“You’ll just be outside for a little while,” he said, ignoring her plea. “They’ve shut off the main line, and they’re setting up the ventilator fan to exhaust the house. As soon as it’s clear, you can come back inside.”
Instead of answering, she drew her legs to her chest and rested her cheek on her knee. How could she explain the mind-erasing terror that took over when she thought about stepping outside? It wasn’t rational, wasn’t logical, but it was real, and it just might kill her and Ian.
“Jennings is worried about you. He wants you out of here, too.”
Just the mention of Chris broke something inside her, and she started to cry. Daisy tried very hard to keep silent, grateful for the muffling effects of the door between them. She’d been so proud of her baby steps, of the unlocked inner door and of staying conscious despite her glimpse of the outside. It had given her hope that she’d eventually get better.
Now, though, curled in a ball and sitting in a dark gym, a dead bolt and a rack of weights separating her from the fireman who was risking his life trying to save her, she didn’t see how she’d ever be worthy of someone like Chris, a hero who ran toward danger. All she did was hide from imaginary bogeymen.
“Daisy? You still conscious in there?”
If she didn’t talk, he’d think she was passed out—or dead. “Yeah.” It was impossible to hide the tears in her voice, and she flushed with that additional shame.
“Did you hear me before? About Jennings?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her cheek on the knee of her pants. “He deserves better.”
There was a pause, and then he groaned. “Are you serious? You’re going to make me do this?”
“Do what?”
“Have this conversation.”
“What conversation?”
“This conversation. The one where you make something simple complicated.”
“What do you mean?” She scooted over next to the door so she could lean against the wall and hear Ian better. As much as she didn’t want him to risk his life by staying with her, it was so comforting to have him there.
“If you want to be together, be together. Stop making it so complicated.”
“Does Rory make things complicated?” Daisy knew she was changing the subject, but she didn’t want to talk about Chris, not when she was on the verge of being blown up and never seeing him again. The thought made her want to bawl like a baby, and she’d just managed to control her tears.
“Nope.” His tone was positively smug. “That’s one of the reasons I’m marrying her.”
“Marrying her?” she echoed. “You two are engaged? Congratulations!” It occurred to her that it was a strange conversation to be having in a gas-filled house while barricaded in her training room. The fear eased when she talked to him, though.
“Don’t tell her yet,” he warned as his radio chattered faintly in the background. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“Surprise? You’re not going to put the ring in her pulled pork at Levi’s or something equally cheesy and public, are you? Because I think Rory would hate that. Plus, she might break a tooth or swallow it or something. I’ve never understood how burying a diamond in food is romantic.” Granted, all of her experience with proposals had been from watching TV or movies or reading about them in books.
“No.” By the heaping amount of defensiveness he managed to pack into that one-word denial, Daisy was pretty sure he’d been planning something close. “Nothing like that. I just want it to be a surprise.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Thanks.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “Do you seriously think that Jennings isn’t full-out panting for you?”
The change of topic threw her. “What? No, I…I mean…what?”
“Because if you even glance in his direction during training, he starts flexing.”
“He does not!” She choked on a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want to have this conversation.”
His sigh was so exaggerated that she could hear it through the door. “I’ll suffer through it, as long as you and Jennings finally get together and stop with the fake just-friends deal.”
“It’s not fake!” When he didn’t respond, it was her turn to sigh. “We are friends. And Chris wants to be more than friends.”
“Finally,” Ian muttered just loud enough for her to hear.
Letting her head tip back against the wall, she ignored his comment. “I want that, too—so much—but I can’t do that to him.”
“Do what to him?” He sounded cranky. “See, this is why I hate these conversations. There are always these vague reasons why you have to make things complicated. Things are not complicated. You want him. He wants you. Therefore, you f—uh, date.”
“Ian!” A flare of anger burned through her misery. “I just beat you up for trying to save my life. I’ve locked myself in a room in a house that could explode at any second, and you think I should inflict this mess on Chris? He doesn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t beat me up.” Of course that was what he focused on. “It was one lucky hit that took me by surprise.”