Page 87 of Between Hello and Goodbye

“You asked me why I became a firefighter. I think it’s because that’s how it started for Morgan and me. With a fire.”

I sat, rapt, while he took a sip of water and began to talk, erasing whatever lingering distance remained between us with every word.

“Our mom got hooked on pain killers, and pain killers became heroin faster than you’d believe. The next thing we knew, she wasn’t there anymore. She and her sleazy boyfriend—one in a chain of many—set our trailer on fire. If Morgan hadn’t woken up to use the bathroom…” Asher shook his head. “He was eleven. I was about seventeen. I knew if he got put in the foster system, he’d be taken away from me. Maybe put somewhere I couldn’t get to him. That wasn’t about to fucking happen, so I got us out of there.”

“To New York,” I said when he took more water.

He nodded. “I had four hundred bucks to my name. I got us in a cheap hotel, got Morgan enrolled in school, took the GED, and got a job while applying for any college scholarship I could find.”

At Columbia flipping University,I thought, waiting for Asher to mention that part, but of course he didn’t.

“For a stretch, I lived in constant fear the authorities would come busting down the door and take Morgan away from me.”

“How did they not?”

“I don’t think they looked for us,” he said, his expression dark. “If they did, they didn’t look very hard. Don’t know what happened to my mom. For all I know, she thinks we didn’t make it out of that fire. She’s probably dead by now or in jail if she’s lucky.”

I waited, watching the bitterness and pain wash over his face.

“But I had help,” he said after a minute and another sip of water. “The secretary at Morgan’s school caught on pretty quick that I was the one signing papers and making excuses for parent-teacher conferences that were never going to happen. I think she protected us as best she could. When I was eighteen, out of the hotel and in an apartment, I applied to be his legal guardian.” He shrugged, his gaze distant. “The image of Morgan standing there, in that smoke-filled room, looking scared… It was the beginning of the end of a normal childhood, not that it was all that great to begin with. And since then, I guess I’m always putting out fires.” He gave a rueful laugh. “I’m a walking psych cliché.”

I rested my cheek against his shoulder. “I think it’s beautiful what you did for him. How hard you worked to stay together.”

“I’d do it a million times over, but the upshot is that part of me is always on high alert, waiting for the next shoe to drop—a phone call in the night, an alarm. At least when they come at the fire station, I go and fight.”

“No more fighting,” I said softly. “At least for the next five days.” I leaned in to kiss him, but he turned away again. “Asher…”

“I want to kiss you so fucking badly I can hardly breathe,” he said. “But—”

“Then do it,” I said. “You aren’t sick and even if you were, it’s worth it.Youare worth it.”

His eyes flared at that, then darkened with want. He kissed me, then. Finally. I felt it in every corner of my body, lighting little flares that rocketed all through me and making my heart swell ten sizes. With that kiss, I knew, without a doubt, that whatever we had, it wasn’t a fling or an infatuation. The depth of it was real and scared me to death because no matter how close we were in that moment, we lived thousands of miles apart.

Not now. Right now, he’s right here…

Our kisses became more heated and urgent, and we moved to the bed, leaving a trail of discarded clothing behind. When we were naked, he rolled us onto our sides, the wall of his chest warm and hard against my back. He kissed the arch of my neck, my shoulder, his tongue flickering, teeth grazing.

“Are you trying not to breathe in my face?” I asked incredulously, even as shards of white-hot pleasure streaked down my spine with his every wet, heated touch.

“Maybe,” he growled, his voice still husky. “Or maybe I just want to fuck you from behind.”

I moaned and melted against him, surrendering to whatever was going to happen next.

One of his arms slid under me, and he grasped my breast, pinching and teasing the nipple. His other hand went around the front, between my legs. He slid his fingers along the wetness that was there, using it to make circles over my clit.

I bit back a cry and reached behind me to take his cock in my hand and stroked it in conjunction with his fingers.

“Fuck, Faith, I have to get in this pussy,” he ground out, and I could’ve come right then and there at the raw need in his words. “Condom…”

He started to untangle himself from me, but I held onto him tight.

“Asher, wait,” I said, my voice thick. “I had a checkup for my ankle when I got back. Full checkup,Deposhot, and…I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

He froze, lifting his head to look at me over my shoulder. “No one?”

I shook my head and held my breath.

“Neither have I,” he said. “I can’t fuckinglookat another woman, Faith.”