Feel the Fire (Hotshots 3)

“Damn it, Luis. I don’t want to accept that our story ends here. Again.”

“Maybe we don’t get a choice.” Tone edging toward bitter, Luis put on a shirt. “I hate being the bad guy here, spoiling the fantasy of what might be with the reality of what is.”

“You’re not the bad guy. Never. I’m not blaming you.”

“Good. I don’t want you to hate me. I want... Fuck. I want so much.” Unable to resist, he met Tucker in another hopeless kiss, falling headlong into need and regret and want and loss. But this time it was Tucker who stepped away, shaking his head.

“Go on before I drag you back to bed, which isn’t going to solve a damn thing.”

“Yeah. Damn it. I...” He trailed off because it wouldn’t be fair to say the words, not now. Not when Tucker had said his words and Luis had said other ones and now the gulf between them was oceans big. And the words, the ones that wanted so urgently to come, wouldn’t change a thing.

“Me too,” Tucker whispered as their eyes met, gazes holding, moment drawing out. They both knew it. Knew what they were losing. And it fucking sucked that the only thing left to do was collect his cat, drive away from this place one more time. Once again back here in this futile place where it wasn’t Tucker he was furious with but rather fate and a universe that would give him this but not a means to hold on to it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tucker could have sworn he didn’t sleep, but somehow it was morning and he was alone. Again. Big bed. Only himself and the scent of Luis on the pillow next to him. And regrets blanketing him, one after another. Not regret for starting something with Luis—he couldn’t bring himself to wish that, but for all the rest of it he railed against a God he didn’t talk to much these days. Clearly whatever higher power was out there either couldn’t be bothered with Tucker’s petty problems or simply didn’t care that they were getting screwed again by inescapable realities.

Also a reality? That he had to leave this bed. He could hear clanking around downstairs, and for an instant he thought maybe Luis and Blaze had come back, but then he heard the twins’ voices. He took a deep breath as he sat up and stretched. It wasn’t their fault that he’d dared to hope, even for a second. They didn’t deserve him grumpy this morning, so he pulled on clothes, headed downstairs, and tried not to look like he’d had his heart ripped from his chest last night.

“Thought you guys were sleeping at your mom’s?” He headed straight for the coffeepot, which was almost full. God bless Walker for listening to one of his many basic cooking demos. From the looks of it, they were making pancakes, every surface covered in ingredients and bowls.

“Yeah, about that...” Wade grinned at him. “We slept there. Promise. But then I had this idea of making you and Luis breakfast.”

“Not in bed.” Turning pink, Walker coughed. “Figured you’d come down when you smelled food.”

“Actually, I heard you rattling pots and bickering, but that was nice of you guys. Unexpected, but nice.” His dad senses went on red alert because chances were high that they wanted money, privileges, forgiveness, or all three.

“Is Luis sleeping in again?” Wade was cheerfully loading up the griddle with uneven circles of batter.

“No. He uh...he’s not here. Slept back at his hotel.”

“You broke up?” Frowning, Wade mopped up some batter drips. “Why’d you do that?”

“It’s complicated.” He wasn’t going to lie about breaking up, but he also wasn’t getting into it with the twins. Hell, he wasn’t able to unpack all these roiling emotions with anyone, but especially not with the kids, what with Walker dealing with his own problems with distance and all.

“I bet you can solve it. Tell me what you did, and I’ll tell you how to fix it.” Wade’s boundless confidence was at once funny and tragic because if only it were that easy.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to talk about it. Sorry.”

“I get it.” Walker laughed as he accepted a plate from Wade. “I wouldn’t take Wade’s love advice either. He’ll have you spamming Luis with relevant GIFs until he gives in and talks to you again.”

“Hey! I’ve got more game than that,” Wade protested. “He could try a funny present or—”

“No advice.” Shaking his head, Tucker had to chuckle even as his chest still felt so hollow. Bringing his coffee, he took a seat next to Walker at the breakfast bar.

“Okay, okay. I think you’re both idiots, but that’s not why we came over anyway.” Wade smiled, but Tucker’s back muscles tensed. Now they got to his ulterior motive, and lord, he hoped it wasn’t too expensive.