Page 7 of The Hotshot’s Prize (Praise Me Like Fire #2)

Ella

Zack’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence that’s beginning to settle between us. He fishes it out of his pack with a low curse, glancing at the screen before answering.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

His posture changes. Sharper. Alert.

I watch the tension ripple through him as he listens. His spine straightens, his eyes flicking to the horizon like he’s already a thousand miles away.

“Copy that,” he says. “I’ll be there ASAP. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes out.”

The call ends, and the space between us suddenly feels too wide. My stomach knots.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice quiet.

He exhales hard and runs a hand through his hair. “Dispatch. There’s a controlled burn scheduled off the North Ridge trail. Temps are spiking, wind’s up. They need us to move fast before it gets out of hand.”

I blink. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” He looks genuinely regretful, eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it to be this soon. The burn window is narrow, so it’s now or never.”

Something twists in my chest.

He reaches for his gear, slinging on his fire pack with practiced ease. All business now. His movements are swift, efficient, confident. And distant.

But then he stops, looks at me again, something flickering in his expression.

“Shit.” He blows out a breath and steps closer. “I can’t…I don’t want you any closer to that fire than you need to be.”

I blink. “I…I can hike. I think I remember the route.”

“No,” he says firmly, his voice ringing with an authority that makes my heart skip with excitement. “I’m not letting you hike out alone, not with a sore ankle and spotty cell reception.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off gently.

“I’ll send a truck for you. One of the crew guys. Give me a five-minute head start to get into signal range, and I’ll have someone heading your way. They’ll meet you right here.”

My throat tightens. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do that,” he says.

I nod slowly, trying to keep my face neutral. “Right. Of course.”

He pauses, his eyes locking with mine. There’s a flicker of something there…but then his phone buzzes and he glances down to read the message, swearing softly at whatever he sees there.

“Be good, okay?”

And then…he turns around and leaves.

No number. No promise. No “I’ll call you.”

Just a quick look over his shoulder and then he’s jogging toward his truck, leaving a trail of boot prints behind him.

And I’m standing there like an idiot.

A lump builds in my throat as the dust settles.

What the hell just happened?

I mean, I know what happened. I’ve still got the aching soreness between my legs to prove it. But I thought it meant something. To both of us.

My chest starts to tighten, a familiar pressure crawling up the back of my throat.

He didn’t even ask for my number.

Maybe it was just sex. Maybe he always looks at girls like that. Maybe I read too much into every tender touch, every soft word, every moment that felt like it belonged in a dream.

God, I’m so stupid.

I drop onto a nearby rock and press my palms to my eyes, trying to breathe through the sudden wave of anxiety rising in my chest.

This is exactly why I don’t do this. Why I don’t let people in. Because when they leave—and they always leave—it hurts.

I thought it was different this time. I thought I was ready to open up. But maybe I was just…lonely.

I dig around in my bag for my phone, even though I already know what I’ll find. No signal.

Tessa’s probably panicking. She’s probably called every ranger station and rescue service in the state by now. I need to find her. I need to get back to reality, shake this off, and pretend none of this happened.

But I can’t. Not yet.

Because even now, all I see is Zack’s face. The way he looked at me when I touched him. The way his voice sounded when he whispered my name.

And worst of all, the way it felt when he held me, like I was safe. Like I belonged.

Snap out of it, Ella. One night together means nothing.

A truck rumbles up the gravel path, a dusty Forest Service rig with peeling paint and the faint smell of smoke even from where I stand. I square my shoulders and breathe in through my nose.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

The passenger window rolls down and a guy in a ball cap leans out. “You Ella?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Zack said you’d be waiting. Hop in.”

I climb in silently, giving the driver directions to my house. The seatbelt clicks in with a snap, and I fold my arms tightly, staring out the window like the trees might distract me.

I don’t ask about Zack. I don’t want to hear about the fire or how long he’ll be gone or if he even said anything when he called the truck for me. I don’t want to know.

I spend the ride mentally organizing my photos, planning what I’ll edit first, thinking about gear I need to replace, reminding myself that I need to finish that article draft by Sunday.

I don’t think about his hands. His voice. The hard set of his face as he slid into me…

We pull up in front of my house, and I force a tight smile.

“Thanks,” I say, climbing down.

“No problem. Stay safe.”

The truck pulls away.

Before I can take a single step, the front door bursts open.

“ELLAAAA!”

Tessa.

She’s barefoot, in one of my oversized sweatshirts, hair frizzy like she’s been pacing for hours.

