat clog up and his eyes sting at how hard his old-school dad was trying. How much he’d changed from when Garrick was younger and seriously afraid that coming out as pansexual might tank their close relationship.

  “Thanks. And Rain does make me happy. So happy.” Merely
thinking about Rain and all the little things he did had Garrick sighing all over again.

  “And that’s what I meant. It’s for the best. Distance never works, you know that.”

  “Yup.” It wasn’t only his parents’ marriage that hadn’t been able to survive questions of long-distance love. His efforts with his ex-fiancée had all been for naught in that regard too.

  “And staying...that’s its own can of worms. Happiness has a way of drying right up when someone is where they don’t want to be.”

  “I know. And that’s what I told him.” The kids in the sprinkler were dancing around now, some sort of move that was in an ad or show he’d seen recently. Rain would know which one. Heck, Rain would probably join the kids in trying it. Damn. Garrick missed him so damn much already.

  “See? You said your piece.” His dad’s tone was emphatic, and he was barely breathing hard at the brisk loop they were making around the park. “You asked him to stay. If he can’t, then it’s best to make your peace with him going.”

  “Ah... I didn’t exactly ask him to stay. I knew better. More like I told him to go.” Fuck. Now he was going to second-guess this all day. Should he have asked Rain? Admitted how much he wanted him to stay at least? Fuck. He had no clue.

  “That’s smart too. If you knew he’d say no, no point in putting yourself out there.”

  “Maybe I was afraid he’d say yes.” Garrick had to admit the thought that had kept him up the past two nights.

  “Ah. That’s the risk, isn’t it? Like I said, last thing you want is someone where they don’t truly want to be.”

  “Yeah,” Garrick agreed weakly, slowing down his pace to let his brain catch up.

  “I know it sucks right now, but this is the right move. He’s a city kid. We both know how that story ends.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” And there it was, the real answer to all his uncertainty. He knew it was only a matter of time before Rain moved on, whether Garrick asked him to stay or not. It wasn’t simply that that letting Rain go was the right thing morally, but it was also inevitable. Whether he fought against it tooth and nail or whether he accelerated the process, it was still going to happen. And if that made him a coward, so be it.

  * * *

  Banana bread. The craving had hit a little while ago, along with the idea that it might help this empty feeling inside him, and as Rain studied Grandma’s cupboards, he was willing to try damn near anything to get that hole inside him gone.

  “Where’s the loaf pan?” Rain called out to Grandma, who was on the patio, bundles of fabric spread out on the picnic table, dye bottles at the ready, and dogs lounging in the sun.

  “Hmm.” Her mouth quirked. “Your mother organized my cabinets while she was here. Put a bunch of things aside for donation.”

  “Because of course she did.”

  “Be nice. She means well. Check the boxes in the garage waiting for a trip to the donation place.”

  In the crowded garage, he found a neatly labeled stack of boxes of random items. In addition to the loaf pan, he rescued his favorite of Grandma’s coffee mugs, an oversize one with a rainbow handle and cheery sunrise on it that he’d given her several years ago. It had been a dollar store find, true, but a cute one. And it was a silly thing to get sentimental over, but he was already in a rather emo mood.

  Still, it went to show yet again that there was no point in getting attached. Things moved on, went on to find new homes to bless, and he could try to snatch favorites back, but eventually everything moved on. Like Garrick, who was either too afraid to keep Rain around or simply not as invested as Rain was in their relationship. Something.

  Rain kept saying he was done trying to figure him out, but here he was, mind back on their fight as he mashed bananas with an almost alarming amount of force. He whipped the batter hard enough that he was legit sweating by the time he put it in the oven. But the last thing he wanted was more time alone with his thoughts, so he went out to the patio while he waited for the bread to bake. “Need a hand?”

  “No, sweetie. I’ve got this. You worked another long day yesterday. And you’re baking us a treat.” Her tone was warm, not dismissive, but it still prickled at Rain, made his neck tense.

  “Why don’t you ever need my help? It practically takes an act of Congress to get you to let me help you.”

  “Pardon?” Grandma blinked, undoubtedly at his petulant tone, which sounded whiny even to his own ears. She pulled herself up to her full height, looking him straight in the eye. Damn, she was scary when she wanted to be. “Am I supposed to need your help doing something I’ve been doing since before your father was born?”

