Page 13 of Striking the Match (Redwood Bay Fire #3)

Teddy

I think my fanfic writer is drunk.

Today has been nothing short of a fever dream.

But the truly craziest part of spending the afternoon with Cassius Garda has to be how normal it all feels.

I meant what I said to him earlier. If I stop thinking about him as the sports hero from the Seahawks or the face from all the posters I once had on my bedroom wall, he’s just…

Cassius. The guy who asked me to do something fun with him on my day off.

I purposefully haven’t mentioned how tough my last shift was.

He said how he was grateful to have some time away from his fame and other celebrities.

It’s very different, but in some ways I feel exactly the same about needing to forget about work for a few hours with someone wholly unconnected to that world.

Sometimes, we can’t save everyone, no matter how hard we try. Sometimes, I see things I know I’m going to remember for the rest of my life, whether I want to or not.

Usually, I force myself to shower off the horrors, then I crawl into bed and hope that my body is exhausted enough that I’ll fall asleep and put some distance between myself and the rawness of it all. More often than not, though, I just end up staring at the ceiling, neither resting nor forgetting.

So I might be tired, but as we make our way through the forest, suspended mid-air, it feels as if I’ve literally left all my troubles on the ground. Like my new friend and I have stepped into our own universe where we can just be ourselves without all the baggage that otherwise might drag us down.

Then a fan will ask him for a selfie, and reality comes crashing back in again.

But every time it happens, it’s less and less jarring to me. That’s who he is, and I guess it’s not so weird that humans want to feel connected with one another, even if it’s with someone they’ve only seen on the TV.

People come to the firehouse all the time, after all, and most of them don’t actually know us personally.

Those we’ve saved who want to say thank you with cupcakes or other gifts.

School kids on field trips. The mayor or the police captain to discuss policies and politics.

Tourists asking for directions or members of the public in distress.

And of course, there are our neighbors, Mrs. Sylvia Bloom, and her Shih Tzu, Miss Margot Fonteyn.

Seeing as she’s widowed, extremely wealthy, and has no children of her own, I’m pretty certain Mrs. Bloom thinks of us all as her family.

Primarily, that means feeding us and meddling in our love lives.

So, yeah. Perhaps it’s not so surreal that I’m spending my afternoon with a guy who people feel like they know even though they’ve never met. Again, in a strange, parallel way I can sort of relate.

What is interesting is when someone notices me.

Most of the fans we meet along the course of the walkway just glance at me curiously before getting their photo and respectfully continuing with their day.

One girl excitedly asks if I’d like to get in the shot with them.

I politely decline, but she’s thrilled when I offered to take a picture of her and Cassius on her phone for her.

These people clearly all wonder who the hell I am and why I’m so special that I get to be the one hanging with Cassius Garda today. Don’t worry, guys. I haven’t stopped wondering that myself. But it’s all pretty harmless and actually kind of flattering.

But then there’s this one dude who goes out of his way to exclude me as he excitedly shouts at Cassius about what a super fan he is, physically putting himself between me and Cassius like he wants to cut me out and leave me behind.

It’s kind of remarkable to watch Cassius maneuver himself away from the rabid fan without looking like that’s what he’s doing or pissing the guy off by rejecting him.

But when he firmly tells the guy to have a nice day and slips around him to stand by me on the platform, the guy finally throws a look at me, something dark in his eyes.

The last thing I would ever want to do is anything to harm Cassius’s reputation.

I’m aware he came out not long before his injury forced him to quit the game.

That announcement made a lot of people furious and disgusted.

The way this dude sneers at me makes me think he was part of that camp but was just conveniently forgetting the facts when simping over a celebratory in real life.

All Cassius does is stand by me and smile at the guy, encouraging him to continue on his way without saying anything more.

But it’s like the fan flicks a switch and suddenly isn’t interested anymore.

Like my mere presence is enough to remind him that Cassius is actually out loud and proud as a gay man, and for someone like this jerk, that’s enough to lose his respect.

