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I point down the trail and he grimaces before calling to his team.

“Excuse me!” one of the reporters calls out, her microphone extended. “Our sources tell us that you found the body of a United States Representative in the park. Can you comment on it?”

“He’s not a body,” I tell her. “He’s a man and he’s breathing.” This town is probably riddled with moles dying to call the news outlets just to spill the tea.

The ambulance guy and I exchange a look of disgust. Sources, my ass. Informants, more like.

“This way,” I tell the EMTs, and start up the trail. The gurney rattles behind me. It’s like a grueling forced march. With every step I can feel the heat even more intensely, and my concern is mostly about Bastien. How is he coping? Is he freaking out? What if this man dies on him?

“Bastien?” I call when I recognize the rock.

“He’s still alive.”

I stumble off the trail. Bastien has created a makeshift shelter using sticks and his T-shirt to provide better shade. The man is semi-conscious now, making confused sounds as Bastien holds a water bottle to his lips, allowing tiny sips, and he looks up at me with relief in his eyes.

The paramedics rush toward the fallen man but I keep my sights on Bastien. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his hair, kissing the side of his neck. He’s shaking. Not a little. It comes through him in waves and it doesn’t stop when I get my arms around him. His bare skin is slick with sweat and dirt, but throughout this, he’s been as solid as a rock: calm, dependable, and focused. My heart brims with pride.

The truth is that I was already crushing on him hard. Now let’s just say that I’ve got even more skin in this game than I did this morning. “You did great,” I murmur to him.

He smiles wanly and pulls on his shirt as they lift the man onto the stretcher. Bastien leans against me.

“Even though I love the sound of it, can we skip the horses and have ice cream instead?” he asks me.

I kiss the top of his head. “You got it, baby boy,” I answer, not caring that we’re in public.

One of the paramedics looks at us. “You two probably saved his life.” She looks up at the sky. “Another hour in this heat, and we’d be having a different conversation.”

Bastien’s hand finds mine as we follow the stretcher back to the trail. I can feel him trembling slightly, the adrenaline crash hitting him now. We watch as they load the elderly man into the ambulance, attaching monitors and starting an IV.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, giving his hand a squeeze. “You still want that ice cream?”

He nods. There’s dirt on his glasses and he hasn’t noticed it, which is how I know how far gone he is. “More than sex. And considering who I’m talking to, that’s saying something.”

I laugh and wrap my arm around his shoulders, pulling him away from the commotion. We head toward where I parked the motorcycle. A small crowd has gathered. There are other hikers and park staff murmuring as they watch the emergency vehicles. And there are reporters, already broadcasting. I catch Bastien looking at them and squeeze my arm around him. “We’ll be long gone before they realize we were the ones who found him, baby boy.”

But we’ve barely reached the bike, and I’ve just handed Bastien his helmet, when a woman in a bright blue pantsuit spots us and makes a beeline in our direction, microphone in hand. “Excuse me! I’m Alyssa Bentham from WWAH News. Were you gentlemen the ones who discovered this man?” she asks. “We saw you with the paramedics when we arrived.”

I stop buckling my helmet and turn. Bastien and I look at each other. He’s holding his own helmet in both hands like he’s forgotten what it’s for. He looks at the camera, and then at her, and then at me, and he doesn’t say anything. Before we’ve really made up our minds one way or the other, she’s turned back to the cameraman, speaking directly into her mike.

“A harrowing experience today at Rock Creek Park, where two hikers stumbled on Representative Raymond Kessler of Ohio, who had apparently collapsed on the trail.” She turns to us. “Can you tell us how you found the man?” She shoves the mike in front of me.

I reach down and squeeze Bastien’s hand and give a very brief account of finding him by the side of the pathway. I detail how Bastien kept him cool while I went to guide help through the park’s trails.

She switches to Bastien. “And did he recover consciousness?”

“A little bit, but not very much. I gave him water, but Levi was the one who knew what to do. I just followed orders. It was a team effort.”

“We’ve always been a great team, from the moment we met, but Bastien was totally calm when a lot of people would be losing their minds.” I kiss his forehead. “I’m so proud of you,” I murmur into his skin.

“Stay tuned to this station for more updates,” the newswoman says. “For WWAH News, this is Alyssa Bentham at Rock Creek Park.”

The camera light blinks off, and the crew moves away, leaving us suddenly alone. Bastien stares after the camera. He looks at me. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this.” He shakes his head. “I don’t like this,” he repeats.

I put my arm around his waist and pull him against me. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right. I’ve got you.”

He looks at me with open dismay. “Yes. You do.”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” I tell him.