Page 72 of Fighting For You

She took the key and laughed. I leaned across the console and kissed her.

I bought her a cabinet for her clothes and made space in the bathroom for her things beside the sink. She arranged everything neatly on the left side, her bottles and jars lined up smallest to tallest, her toothbrush in the holder next to mine. My apartment had looked the same for years. Same towel on the same hook, same razor on the same shelf, everything in its place because nobody else was ever there to move it. Now her lotion sat next to my aftershave and her hair ties collected on the counter by the mirror, and the whole place looked like someone actually lived in it.

The ordinary things were the ones that surprised me. Brushing our teeth side by side at the bathroom mirror. Nora trimming my hair over the kitchen sink with a towel across my shoulders, her fingers tilting my chin to check the line. Sitting behind me on the edge of the tub while I shaved, wiping the excess foam off my jaw with her thumb. Falling asleep on the couch with her legs across my lap and the TV still on. Showering together on mornings when neither of us had anywhere to be.

I didn't know how much better life could be when you shared it with someone who was just as happy to be in it with you.

On days when Nora was off and I was on shift, she'd be waiting at the door when I got home. I'd hear her footsteps the second my key hit the lock, and then the door would open and her arms would be around my neck before I got my boots off. She kissed me like she'd been counting the hours, and some shifts I'd been counting them too.

"I have something for you."

She pulled back and held out a small box. Inside it was a necklace. A black stone, pointed and polished, set in silver on a thin chain. She held up her wrist. A bracelet with the same dark stone sat against her skin.

"What's this?"

"Black tourmaline." She took it out of the box and held it up between us. The stone caught the overhead light and gave back nothing. It was dark all the way through. "It's a protection stone. It absorbs negative energy and shields whoever's wearing it from harm. I have one and you have one."

I took it from her and turned it over in my hand. The stone was smooth and heavier than it looked.

"I went to pick up new towels yesterday and there was a crystal shop two doors down. I saw these in the window and couldn't leave without them." She watched me hold it. "I read that firefighters keep something on them for protection when they go on calls. I thought we should have something like that too."

She was smiling at me with her whole face, the same expression she got when she talked about natal charts, mercury in retrograde, whatever the moon was doing that week. I didn't believe in any of it. But Nora believed enough for both of us, and I wasn't going to be the person who dimmed that.

"I love it."

I unclasped the chain, put it around my neck, and let the stone settle against my chest. It sat just below my collarbone, cool against my skin.

Nora reached up and touched it with her fingertips. She looked at the stone against my chest, then up at me.

I pulled her in and kissed her.

Travis was on his knees scrubbing the base of the toilet when I leaned against the bathroom doorframe.

"Need a hand?"

"Absolutely not." He didn't look up. "A bet's a bet, Sullivan. I lost fair and square."

Wyatt was beside him wiping down the sink. He'd volunteered to help, which was the most Wyatt thing he could have done. Travis had been on my bathroom duty for two weeks now and hadn't complained once. He just showed up with the cleaning supplies and got to work like it was part of the job.

"So." Wyatt wrung out the rag. "How's everything been? With Nora moved in?"

"Good." I crossed my arms. "Really good."

I skipped the part about how having someone to come home to changed how I moved on calls. I was more careful now. Not because Thompson told me to. Because there was a woman at home who would hear my key in the lock at the end of every shift, and I wanted to be the one turning it.

"That's great, man." Travis sat back on his heels. "I'm happy for you. Seriously." He tossed the sponge into the bucket. "I haven't had much luck in that department myself."

Wyatt looked at me. I looked at Wyatt.

"Travis," Wyatt said. "You don't notice when a girl likes you. You're friendly with everyone. You can't tell the difference."

Travis stopped. "What do you mean?"

"He means there have been girls interested in you that you didn't pick up on," I said.

Travis looked between us. "How many?"

"A lot," Wyatt and I said at the same time.