The idea that if Cassius Garda were to finally start dating a man after all this time it would be me is so ridiculous I can’t really take the rejection seriously. And if this dude is that prejudiced, I wouldn’t want his respect in the first place, and I’m sure Cassius wouldn’t, either.

But when he walks away, muttering, “Whatever, man. Faggots,” it suddenly feels like I’ve been slapped in the face.

He said that to Cassius purely because I was by his side.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my eyes trained on the asshole as he stalks off by himself.

Cassius curls his lip at the guy before turning his concerned face to me. “Oh, I’m fine. Are you okay? I should have stopped him bothering us way sooner. Fans like that are the worst. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

I open and close my mouth. The temptation to brush it off is strong, but my emotions are raw from the tough call the day before as well as not enough sleep at the station last night.

“It’s a long time since anyone called me that word,” I mumble, my throat and eyes burning.

“Hey, hey,” he says kindly. Before I know what’s happening, he’s wrapping his arms around me.

Cassius Garda is hugging me.

And it feels fucking amazing.

It’s not like I’m miraculously not still upset.

But his woodsy, vanilla scent envelopes me as he presses his temple against mine and squeezes me with his mouth-wateringly hot, muscular arms. My whole world gets reduced to just him for a moment, and I feel completely safe, like nothing can affect me here.

Yeah, I’m obviously having a physical reaction to a gorgeous man touching me like this.

But it’s the emotional aspect that makes a little sob bubble out of my chest, so dazed and touched that my feelings have to spill out some way or another.

We hardly know each other, yet he didn’t think twice about protecting me and trying to ease my pain.

I’m the one who should be looking after everyone else. But it doesn’t feel so bad to let my guard down and allow Cassius to care for me in this moment.

“Sorry,” I say as I cling onto his back. “Work was kind of harrowing, and I’m not used to strangers in my personal space like that. The other people were fine but that guy?—”

“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs, his words rumbling from his chest against mine. He rubs my back and it’s so good I can’t help but shiver. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m the one who’s sorry I put you through such a shitty encounter. And that work was bad. Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head and pull away, suddenly finding our closeness a little too overwhelming and confusing. He doesn’t look like he minds, which I’m grateful for. It was exactly what I needed in the moment.

“I’m okay,” I say truthfully. “The team always helps each other out when we get calls like that. Plus, our insurance covers a shrink that we can talk with any time we like. It’s really important for us to let bad days go otherwise we’ll go nuts.

But thanks for asking anyway. Honestly, being up here—with you—was already really helping that. ”

He beams proudly at me. “Well, let’s keep doing that, then. From the looks of it, we might even be the last ones in our time slot. If we get going again now, hopefully we can avoid anyone catching up from the next group and give ourselves a little peace and quiet.”

Even before, it felt like he wasn’t real just because he’s famous. But now, it’s as if he’s maybe not real because he’s just so damn kind and thoughtful. I might not have dated in a while, but I’ve hooked up with plenty of guys on the apps and so many of them are just selfish dicks.

So, yeah. I realize in that moment that my fanfic writer might be going off the rails with this too-good-too-be-true rich and famous hunk of a man.

But what’s the point in fighting it? I want to be here, I was having so much fun before that douche tried to ruin it, and like Cassius said…

why not me? I can either continue to be baffled by this utterly unbelievable turn of events, or I can just enjoy one of the most incredible things that’s ever happened to me.

Is still happening to me. I decide that I’m not going to allow one jealous homophobe spoil the rest of our afternoon.

“That sounds amazing,” I tell him truthfully with a shaky grin.

“Hell, yeah,” Cassius agrees with an even bigger smile that bolsters my own.

We take our time traversing the walkways now that we have them to ourselves, drinking in the scenery as we chat about all kinds of things.

I hear stories about his siblings and the various pets the family had growing up.

I tell him about being the youngest of five brothers and how I was always trying to keep up with them.