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That doesn’t mean I don’t want to work this thing out with you—I definitely do. I’m going to do everything I can to prove how much I respect you as a person, a firefighter and the woman who turned my world on its head in bed.
But I know I tend to move too fast and smother, so I want to give you space and time. That’s why I’m saying this in a letter and not crowding you in person.
Lastly, I want to say I don’t need to fix you. There’s nothing wrong—you’re perfect as you are. In fact, I want to honor and love everything you love—including fire.
Please look out your bedroom window.
My breath sucksin and I’m already running to my bedroom and pulling open the shade.
I spot Blaze below, standing in the middle of the street, facing my window. As soon as he sees me, he strikes a match and drops it into the street.
I cover my mouth with my hand, choking on a cry.
There, in the middle of the dark, empty road, is a fire. Not just any fire—flaming words:I [giant heart] U Lia.
My vision blurs as I watch the flames curl and lick and then die out.
Blaze holds up a finger. Uses a bottle of lighter fluid to write something else and throws another match down.
Sorry,it says.
“Hey you!” One of my downstairs neighbors leans out her window. I can hear everything through the single glass pane windows in this old building. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the cops!”
I throw my window open. “It’s okay!” I open my window and yell down. “He’s with the FDNY. He can put it out.”
Blaze straightens and pulls the hem of his FDNY shirt down to display the big white logo scrawled across his massive chest. Then he turns back to me and holds up his finger one more time.
He writes again. This time:
Happy Birthday.
I pull my head back out of the window because I don’t want him to see me cry. Somehow this has turned into the worst and best birthday of my life.
When the flames extinguish, all he does is lift a hand in my direction and walk away.
He meant it about giving me space.
I can’t help but notice the gaping hole left in my chest cavity where my heart used to be. Space from Blaze feels all wrong.
So does working at the station without him.
I hate his solution.
I shut my window but stay there, forehead pressed against the glass, remembering the beautiful flames shaping my name.
He loves me.
He said so.
And how could I not believe it? He’s willing to leave his station and his crew.
For me.
And he’s not making my pyromania wrong—he gave me gifts of fire. I laugh, suddenly realizing how fabulous it is for a fire-junkie like me to end up with a guy named Blaze. It’s like fate drew us together.
Chapter 15
Lia
