Page 5 of Up In Flames

Will

O ren had his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to keep himself in one, solid piece. While I didn’t have all the answers for him, not having been there when the accident occurred, I could tell him what I knew.

“By the time I got there, you’d already been in and out of consciousness for a few minutes according to the witnesses.

” Talking to one of them might have given him more information, but it was also a tossup.

People didn’t always remember things the way they happened.

Coming on an accident scene was different than watching something horrible happen in front of you.

When people witnessed something unexpected like that, they weren’t always able to recall events accurately.

By the time you realized something awful was unfolding, it was already set in motion.

“Did you have specific questions, or did you want me to just walk you through it?”

Oren’s skin had lost all color, leaving him a sickly shade of gray. “I—just tell me. Please.”

His voice shook when he spoke. His eyes were glassy with tears, but he sat there, holding himself together the best he could to get the answers he needed.

I’d seen a lot of brave things in my line of work, but Oren’s determination to face a devastating memory so he could fill in the missing pieces left me feeling awed by him.

“The car you were in was badly damaged. You’d rolled over several times.” The smell of gasoline returned to me. The sound of glass crunching under my boots. “Somehow the car ended up on all four wheels, but with the damage, we couldn’t get the doors open.”

“I remember that. Being trapped.” Oren reached for his lemonade and took a tentative sip, then drank half like he’d been dying of thirst.

“Once I got you talking, you still didn’t make a lot of sense, but you stayed with me until we got you out of there.”

“There was fire.” Color hadn’t returned to Oren’s complexion, but his voice sounded steadier now. “You carried me out. Like they do in the movies.”

I watched him suck in a deep breath.

“What about my friends? Byron was in the back seat. Rita drove. I didn’t—I couldn’t—everything was so quiet. Not quiet. That’s the wrong word.” Oren ran a hand over his face.

“How much do you know about how they died?” I’d still tell him the truth no matter what, but how I told him and what I said would depend on what he already knew about the accident. I wanted to help him, not harm him further.

“They died at the scene. I didn’t ask about their specific injuries. I don’t want to know.” He sounded almost frantic. “I can’t know that. Please. Just…”

Tears filled his eyes, and he dashed them away. His gaze swept through the café, and he curled in on himself, trying to hide from view. “Did they—do you think—” Oren sucked in another shaky breath. “Did they suffer?”

Even if they’d died slow and painfully, I’d have lied my ass off to spare Oren any further pain.

“No. They wouldn’t have felt anything. It was—they were gone when we arrived.”

He let out a long shuddering breath, and I realized that he was going to break apart right in front of me. Without thinking, I got up and moved my chair closer to his. His arms were still wound around his body, and I wrapped mine around him, pulling him into a hug.

At first, he went rigid, but then he exhaled, and a choked sob came out.

I heard him struggle to get himself under control.

His breath hitched, and he sniffled as he drew all his anguish back inside him and tucked it away again.

I wasn’t sure how long I hugged him for, but suddenly he wasn’t stiff anymore.

He went pliant against me and drew in a deep breath.

Slowly, he pulled away, and I released my hold on him. Though I didn’t want to.

Stupid attraction. Oren was exactly my type. Pretty hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair. He had a strong jaw and sweet round cheekbones. Thick eyelashes fluttered, shedding salty tears that he swiped away.

“Shit. Sorry. That’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” I told him. “You went through hell, Oren.”

He sniffled and pulled further away. I watched him regain control of himself. Watched him take a few deep breaths and swipe the remaining moisture off his face. He threw walls up around himself, but they seemed unstable, like they were built on a foundation of sand.

After a moment, he lifted his gaze and met mine. “You didn’t tell me how lucky I was.”

His voice was cold and hard, like he was still trying to get his defenses back into place. “Everyone tells me that when they find out. But you didn’t.”

I took a sip of my coffee. It had started to get cold during our conversation and the time it had taken Oren to collect himself, but I’d drank plenty of cold coffee before.

“I’ve been a firefighter for long enough to know that not everyone who goes through hell feels lucky when they get to the other side.

You’re alive, and that matters. I’m glad you made it, but it can be hard to feel lucky when you lose things that are important. Friends. Family. Houses. Livelihoods.”

Oren dropped his gaze to his half-drank lemonade. He traced a finger over the condensation on the outside of the glass. “I didn’t feel lucky. I still don’t.” He shrugged. “My therapist called it survivor’s guilt.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing someone.”