“Oh my God, I thought you were dead! I was about to call Search and Rescue. Again! I did call them, actually—twice. Then I hung up because I thought maybe you were just off making out with a bear photographer or something but then I checked your GPS and it was glitching and your phone was off and I— Where the hell have you been?!”

Her voice rises with every word as she rushes toward me, arms flailing, panic practically oozing out of her pores.

I don’t say anything, just walk past her into the house, the exhaustion of the past twenty-something hours crawling up on me. I just want to bury myself under the sheets and sleep. Or cry.

Tessa trails behind me, still talking a mile a minute. “Do you know how crazy I went last night? I barely slept. I made three pots of coffee. I ate an entire box of Lucky Charms. I even emailed that weird park ranger guy to ask if he’d seen anyone hiking with a camera bag!”

The door clicks open, and I step inside. The air smells like lavender and the faint citrus candle she always leaves burning. I don’t even bother taking off my boots.

Tessa pauses halfway into the living room, her expression shifting. She studies my face for a second, then takes a tentative step toward me.

“Hey…” she says in a gentler voice, concern etched on her face. “What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth to say it’s nothing, to brush it off and wave her away with some joke. But my throat tightens.

The words don’t come out.

Instead, my shoulders slump. My bag slides off my arm and thuds to the floor.

I sink into the couch and bury my face in my hands.

“Oh God…”

Tessa’s arms wrap around me before I can even start crying properly.

She doesn’t ask anything else. Just holds me while I fall apart, rubbing my back and whispering, “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re home.”

Eventually, the tears stop. Or slow, at least.

I sniff and swipe at my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. “You’re not gonna believe this,” I mumble.

“Try me.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay, so…I fell into a ditch and twisted my ankle yesterday—don’t give me that look, I’m fine. A hot hotshot firefighter showed up just in time to save me. A storm was looming so we hid out in a cave and—”

Tessa lets out a loud gasp, cutting me off. “Don’t tell me…”

I nod, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Yeah.”

“What’s his name? Tell me everything!”

“Zack,” I reply, ignoring the tightening of my chest at the mention of his name. “Tall. Tan. Built like he does shirtless lumberjack calendars on the side. Sweet, protective hot guy with, like, emergency hero energy.”

“No freaking way,” Tessa quips, her eyes growing wide as saucers.

“He pulled me out of the ditch and carried me all the way to the cave like I weighed nothing. He made sure I was warm, fed me, and, um…” I can’t even look at her. “We slept in the cave.”

Tessa’s jaw drops. “You slept in a cave with a strange man?! Were you trying to get murdered?”

“He wasn’t a stranger! He’s a firefighter—well, hotshot.”

“Oh, well that’s different. Continue.”

I groan and cover my face again. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…I slept with him. Like…full-on, movie-scene, steamy-night, sex-in-a-sleeping-bag slept with him.”

Tessa makes a sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a gasp. “Ella!”

“I know!” I cry, laughing through the remnants of my tears. “I can’t explain it. It just…happened. It felt so real. So intense. He was…gentle. And kind. And God, Tessa, he made me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel.”

She plops onto the couch beside me, eyes wide. “And then what?”

“And then his phone rang.”

The silence thickens.

“Dispatch call. Fire on the ridge. He had to leave immediately.”

“Did you get his number?”

I shake my head.

“Did he ask for yours?”

“No.”

Tessa’s expression softens. “Oh, babe…”

“I know.” I press my fingers to my temples. “He said he’d send a truck. And he did. He made sure I got home safe, which…I guess that counts for something, right?”

She pulls me into a sideways hug. “Of course it does. Doesn’t make it hurt less, though.”

I let out a breath. “Maybe it was just…a moment. One of those things that’s meant to happen and then be over. Like shooting stars. Beautiful, but fleeting.”

Tessa rubs my arm. “Or maybe the call was so urgent he couldn’t think of anything else.”

“You think so?” I ask in a small voice.

Tessa nods. “Of course. Why else would he leave a gorgeous woman like you wondering?” She pauses to look at me with a dramatic smile. “You might have scared him off with your hair all over the place like that, but it’s okay…you still look like a diva!”

That makes me laugh, watery and small. “You always know how to make it worse and better.”

“It’s a gift,” she says, dramatically flipping her hair. Then she gives me a serious look. “But for real—whatever this was, you are not stupid for feeling something. You’re Ella freaking Murphy. Brave. Smart. Beautiful. And worthy of love, whether it’s from some hot hotshot or anyone else.”

I nod slowly.

The ache’s still there, but it’s less sharp now.

Maybe Zack was just a spark in the dark.

Maybe that’s all he was ever meant to be.

But a tiny, reckless part of me hopes our story isn’t over.