Page 17 of Burn Protocol

Elena’s eyes flicker to mine, something weary in them. I just clench my jaw and look at the man she called Torres. Without thinking, I extend my hand.

“Maya Carter. A definite rookie when it comes to firefighting, but a professional pain in the ass.”

Everyone laughs. Everyone but Elena. She just furrows her brow and keeps staring at me as if she wants to say something. When I raise my eyebrow defiantly, she closes her eyes for a moment and then turns toward the coffee machine.

“Carter, you can stay here if you like. I have to deal with paperwork.”

She pours herself a cup and moves back toward the steel stairs without so much as looking at me. I glare over at Rosa who just shrugs. Fuck.

Before Elena reaches the last step, I trail behind her. By the time I catch up with her, I am panting. How does she walk so fast? Elena turns, half annoyed, half surprised.

“What are you doing?”

“I am shadowing you, so that includes paperwork.”

“I said to stay put. Do you ever follow orders?”

Her body tenses and her eyes blaze again. The look she gives me is so intense that I physically stumble back. My back hits the wall, making me gasp. But she doesn’t ease up. She steps forward, into my space, slamming her hand against the wall behind me.

“Just because the Chief allowed this… this charade, doesn’t mean you can do what you want. There are risks.”

Her breath is hot against my cheek, making me shudder. The frustration is coiling off of her like waves crashing on the shore. My pulse quickens and my hands tremble. She really doesn’t want me here. This is never going to work. I feel a heat rise and grip my chest in an iron hold, making my eyes brim with tears.

“Don’t worry. Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

My voice comes out more strained than I like, but I push her arm away regardless. Then I turn on my heels and walk away.

“Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Maya’s voice is still echoing in my head when she pushes my hand away. I see the flash of hurt in her eyes before she turns on her heels and strides off. Fuck. I’ve gone too far. I know it.

But how can I fix this? Do I want to fix this? It’s easier to let her go. No more questions, no more risks. Just clean work. The Chief will yell— might even bench me for a couple of weeks— but it would be normal again.

So why does it feel so wrong?

“Maya,” I blurt out and push off the wall to catch up with her.

She doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t even turn around. Not until I put my hand on her shoulder and make her. Her lips are a tight line, her hands are trembling, and her breathing is shallow. I really fucked up.

“Sorry.”

I whisper, as if my mouth is not used to apologizing. I feel my cheeks burn. Great.

“I got a bit…” I pause, searching for the word.

“Carried away?” Maya offers, her eyes softening.

“I was going to say overly passionate,” I murmur.

She huffs at that and suddenly the tightly coiled feeling in my chest eases. I breathe in and grab her wrist.

“Don’t leave. Come, sit with me as I push paperwork.”

She nods, making a strand of hair fall in front of her eyes. I suppress the urge to brush it away. The fuck, Gonzales?

“We need to have a serious talk, though.”

I look at her, all business now. She is my responsibility now. Her safety is my top priority, so no more running around.