Page 14 of From the Ashes (Redwood Bay Fire #2)

CHAPTER 14

Zahir

‘Please forgive me.’

Those words have been going around my head nonstop since yesterday, haunting me.

If Colt regretted having sex that fast, it’s me who should be begging for forgiveness. I never should have been so stupid as to kiss him. I definitely shouldn’t have invited him into my home, or my life for that matter. Yara was right.

And she knows it. At least she’s not calling me out on it.

Yet.

The past is the past and I was a na?ve fool to think anything could possibly be different this time around simply because we’re adults now. I have worked so hard to find peace in my life. Yes, there might be some solitude as well, but I’ll take that over the earth-shattering disappointment that’s been dragging me down from the moment Colt sprinted out of my home, leaving me covered in both of our cold, drying cum.

The shame was almost unbearable as I eventually dragged myself into the shower to get rid of the evidence. It still is, but at least it’s easier to stand it with clothes on.

The crushing blow no doubt felt worse because for just a few minutes, I was flying high in utter bliss, the kind I hadn’t felt before, not even as a teenager when we first got together. Back then I didn’t know what pain was yet to come. The euphoria of reclaiming our connection was so much sweeter as it was much harder to earn.

Except it was gone in a flash, and the pain is now as excruciating as I feared it would be. The added layer of humiliation isn’t helping, either. I should have known better. I let my hope override the truth.

The thing is, though, that in that moment, I absolutely felt that Colt wanted the intimacy as much as I did, if not more. He was desperate, considerate, loving, caring…all the things I remember his younger self being. He was absolutely in it with me until the end.

Then it was as if someone yanked the wool from his eyes and he realized where he was and what he was doing, and everything dissolved in an instant.

But why? He asked me to forgive him, but he didn’t do anything wrong. Not this time. I was the one who made the first move. I’m guilt stricken worrying that he was naked and vulnerable and I somehow took advantage of him. Did he truly consent to what happened? I pulled back from that initial kiss to take my shirt off. I would hope that was enough opportunity for him to have told me to stop if that was what he wanted.

I keep replaying every second, trying to figure out if there was a point at which I missed a sign or a look he could have given that meant he was unsure. If there was something, I can’t for the life of me recall it. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so anxiety still twists in my guts. However, all I can picture is the way he pushed me around the way I used to love, and how he asked to make me come and to come all over me. He asked.

If I try and stay calm and rational about the whole encounter, I genuinely don’t think I crossed a line with him. But that doesn’t mean something didn’t go wrong anyway, because it clearly did.

Colt wanted forgiveness. That means he knew sleeping together was a bad idea as soon as the orgasmic high dissipated. Which means that even if he’s into me the way I’m into him…it’s not enough.

Nothing’s changed, has it? I knew it logically before, but I guess now I’ve had a practical demonstration. I’m certain the attraction between us is mutual. By leaving my place the second that common sense came crashing back down, though, he’s making it clear that he still has no intention of coming out.

Even if he is gay and not bi like I thought for all these years. So if I can’t be enough for him to live authentically…will anyone?

I’m angry at him for treating me like this, but if I hadn’t made the first move, perhaps he could have resisted temptation. We’re both to blame. That just leaves me agonizingly sad for him that he’s refusing to stand up to his parents and be the person he wants to be, the person he should be. Is his whole life destined to be a pale imitation of happiness and achievements? I see all too frequently how a person can lose everything in an instant, oftentimes without any warning.

When Colton Ross’s time on the planet is done, is he going to look back and see nothing but regret?

I know I should be more concerned with my own tattered heart and conflicting feelings. However, my world is rich with family, friends, and a career that I know is my true calling. Sure, I could possibly open myself up more, but maybe now I will. The hurt I’ve been afraid of all these years has reared its ugly head and I might be drained and devastated today, but I am still standing. I’ll recover. Perhaps this will finally allow me to try entering into a relationship with someone new?

After all, the worst thing that can happen…just happened. I let Colt back in and he proved me right. I doubt anyone else can wound me that deeply, so why not be brave and attempt something new?

Not now, though. I will at least give myself time to grieve.

It’s finally the point at which to let this thing between us die. I should have done it fifteen years ago.

