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He kisses my forehead over and over again, smoothing down my hair with shaking hands. “I know, baby, I know. But you scared the hell out of me—I saw you lying on the grass—Fuck,” he curses, flitting his gaze away from me. “I thought you were dead.” His words come out as a broken rasp, ripping right into my heart. I didn’t mean to scare him. I couldn’t do anything. I had to help him.

“He’s okay?” I ask again, referring to the baby.

“Yeah, baby, they’re taking him to the hospital.”

He steps aside, still holding my tired body, one arm under my shoulders and the other under my knee, lifting me into his arms. My head lolls tiredly against his chest. He carefully places me down on the gurney. Something is covering my mouth, providing me with more air. God, I never missed air as much as I did tonight. My eyes grow heavy, and a hand slips into mine, squeezing gently.

“Cars,” I call out softly, becoming more exhausted with each second.

“I’m here. I won’t leave. I promise.” Soft lips meet my cheek, followed by a whisper.

“I won’t leave you. I will never leave you.”

“You have no idea how angry I am right now.” I recognize Carson’s voice over the pounding in my head, the unfamiliar sound of machines beeping, infiltrate my ears. Groaning, I open my eyes. I’m met with Carson’s worried face. I blink until I can see him clearly. Carson sags, his head drops to his chest, lips tilting up in a relieved grin. I try to sit up, but my body won’t cooperate. It feels like I’ve done a triathlon. I have never done one, but I’m pretty sure this is how I would feel afterward, bone tired but still feeling so incredibly accomplished. I saved a baby last night. I ran into a burning building to save a baby.

Holy fuck.

I can’t say I have ever done that before, but if I had to do it again, I would, one hundred percent. I would rather have a pounding headache, lungs that feel like they were set on fire, and eyes that were burning so bad I could barely see, than an innocent baby would lose his life. I could not imagine that, ever. If I have the opportunity to help, I’ll help. I’m pretty sure it has to do with what happened to Micah and me, I felt so guilty that I couldn’t save him even though I was only a few feet away from him. It took me a few years to realize there was nothing I could have done. Since then, I have made it my mission to help the people I could help. If that means running into a burning building, then that’s what I will do. “Cars,” I croak. My throat feels a lot better than last night, but still nowhere near what I would like. Carson curses then stares up at the ceiling. His cellphone creaks in his tight grip.

“Cars?”

He blows out a harsh breath. His eyes are flooded with anger and relief. “Hi,” he says but doesn’t continue. His phone creaks again. I’m surprised it hasn’t broken yet. Carson’s jaw is tighter than I have ever seen. His body sways and trembles.

“Are you okay?”

Carson laughs without a trace of humor. “I’m great.” He bites his lip so hard he might break the skin. Is he angry? Is that why he is almost crushing his phone? I thought he knew why I did it.

I had to, and I thought he understood that. “Are you…angry?””

He snorts again, breathing in deeply.

“I thought you knew why I did it.”

“I know why you did it.”

“Then why are you angry?” He pulls on the strands of his hair. Hard. His burning gaze meets mine. He looks furious. It reminds me of the day when he found out Kane laid his hands on me. He has the same look in his eyes. “Why am I angry?” he mutters under his breath. He chuckles again, the same humorous laugh as before. “Do you want to know why I am angry, Alexis?” he asks calmly.

Alexis. He barely calls me Alexis. I know why he’s angry. He didn’t like that I ran into something dangerous without thinking it through. But I want him to say it. I need him to say it. I don’t answer his question, only raise my eyebrow at him. He throws his hands in the air.

“You ran into a burning building!” he yells angrily. “Wearing nothing but short pajamas. You didn’t cover your mouth. You ran in there like you didn’t have a care in your life.” He’s breathing heavily now.

“I had to,” I say, the same words I said to him last night.

“Had to?” he breathes. “I thought you were dead. We got the call, and I heard the address, and all I could think about was that you were safe. That the fire wasn’t at your house so you would be safe. And then you called and told me you were planning on running into that building. I felt like my heart was about to rip in half. We showed up minutes later. And you were lying there…” He clears his throat. “You were lying there, still, so incredibly still, and I thought you were dead, and I couldn’t think. I was standing there thinking that the one person, the one person who saw me as me, who saved me from myself, was dead. And I couldn’t breathe. I could do nothing but stand there, and I know that there was a fire and they needed my help, but I couldn’t do anything but stare at your still body.”

His eyes meet mine again. The angry look has faded away, now filled with devastation. His bottom lip trembles. My heart pounds in my chest. He thought I was dead. I open my mouth to say something. I don’t know what, but anything to help ease his pain.

“Then, you coughed, and it was the best sound I’ve heard in my entire life. It felt like I got a second chance. I don’t remember running or pulling you against me. I just knew I needed you safe. I needed to hear you breathe, to feel that you were okay. You were only asking about the baby and—fuck. It felt like my heart was beating right out of my chest. You ran into a burning house, and the only thing you were worried about was the baby…You’re always thinking about others, always helping everyone, but you don’t care about what happens to you. But I do, okay? The fact that you didn’t think about putting yourself in danger angers me. I know why you had to do it. And I understand that, but god baby, I thought I lost you.” A tear rolls down his cheek.

“All I could think about was that I lost you…and I didn’t get the chance to tell you all the amazing things about yourself, or about the things you do to me without knowing it. How I wake up every morning excited to see you, that I’m lucky enough, I’m the person you’re spending your time with. That I never got to tell you how much you mean to me and ho—”

“Carson,” I call out, interrupting his confession. He stares at me, swallowing hard. I hold out my sweaty hand, my heart beating a hundred miles an hour. “Come here.”

His eyes gleam with uncertainty, then slowly he takes a step forward, then another and another. When he’s in reach, I grab his hand and pull him down, his face a few inches from mine. His eyes widen, and then I do what I’ve wanted to do for ages.

I press my mouth against his.

Chapter Nineteen