  “Mom said...” Whoops. This was dangerous territory. Time to backtrack. “Never mind. More that I thought when I came for the summer that you’d want my help with your work. I kinda figured you might need me for more than the occasional yardwork or dye pot lifting.”

  “Your parents have a way of getting ahead of themselves.” Her gaze was still steely. “My newest arthritis medicines have been working so well that I haven’t needed much help, which is something I’m happy about. Point of pride, I guess you could say. I always have been independent to a fault. But I certainly didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t,” Rain was quick to lie.

  “I did, and I’m sorry. But it’s not that I don’t want your help—want and need, those are two different things.”

  “How so?” To Rain’s mind, if someone needed his help and then accepted it, that was them wanting him around. Simple. He had years of memories surrounding growing up in the community, tasks that needed doing, praise doled out for doing the work that benefited the group. Somehow, he’d come to crave that feeling of being needed and wanted all at once.

  “Want is way more about choice. Preference, not requirement. Freedom. Want is getting to do what’s enjoyable simply because it’s appealing, not because you need assistance doing something you’ve done fifty years on your own.”

  “Oh.” A vision of Cookie’s new leash leaped to the front of his mind, along with the memory of the melancholy that had been chasing him ever since. Maybe not being needed wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe it was possible to be not needed but still very much wanted. Maybe. Want required trust though, which was in damn short supply for him right then.

  “See, when I don’t need help, I can still do what’s fun, like dyeing a few shirts with my favorite grandson.” She passed him a squeeze bottle.

  That made sense, made him think of all the fun he and Garrick had, and if everything wasn’t beyond fucked up, he’d be chomping at the bit to go tell Garrick about his realization, apologize for being pouty. Maybe it was a good thing to not be needed as that created more room to be wanted.

  But even if Garrick did want him around now, he’d made it clear that want didn’t necessarily extend to a future together, and Rain simply wasn’t sure he could give him a few uncertain weeks.

  “Lark’s not here,” he felt honor bound to remind Grandma as he pulled on a pair of gloves and started applying dye. He was still pleased though, a warmth spreading across his face.

  “Oh, you’re all my favorites in different ways,” she said airily, causing the warm feelings to abruptly stop. Figured. He wasn’t special on his own, was just another grandson, one who was more than occasionally the annoying one, the one who was too much for people. And just like that he was back to worrying that maybe his parents were right all along and he was best in small doses. Maybe it wasn’t so much Garrick being a coward about commitment as the inevitability of him not wanting Rain as much as Rain wanted him.

  Hell. He didn’t know, and going around and around on that point had him using way more dye than needed for the shirt.

  “Are you going for a certain dark look with that shirt or is something else on your mind?” Grandma asked.

  No way was he opening
up about the fight with Garrick, not right then, but there was the other thing. “If you don’t need me—”

  “But I do want you,” she interrupted, voice firm but kind. “As long as you want to stay. I mean that.”

  “I appreciate that, Grandma. I’ve got this chance though, to make a hotshot crew.” He explained to her about the California opportunity, skirting by his argument with Garrick in only the vaguest of terms to conclude, “If I was needed here, it would be an easy choice to stay. But since I’m not, I guess I can’t turn down this chance.”

  “Sure you can.” She shrugged, like it was that easy. “You won’t, of course. But you could.”

  “What do you mean I won’t?”

  “Ever since you were little you’ve had a taste for adventure. You’re like me in that regard—you like moving on when things get boring. Took me forever to decide to buy this place, stay put awhile. Even now I see listings for festivals elsewhere and I get itchy feet.”

  “It’s not that I’m bored here,” he protested. “I mean, my job isn’t the most interesting a lot of the time, and neither you nor Garrick truly needs me around, but I’m not like...unhappy.”

  “Of course you’re not unhappy. You’ve got my charming neighbor and his biceps distracting you. You don’t have to be unhappy to want that adventure you’ve been craving. I imagine this one, going off to fight fires on the front lines, seems like the sort of thing you’ve been waiting for.”

  “Maybe.” He wasn’t so sure anymore what he’d been waiting for. For years now he’d wanted his real life to start, something important and all-consuming, and yeah, an adventure. Spinning his wheels in Portland certainly hadn’t been it, bouncing from dead-end jobs and trying on different majors. Losing out on the fire academy had certainly stung, and part of that was losing that sense of direction that goal had provided. He’d been so sure that was going to be his big adventure, and then it wasn’t. And then all summer making a hotshot crew had been the next big thing. But now the chance was here and...