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“Okay, I want you to find the tweezers, some alcohol wipes, the three-inch gauze, and some adhesive wrap.”
I guided her to the correct pockets within the duffel bag until she’d located all the items. Since it was difficult to clean and bandage the wound with only my opposite hand, we worked together. I tried not to wince as she cleaned the deep abrasion, but she must have heard my sharp intake of breath. Her touch gentled, and she quickly moved on to bandage it. The pressure from the wrap was a welcome relief.
“Do you think you need the hospital?” Her eyes met mine with the concern that had filled them since the accident.
I shook my head. “Nah. It’s just a scrape. A deep one, but it’ll be okay.”
Krystal packed everything back in the first responder bag and threw it over her shoulder before reaching down to help me up.
“Looks like you could use a change of clothes,” I said when I noticed the blood stains on her army-green pants as I rose. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. You probably saved me from something far worse. That guy was flying and didn’t seem to care at all that he almost hit us. I’m just sorry you caught the business end of a wooden stake.”
She stepped into my arms, and I wrapped them around her instinctively. My forearm stretched painfully, but I ignored it. It was worth it to hold her like this.
“I’m just glad I got to you in time. I thought I wasn’t going to.” I didn’t disguise the pain the thought caused me.
I’d seen a lot of terrible things in my time as a firefighter. There had been things no person should have to see, and injuries that I had been convinced I’d never forget. But by the grace of God, and occasionally with some help from the therapist supplied by the Firefighters Association, I managed to tuck it away and carry on.
But if Krystal had been hurt inches away, with me unable to stop it? I didn’t think I would have ever gotten over that.
I tightened my grip ever so slightly and pressed a kiss to her hair. It was so light, I didn’t think she’d notice. But her head tipped back and her eyes met mine, full of questions.
I dropped my lips to hers, a brief kiss I couldn’t resist.
Krystal froze under the contact, and I felt the wave of disappointment crash over me.
I pulled back, breaking the kiss and the embrace.
Krystal stared at my chest, her fingers to her lips. “Bryce–”
I held a hand. “Don’t. Let’s just go.” Humiliation burned in my chest, and I couldn’t even look at her, afraid I would see her response to the kiss on her face. Apathy, perhaps. Or worse–pity.
I started toward the truck. “I should go home and rest. I’ll put a call out to the squadron and have them hang the rest of the flyers.”
* * *
KRYSTAL
Bryce didn’t say a word as he drove me home.
I fidgeted in my seat, unsure of what to say. What even was there to say? It had just been the adrenaline, right? It had to be.
I couldn’t let it be more than that.
It wasn’t supposed to be real.
And I wasn’t supposed to want to stay.
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I said before I opened the door and got out.
“Same to you,” he replied. Just a hint of his normally carefree smile rested on his lips.
“I’ll see you at church tomorrow?”
He nodded, but there was surprise on his face. “You’ll be there?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Mom’s been dying to go. The doctor finally approved it. She has to sit the whole time, but that’s okay. So we’ll be there.”