Yara has let me be quiet the whole return drive. We pull back into the station after a call to a house fire. Luckily, it wasn’t too serious, but we did take the family into San Clemente General to be treated for smoke inhalation just as a precaution. The guys got the blaze out before we even left, so I’m not surprised to see the rest of the One-Thirteen back before us. Although by the way they’re still sorting the kit out and tending to the rigs, I’d guess they didn’t beat us by much.

“Del,” Yara says as I kill the engine on our bus.

I know it’s childish, but I pretend like I don’t hear her and continue out the door, intending to head into the back and do the inventory checks and replacements immediately. It’s standard practice anyway, but I’ll also do anything to avoid talking about Colt or seeing her pitying looks right now.

She made me promise I’d keep my head, and I lost it the first chance I got. I don’t have anyone else to blame for how wretched I’m feeling other than myself.

“Hey, guys,” Lieutenant Flores calls out from where he’s working on lunch in the kitchen area. “Everything go okay with the family?”

I nod, walking a little farther into the heart of the house to speak to him. The stock take can wait a minute if I’m not being forced to examine how much of a careless idiot I’ve been.

“The little boy was pretty badly shaken,” I tell him. “But once Bell found his favorite stuffy for him, unharmed, he calmed down considerably.”

“Lucky most of the damage was around the kitchen,” Lochlan Bell chimes in from where he’s putting food down for Rocky, whose tail is whirling like a helicopter in anticipation.

I’m distracted from the conversation when I glance over at the dining table and see a couple of non-firefighters hard at work. “Rebecca,” I say in surprise but then I grin at her. “Are you following me, young lady? That’s two days in a row I’ve seen you!”

She looks up from her workbook and waves enthusiastically at me. “Hi, Del! I’m not following you, I swear. Mommy dropped me off after school as she and Brent have to do boring grown-up errands. I’m just doing my homework, then Daddy said I can watch TV if nobody else minds.”

“Of course we won’t mind, Becca Bean,” Sawyer tells her from where he’s checking oxygen tanks. As Anton’s best friend, I know Rebecca sees him as one of her own uncles. I love big, complicated families like that. It really does take a village to raise a child.

“And a good job she’s doing of her studies, as well,” says the impeccably dressed lady sitting next to Anton’s daughter, her voice warm with praise.

Mrs. Sylvia Bloom is the fire house’s neighbor who’s always popping in to see us, often with baked goods or a casserole. Sure enough, I can see Lieutenant Flores putting a couple of pre-cooked lasagnas into the oven as we speak. As a wealthy widower, she’s made it her business to fuss over us whenever she feels like, which tends to be most of the time.

Especially if she sniffs even a hint of drama.

“Miss Quick was telling me in between working on her book report that you and your friend Mr. Ross are teaching her and her friends to surf,” Mrs. Bloom says, arching her eyebrow like that’s the most fascinating gossip she’s ever heard. “Isn’t that right, Margot?”

The pristinely groomed shih tzu dog, Miss Margot Fonteyn, raises her head from where she was napping on one of the chairs to give a little ‘woof,’ presumably at hearing her name mentioned. The hair has been pulled out of her eyes by a sparkling rose gold bow that perfectly matches Mrs. Bloom’s nails and the purse that’s sitting on the table by Rebecca’s homework.

That’s definitely not an accident.

“Rebecca says that you and Mr. Ross went to school together and that he’s recently back in town?” she says.

It might not be worded like a question, but I can hear one anyway. So much for avoiding talking about Colt. Her piercing stare tells me she’s smelled blood in the water and she’s not going to relent until I’ve spilled all my secrets.

Suddenly, I’m so very tired. I sigh and slump into one of the unoccupied chairs opposite Mrs. Bloom. Even though they don’t have much in common, she reminds me of my grandma in this moment. Obviously, I haven’t told Teta what happened yesterday because she’d be unfairly upset with Colt when it’s really all my fault. But the overwhelming urge to get some grandmotherly advice overtakes my pride.

Aware that not only Yara but the rest of our team are nearby, I lean my elbows on the table and rub my chest as I speak quietly to Mrs. Bloom. “We were…best friends…at school. But no one knew.”

“That you were ‘best friends’?” she asks. Her air quotes are obvious even if she doesn’t move her fingers. I don’t know if I’m relieved she cracked my code or not. Trying to discuss my predicament with people and not out Colt is hard.