He took another sip of his lemonade. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, especially not when he licked his lips after. My dick twitched at the little sigh he let out. I bit the inside of my cheek and reminded myself that I didn’t do crushes on straight men. That was only asking for trouble.

“My therapist is the only person I see lately besides people in my office.” Oren winced. “Sorry, I’m trying not to dump all my shit on you. I should go.”

“No, it’s fine.”

He had started to stand, but I put my hand on his arm and motioned for him to take a seat.

“If you wanted, the guys at the station do this big fundraiser barbeque every year, and it’s next weekend.

We host it down at Wilbur Park. There’s games and prizes and even some face painting if that’s your thing. You should come.”

Oren’s mouth twitched. “Face painting?”

“Yeah. You’d make a good tiger.”

“Are you calling me a giant pussy?”

Shock rolled through me. “No, of course not. I—you’re fucking with me.”

“Possibly.” He hid his smile behind his glass as he took another sip of his drink.

For a fleeting moment, Oren seemed unencumbered by his past. The respite from his grief was brief, but for a moment he shone, like he’d forgotten about the sadness he wore like a cloak.

I wanted to see him like this again. Crushing on a straight man was dangerous, but I couldn’t help my attraction to Oren or my bone-deep desire to make him smile again.

Even though nothing would ever become of my crush, I wanted to help him. Oren clearly needed friends. Maybe it was arrogant to think that he might need me in particular, but the idea had taken root in my brain. He’d sought me out at the pub and again at the station.

“Come to the barbeque.”

Oren hesitated. “What if they ask why I’m there?”

“You say you’re a friend of Dorsey’s. But no one will ask. They’ll sell you as many burgers as you can eat and con you into playing games. It’s a lot of fun.”

The fundraiser reminded me of some of the church functions my parents used to drag me to as a kid.

The community spirit had always been a draw for me.

As a kid, I was just happy to scarf down endless hot dogs.

I wasn’t aware of the strings that came with being part of a church community until I got older.

Much to my parent’s displeasure, I’d walked away from religion entirely. I still respected that they believed a certain way, but I didn’t. It was another thing my parents and I didn’t talk about. If we didn’t acknowledge uncomfortable things, they didn’t exist.

“You said it’s a fundraiser. Where does the money go?”

“We raise money to help people who’ve been displaced by fires.

There’s a lot to worry about when you lose everything.

Sometimes people aren’t insured. A lot of renters especially.

They’ve already lost everything, and they have plenty to worry about without stressing over money and getting their bills paid as they try to navigate the interruption in their life. ”

“That’s nice of you,” Oren said as if I was directly responsible for any of it. All I did was show up and flip burgers.

“So you’ll come. I’ll make a batch of my famous chili this year if you do.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“Only if it works.”

Oren looked at me, then looked away, then looked back at me. “Can you text me the address and the times and stuff, and I’ll think about it? I’m not exactly good company these days.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it across the table to me.

A secret thrill shot through me when I sent myself a text from his phone, connecting us.

My stupid lizard brain didn’t want to listen to the fact that Oren was straight and that I wasn’t allowed to crush on him.

Clearly I’d sent the memo, but my brain crumpled it up and threw it in the trash at the first sight of Oren.

I slid his phone to him, then pulled out mine and sent Oren a text.

I introduced myself before texting him that he was cordially invited to come to Wilbur Park and stuff his face with hamburgers, chili, and whatever else the guys saw fit to bring.

“I’d really like it if you came.” That level of honesty flayed my chest wide open.

I feared for a second that he’d look at me and know all my secrets.

I was gay. I’d turned my back on the religion I’d grown up in.

I had a crush on a straight guy and was pathetically trying to be his friend, not only because he needed one, but because all my friends were firefighters and it might be nice to have someone outside of the department to hang out with.

It also didn’t hurt that Oren was easy on the eyes.

I’d glimpsed a sliver of who I imagined the old Oren was. Someone witty and sharp who gave as good as he got.

Oren met my gaze. I couldn’t tell if he was particularly happy about his decision, but he accepted my invitation anyway.

“I’ll be there.” Oren glanced at the time. “I should get going. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thank you for this.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Oren. And I’m glad I’ll see you at the fundraiser.”

“Thanks. And, ah… yeah. I’ll be there.” He got up and it looked for a second like he was going to run straight out of the cafe, but he stopped at the counter long enough to shove a bill into the tip jar, then with a final look over his shoulder at me, he held my gaze for half a second before giving me a tight smile and then vanishing out into the street leaving me to wonder if I should’ve followed him.

Rational brain said no. Horny lizard brain said yes. I ignored horny lizard brain this time.