Feel the Fire (Hotshots 3)

“Yeah? You got someone back home?” Lincoln studied him carefully. “Was kind of under the impression that you and Tucker...”

“It’s complicated.” Luis wasn’t going to lie and say it was nothing, but he also wasn’t about to air any private business right here in the lobby. “And no one at home. Not for a long time now.”

Knowing how the rumor mill worked in the fire community, he added that last bit so that no one would think Tucker was his piece on the side. But saying the words made certain thoughts reappear. No one at home. He’d been perfectly fine with that reality right up until now, when he suddenly wasn’t. It was like forgetting to eat all day, then realizing he’d been starving for hours.

“Ah. Complicated sucks.” Lincoln arched his eyebrows like a guy who’d been there a time or two.

“Word.” Luis still wasn’t giving him details, but they exchanged a sort of knowing look, an acknowledgment of past battles they’d each fought, a certain mutual respect passing between them even without words.

“Been there. Fucking sucked. But I also wouldn’t change a damn thing. Sometimes complicated works out. I hope it does for you, man.” This time when Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder, it was softer, less Hulk and more understanding.

“Thanks.” They had another wordless conversation with their eyes, more of that understanding that made Luis’s throat strangely tight.

Lincoln gave him a last commiserating look before picking up his bag. “I’ll get on those names for the investigation. You have a good rest of your evening.”

“Will do,” Luis replied before heading to the parking lot even though he had no intention of having a good anything. The empty evening was merely something to be endured, a series of hours to try to avoid the urge to call Tucker. Not that he needed to call. The air base was on the outskirts of Painter’s Ridge. It was getting late. Tucker was probably already on his way home. He could simply swing by, wait for him to show up after work, and...

That was where his imagination failed him. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make things that much worse. And yet his car pointed itself toward town, not the rural highway back to his Bend hotel. He didn’t head right to Tucker either though. Instead he wandered, past the house where his family had lived. It was older now, needing new paint, and had several vehicles out front, so he only briefly paused there. So many memories. His mom was right. It wasn’t all bad. There was the tree he’d climbed so many times and his upstairs window that had once had a row of vinyl superhero decals. A dad-type guy emerged from the house, two small children trailing after him, and Luis moved on, same as the house had.

His meandering drive took him by the high school next, and there he parked, led by some weird pull to the empty bleachers where he’d spent so many hours talking with Tucker as kids. And then the newer memory of watching Tucker’s kids play. He’d felt it then, all that potential they had, not simply from their past connection, but all the present possibilities.

We’ll make it work. He’d sat right here, all those years ago, and believed that with every neuron he had. He’d known that Tucker was the one for him from that first kiss. Maybe we’re not kissing the right people. And it had been there in every kiss, but also every conversation. All the long hours talking, both recently and back then. He couldn’t walk away from that now. Somehow he’d known the second he’d turned his car toward town that he couldn’t leave without seeing Tucker one more time. They needed to talk, even if he had no clue what words to use. Maybe he could start with the big scary ones, the three they’d left unsaid even as they glowed neon-bright between them. His pulse kicked up at the very thought.

“Luis? What are you doing here?” Coming from the direction of the school, Walker climbed up the bleachers.

“Thinking.” He wasn’t going to lie to the kid, but like with Lincoln Reid, he also wasn’t pouring his heart out either. “You?”

“Dropping off some stuff Coach needed.” To his surprise, Walker plopped down next to him. “You going to go talk to Dad?”

“Maybe.” Again, he couldn’t lie, especially when he’d pretty much already decided. “Probably.”

“Why did you guys fight anyway?”

“It’s complicated.” It was the same answer he’d given Lincoln, but it came out wearier now, tinged with more frustration. They’d wasted precious days and hours.

Mouth pursing, Walker considered this for a long moment. “Is it about me?”

“You?” It hadn’t even occurred to Luis that one of the kids might blame themselves for his falling out with Tucker.