I nod. “Yeah. Best friends. Then he left for college, and we literally didn’t speak again until he arrived back in Redwood Bay a couple of weeks ago.”

“He rescued my friend Nevaeh from the ocean!” Rebecca cries, kicking her feet under the table, oblivious to the subtext of the adult’s conversation around her.

That’s when Yara drops down beside me and loops her arm with mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “I don’t think he deserved to be your ‘best friend,’” she grumbles. “Now or then.”

Rebecca frowns. “But Colt is nice,” she says in confusion. “He wasn’t mean to you after our surfing lesson yesterday, was he, Del? Daddy said we had to go home as it was past dinner time. I’m sorry we didn’t say goodbye, but you guys looked busy.”

I sigh and offer her what I hope is a placating smile. “We were busy, so don’t be sorry. Daddy was right, and that was polite of you. Do you remember Colt’s clothes got all wet?” She nods. “Well, I suggested he could come back to my place and get changed.”

“Uh-oh,” Yara says under her breath, hugging me tighter. I try not to let any emotion show on my face, but my throat does thicken somewhat. ‘Uh-oh’ is certainly the right sentiment.

“What did I do right?” Anton asks, sauntering over with Sawyer. They’re sharing a bag of pretzels Sawyer’s holding, and as Anton reaches for a handful, their fingers brush. I wonder if anyone else spots the way Sawyer’s eyes widen, just for a second. It’s probably nothing more than him being mad at his best friend stealing his snacks, but still…I wonder.

“You were right that Del and Colt were busy when we left the beach yesterday, Daddy,” Rebecca says helpfully. Her tone is innocent, but I feel several pairs of eyes swiveling my way as the grown-ups read more into her words than I’d like them to.

“Busy, huh?” Teddy asks, swinging a chair around and sitting backward on it.

“Can it, Probie,” Lili says, coming up behind our youngest member and massaging his shoulders. “You have to earn your right to give anyone a hard time around here.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “So…busy, huh?”

“Guys,” Lieutenant Flores says in a warning tone from the kitchen. “Maybe Zahir doesn’t want to be grilled by half a dozen people at once about him and his friend.”

I shake my head, my spirits too low to really care anymore. “I don’t think we’re even friends after yesterday,” I say, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

Yara stiffens beside me. “I’ll unalive him,” she growls.

Rebecca giggles. “I know that means you want to murder him,” she says precociously. “But you don’t really mean murder, because that’s a crime.”

Yara winks at her. “You got me kid.”

“Why do you want to unalive your best friend?” Lochlan asks, coming in late to the conversation. Then he glances at his own meddling best friend, Lili, who gives him a devilish smirk back. “Never mind, dumb question.”

“No one is unaliving anyone,” I say heavily. “It was my fault. I made a mistake. I’m simply sad about it, but I’ll recover.”

“Or you could apologize,” Mrs. Bloom says, looking at me like she’s the principal and I’m a naughty schoolboy.

I squirm in my seat. “I don’t think he wants me to do that. I think the friendship is over…again.”

She scoffs. “It doesn’t matter. If you are in the wrong, it is your responsibility to make amends. Otherwise, your karma will be out of balance, and it will catch up to you in other ways.”

Her ominous words hang in the air for a moment before Yara huffs and tugs on my arm so I look at her. “Is whatever happened actually your fault or are you just letting him get away with more bull-poop again?”

“I…it’s complicated,” I admit. “But I do think that I was…unfair to him when he came over to my place. Made some assumptions I shouldn’t have and confused him about where our…friendship stands.”

Rebecca’s narrowing her eyes at me like she’s trying to break the enigma code, but everyone else seems to be following what I’m saying.

“Are you saying you, um, did a crossword together?” Yara asks, waggling her eyebrows like I can’t decipher her meaning.

“What’s a crossword?” Rebecca asks.

“A game people used to play before they had cellphones,” Anton tells her before also narrowing his eyes at me. “Are you worried the crossword spoiled your friendship?”

I shake my head. “I know it did. But I don’t think that matters. Being friends is probably a bad idea after everything that’s happened.”

“How does Colt feel about the crossword?” the lieutenant asks from where he’s making a large salad in the kitchen. Clearly, my disastrous love life is so interesting, even being several feet away isn’t stopping him from getting involved in the conversation.

