Chapter Text
The alarm blared at 5:32 a.m.
I was already awake.
I'd been lying in my bunk, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. Sleep had come and gone in pieces—just like everything else lately. I swung my legs off the cot and pulled on my uniform pants, the motions so routine they didn't need thought.
Another day. Another call. Another opportunity to pretend I was fine.
We were first on scene—a two-car collision with minor injuries. I crouched next to an elderly man who kept apologizing for driving through the light. I smiled, calmed him down, I moved so Hen could check for fractures. My hands moved with practiced ease as I helped the other bystanders. Muscle memory. Training. Experience.
But not heart. Not today.
Because my heart? It was somewhere in Texas. With him.
"Buck, you okay?" Hen asked, wiping her hands on a towel as we loaded gear back onto the truck.
"Yeah," I said, too fast.
She frowned but didn't press. Hen was smart like that—knew when to ask, and when to just watch.
Back at the station, Chimney passed me a coffee without a word. I nodded my thanks and took a seat at the kitchen table. Maddie was there too—my sister, always perceptive. She looked up from her tablet and studied me.
"You haven't smiled once today," she said casually.
"I'm tired," I muttered.
"You're always tired lately," Chim added.
I didn't respond. I just sipped the coffee, letting the bitter taste distract me from the buzzing in my pocket.
Again.
Eddie calling.
My screen lit up with his name, his picture—With Chris beside him. A picture I saved during Christmas two years ago before I had come to these serial feelings I was having. Like I didn't secretly know I was in love with not only him but his kid. It pissed me off. I flipped the phone over without answering.
Maddie noticed. Of course she did.
"He's called three times today," she said softly.
"He's settling in. Probably just wants to show me his new backyard or something," I said flatly.
"No," Maddie replied. "He wants to talk to you."
I stood up too fast, the chair scraping against the floor.
"I've got cleaning to do," I lied, already heading toward the fire trucks.
Except the fire trucks were spot less thanks to Robbie. I just needed space.
I sat down in the passenger seat , rested my head against the wheel, and closed my eyes.
Eddie had been gone for six weeks.
Six weeks since he packed up and moved to El Paso to be closer to his family. Six weeks since I took over his place. Six weeks since Eddie and I stood by his truck, awkward silence hanging between us, and I wish I had known about my feelings. I wish I had said it then maybe just maybe he would have stayed. Or asked me to come with him.
But after that night with Tommy. Which confirmed that I was in love with my beta friend.
I wasn't the best liar and Eddie knew me like the back of his hand. He would know something was up.
That I looked at him with heart shaped eyes instead of how a best friend should be.
And now he kept calling. Trying to talk. Trying to stay close. And I couldn't do it. Couldn't pretend it was all the same when it wasn't.
Another call buzzed through. FaceTime this time. He was persistent.
I stared at the screen. At the familiar name.
Answer it, a voice in my head urged. Just talk to him. Even if it hurts.
I hesitated.
And then, finally, I hit accept.
The screen lit up, and there he was—Eddie Diaz, sitting on his new porch, sunlight warming his face, the faint sound of wind chimes behind him.
"Hey," he said, smiling. But the smile faltered when he saw me.
"Buck..." he said gently. "Talk to me. Please."
My throat tightened.
I'd gone through fire, collapse, and chaos. But this?
This felt like the bravest thing I'd have to do.
I swallowed hard and looked into the screen.
"Hey, Eddie," I whispered back.