2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

T he sirens wail as our ambulance tears through the city streets. My heart is pounding out of my chest. First day on the job, and I'm already neck-deep in chaos.

"You're going to be okay, sir," I emphatically state, my eyes flicking from the monitors beeping around me to my patient. I adjust his wires and check his pulse. "Just stay calm."

"I won't! This is it. I feel it!" He groans, his hand limply running over his chest. "I need you to promise me somethin', kid."

I swallow hard. "Anything, Mr. Nekkid."

"Call me Buck," he murmurs, shooting me a strained smile. Christ, this job is incredible. "I need you to tell my Anita I love her."

"Don't say that, Buck," I chastise, patting his hand. "You're going to be just fine."

"No." He shakes his head and falls into a coughing fit. I quickly jump up, grabbing the oxygen mask and settle it over his face, but the older man just bats it away. "Listen. If I don't make it out of this, tell her that I love her. Promise me, boy!"

This poor, poor man.

"Of course. I'll let Mrs. Nekkid know. You have my word"

"Not Nekkid. Dick."

My brows bunch. "What?"

He groans into the mask. "Never did get around to marryin' her. Name's Anita Dick. Not Anita Nekkid, like it should be." He takes a deep breath of air and sets the mask on his chest before giving me a stern, borderline terrifying look. "Listen here, boy. You ever meet someone worth keeping, you marry ‘em. Don't be an old dumbass like me."

I don't know why, but his words have my chest aching and twisting. I want that. To love someone so much, I want them by my side for life. But fuck. Sometimes it feels like it'll never happen for me.

"How will I know?" I find myself asking. "How will I know she's the one?"

He seems to consider my question for a long moment. By the time he answers, I've leaned in so close, I'm practically in his lap.

"My daddy always said there'd be a sign. For him, it was a butterfly. His momma had loved the little things. Said they were filled with magic and promises. Day he met my ma, they locked eyes, and seconds later, a butterfly landed on her cheek. He proposed that night. Were together fifty-odd years before passin'."

He blinks away tears and I quickly bat one from my cheek, my heart bleeding for the man.

"When I met Anita, she was sittin' across from me at a cafe. She was all sucked into a book, not payin' anyone a lick of attention. She went to take a bite of her muffin, not noticing a butterfly had landed on it." He smiles, chuckling to himself. "Stuck the whole damn thing in her mouth and choked. I saved her. Been together ever since."

"Then why didn't you marry her?" I blurt.

His mouth falls open and I nearly kick myself for being such an ass. Before he can respond, the ambulance slams to a halt and the front door opens before closing once more. I jump up, bending so as not to hit my head on the low ceiling. The back doors open and suddenly, the world turns back on.

Just like that—I'm no longer a kind stranger in the back of a moving vehicle, comforting a sad, stressed man. I'm Fred Bates. Twenty-year-old medical professional. First responder.

Hero .

"We've got a seventy-three year old male presenting with severe nasal congestion. Pulse is steady, vitals are good." I jump from the ambulance, passing my clipboard to the ER staff as I regale all the details I've gathered in my assessment. "He appears to be suffering from a common but dangerous illness."

Buck wails as my partner and I work with the nurses to gently transfer his gurney.

A woman in pink scrubs reads over his paperwork, her brows furrowing. She shoots me a look. "He has a cold."

I nod, shifting his wires. "Yes. I believe so."

She stares at me then flicks her gaze to Buck who's sobbing into a tissue. "Ah, yes. A man cold. I understand now. This is urgent." The nurse pats his hand. "We'll get you through this, sir." She smiles at my partner and me. "We've got this, guys. Good work"

I watch them work as a well-oiled machine to get him inside and taken care of. When they're gone, I jump back into the passenger seat of the rig and just like that, we're off again to save another life.

My hands are shaking. My heart is still racing. But I feel awake, alive. It's a heady feeling. Beside me, Stanley, my much older, more experienced partner, looks completely unperturbed.

My brows furrow. How can he be like this?

Around us, people are dying everywhere and all that stands between them and Heaven's sparkly gates, is us.

Doesn't he understand the power we hold? The pressure?

I grunt, shifting awkwardly in my seat. Maybe I shouldn't have decided to become a paramedic. What if I can't handle the heat?

If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen, dumbass.

Grimacing, I force my father's ugly voice deep down where it belongs.

The ambulance takes a sharp turn and I smash into the wall. My head snaps up and I shoot Stanley a glare. "What the hell, bro?"

He flips the emergency lights on and waggles his bushy brows at me. "What's the point of having the lights if you don't use them?"

My mouth drops open as I let out a shocked gasp. "But it's not an emergency."

"Sure it is." He scoffs and speeds up, barely clearing a yellow light. "I might die if I don't get to Sharon's Shake Shack by six."

I barely resist the urge to cry out like a little girl when he hits two wheels as he makes a hard left. "What? Why?"

He chuckles. "Linda's off at six and promised me a little mouth to south resuscitation in the bathroom."

When I do nothing but stare at the asshole, he shrugs. "She's got a friend if you want a blowie of your own." He taps his teeth as he turns into the diner parking lot. "She's ugly as fuck, but she wears dentures."

I'm practically speechless, but I manage to fumble out the words, "What does that mean?"

Stanley parks the rig and shoots me a look. "No teeth, no biting."

An involuntary shudder works its way through me, and I swallow past a lump in my throat. "Uh…"

He throws his door open, not waiting for my response. "Suit yourself. See you in thirty."

The door slams shut, and I watch him jog into the diner. Seconds later, a blonde is wrapped in his arms and they disappear beyond the window's reach.

I spend the next half an hour jacking off in the back of the rig, imagining what a pretty little gummy mouth would feel like wrapped around my sausage. I come three times, and my boner never goes down.

Fucking hell.

This is going to be a long night.