“He left right after we finished…the crossword…so I don’t know,” I admit.

“I know you guys aren’t really talking about crosswords,” Rebecca mutters as she doodles flowers on her book report.

“How was he when he left?” Yara asks.

‘Please forgive me.’

“I think he regretted doing the crossword,” I say, tracing my finger along a line in the table’s woodgrain.

“You think or you know?” Mrs. Bloom demands. “Because it sounds to me that a lot of emotions are involved and you’re making assumptions. You know what they say about people who assume.”

“No?” Rebecca pipes up, interested.

“I’ll tell you later,” Anton says quickly.

She rolls her eyes. “No you won’t. I’ll just Google it.”

Before Anton can get into it with his daughter any further, Mrs. Bloom reaches forward and wraps her hand around mine. I don’t think she’s ever touched me like that until this moment, and I blink in surprise as she gives me a rueful smile.

“My darling. Life is long. It sounds like you and this friend of yours have enough regrets. Take my advice and speak to him now that you’re both thinking rationally. Make absolutely sure of where you both stand. Not just on crosswords, but the whole damn puzzle book.”

“You said a bad word,” Rebecca whispers in an accusing tone.

Mrs. Bloom winks at her. “When you get to my age, sweetie, no one can stop you from using all the bad words you like.”

Rebecca’s jaw drops at this revelation and Anton looks like he’s going to have a panic attack. But I’m distracted by Lochlan coming around and wrapping his thick, freckled arms around me from behind.

“Don’t give up on your buddy,” he says sincerely. “It might all be a big misunderstanding.”

I think I understand what’s happened between Colt and I all too clearly. There’s probably no misunderstanding. But I smile and sink into the comfort of his and Yara’s combined embrace anyway. Before I know it, Sawyer’s joined in as well.

“Don’t let one crossword mess you up before you’ve got all the facts,” he says, oddly serious for once. “You’re pretty much the most considerate guy I’ve ever met. I bet there’s more to it than you think. I doubt it’s all your fault, if any.”

That’s kind of him to say. I disagree, but I don’t tell him that. The fact that my friends believe in me means so much. No matter what happens with Colt, they’re reminding me in this moment that I’m not alone.

Soon, everyone has added themselves to the cuddle pile, except for Mrs. Bloom who obviously has too much dignity for anything like that, and Lieutenant Flores as the timer went off and he’s busy checking on the lasagnas. The smell of hot food also appears to draw Captain Valentine and our driver Gene out from the captain’s office.

“Everything okay down there?” the captain asks as they begin walking down the steps toward us.

“We’re just giving Del moral support, Cap,” Lili calls out to him before placing a noisy kiss on the top of my head.

“Thank you, everyone,” I say sincerely, which seems to be the cue for them all to let me go. I smile and hope they don’t notice the wetness lingering on my lashes. “I appreciate you listening to my problem.”

Lochlan scoffs. “That’s what the One-Thirteen are for, dude!”

“No problem too big or too small!” Sawyer cries.

“Speaking of big problems,” Lili says as she turns and tickles Teddy’s sides through his T-shirt. “Shouldn’t you be using all those muscles of yours to help Rico dish up lunch, Probie?”

“Get off me!” Teddy shrieks, making the rest of us laugh and Rocky start barking. Miss Margot Fonteyn looks at us all like we’re riff-raff, and she’s probably right.

But Mrs. Bloom is smiling warmly, and she makes a point to catch my eye in the ruckus. I nod at her in appreciation, and she returns the gesture. “Remember,” she says quietly so no one but me seems to hear. “Life is long. Too long to spend it unhappy.”

I’m not sure if any good will come of it, but considering the tangled history Colt and I share, maybe I owe it to both of us not to give up without one last conversation to clarify where we stand.

A spark of hope tries to ignite in my heart, but I’m quick to extinguish it. It’s unlikely that this will do anything other than give us the closure we obviously both need. However, right now, that feels like it would be better than nothing.

People are rearranging themselves around the table in preparation for lunch, but I excuse myself. “I’m just going to make a call,” I tell them, already wandering out the front of the station into the sunshine for a bit of privacy. I ignore the wolf whistles that follow me. I’ve wasted enough time on Colton Ross.

This has to be done now, then maybe I can get on with the rest of my life.