Page 36 of Falling For Alaska

“Jack,” she murmurs, “You can’t live your life for someone else.... Even if that’s what your dad wanted.” Since he passed, all I could think of was the police academy. I’ve been a patrol officer for a while now, and the next logical step is sergeant. It never occurred to me that I could become anything else.

“I just… I just want to do th-the right thing. Only no matter what I do, it always b-backfires.”

“You protect people,” she says softly, a balm to my wounds. “You’re a good man, Jack. I’ll stand by that. When I saw you at the supermarket, the way you took charge and made sure everyone was safe,” digging her teeth in her lower lip, “Your stutter didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t now. You’re…brave. I wish, I wish I was more like you.”

“Y-you know why I was that calm under pressure th-that d-day?” I ask, letting out a shaky breath. “’Cause I felt your presence right-right behind me. I swear, I didn’t even need to turn to see you. I j-just knew.” She frowns, her hands returning to mine, our fingers interlacing, a bridge between two wildfires eager to meet.

“I-I calmed you down?” she asks.

“You did.”

“But—”

“You make whatever m-makes me this way go away. You make it b-b-better, Alaska. Even if I still st-stumble on words, it bothers me less when I’m w-with you. Look—” I let out a rough chuckle, “when I passed your door, I was overwhelmed as hell, and you just…I don’t know…” Her eyes widen, watching me with wonder. “You just m-made it all go away.”

“Jack—”

“No. I can’t hear you say one more t-time that you’re not worthy.” I clear my throat, my heart hammering against my ribs, warning me about the words I’m about to let out, the ones that have been chained inside me for weeks. “I want t-t-to try,” I tell her. “This.” I glance down at our hands, my voice hoarse, the words heavy and real.

“You’re going away soon,” she murmurs, her big eyes glassy with tears I can’t quite read.

“In t-ten months,” I remind her, and myself.

What am I doing? Why am I playing with fire here?

Instead of following logic, I look at her, hungry, desperate for anything she’s willing to give me. Even if I can’t have her heart, then I’ll settle for the crumbs of it.

“A lot can happen in ten months,” I murmur.

Alaska

There’s no more ice-cold blood in me. It’s been replaced by a boiling, hot, crimson liquid, flushing my cheeks and warming my belly with butterflies. So many butterflies, I’ve never experienced that before.

A lot can happen in ten months.

I hold my breath, his body so close I want to nestle in the crook of his neck and stay there forever. His jacket is damp against my fingers, the scent of rain and mint clinging to the fabric. Beneath it, I can feel the rise and fall of his chest, slightly uneven, like he’s trying to control his breathing. I lift my gaze, and his golden stubble catches the dim light, the roughness of it tempting me to brush my fingertips over his jaw. His lips are slightly parted, his breath warm against my skin, tinged with something crisp and cool, gum maybe, or the lingering trace of toothpaste. Whatever it is, I wish I could taste it.

“Jack…” I whisper, as if I had any right to claim his name. My voice is barely a murmur, but it carries between us, charged with the danger of unspoken wants. His gaze darkens, flickering to my lips, his own pressing together as if he’s trying to keep himself in check. Only I see the way his throat bobs, the way his hands tighten slightly against my face as he cups both sides of my jaw, the motion running slightly on my neck and dropping goosebumps all over my skin as a result. The space between us sparkles, turns thick, something I barely understand but feel all the way down to my toes.

“Alaska…” His voice is hoarse, rasping against me like a match striking, and I feel the heat of it everywhere. Slowly, we lean in, both of us, drawn by something bigger than reason. My fingers tighten around his thick forearms, my pulse hammering in my ears. His lips hover just above mine, one breath away from a moment I know I’ll never come back from-

A sharp crackle splits the air.

“Unit 24, we have a family stuck in their home, 579 Farren Road. Respond ASAP,” someone’s voice grumbles. The murmur of a curse breaks our spell as Jack leans back, his hand leaving my face, the loss like water vanishing down the drain, leaving me cold and alone. He sighs, his amber pupils going back and forth between my gaze and my lips, a low growl of frustration coming out of him as he snaps himself back to reality. I swallow the lump in my throat as disappointment settles deep in my chest.

Did I really want that to happen?

Why am I so disappointed?

“Go,” I whisper. He exhales sharply, frowning like this is physically painful to him, and then reaches for his radio.

“21 to 24, on my way,” he rasps, standing and towering above me. “Don’t leave your house,” he commands me without a single stumble.

“I won’t,” I answer instinctively.

“Your area should be okay, b-but if you need me, just-just call the station, I’ll be there in a…in a heartbeat.”

“I will.”