Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(40)

“What do you mean, ‘at least’?” she asked, surprised by his self-deprecating words. “You do a lot more than that. You’re one of the most valued people in the crew. No one else is a trained paramedic.”

He winced. “I’m not much of a paramedic. I only lasted three weeks on ambulance crew. I can only hope no one on the crew ever has a serious injury.”

“Well, if someone does get hurt, it’s better that we have you than no one.”

His mouth curved in a way that wasn’t quite a smile. “High praise indeed.”

With a jolt, she realized that looking in his face was like looking in a mirror. She knew that expression. From the inside.

His eyes met hers, and she realized that she was staring. She guiltily jerked her attention to the path ahead. She’d never thought that someone else could be doubting that they were good enough for the crew. Let alone Wystan.

Her heart ached for him. She wished she was better at words. She tried to imagine what Rory might say.

“No matter what else, you’re a good firefighter,” she said firmly. “You’re strong and steady, and you’re always so polite, even at the end of the day when we’re all tired and cranky. The squad is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice softening. “I truly appreciate that.”

They walked along in silence for a while. It gradually dawned on her that he kept glancing at her, as though something was preying on his mind.

“Wystan?” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah.” He hesitated. “I was actually about to ask you the same question.”

She tensed, running a quick self-check. Had her expression drifted? Had her hands slipped free of her pockets? Had she accidentally done something inappropriate? What had he noticed?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said nervously. “Nothing at all. Why would you say that? I’m fine.”

“Edith.” His mouth firmed as though he’d come to a decision. “Forgive me for mentioning it, but you are obviously not fine. As the closest thing to a medical professional that the crew has, I’m concerned about you. Long-term stress can have catastrophic consequences.”

“I’m not stressed out.” She was painfully aware of how her voice had risen, giving the lie to her words. “Really, I’m not.”

“It’s all right. I’m not trying to declare you unfit for duty or anything of that nature. It’s just…I think I know what’s worrying you.”

Her voice shot up another octave. “You do?”

Too late, it struck her that Wystan was a trained medical professional. Of course he’d recognize neurodivergent behavior. He’d probably seen right through her attempts to mask it.

“Yes,” he said, confirming her worst fear. “But I need to tell you, it shouldn’t be worrying you. You don’t have to hide it.”

That was sweet. And totally wrong. She shook her head. “No. No. I do.”

“I mean it,” he said earnestly. “Any…urges you might feel are completely natural. No one would think any less of you if you acted on them.”

Did he mean stimming? She’d endured enough disapproving stares and loud, pointed comments when she’d accidentally hand-flapped in public to know that wasn’t true.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she said desperately. “Especially not the chief. He’d fire me.”

“Mmm.” Wystan eyed her sidelong. “You’ve met Leto, on B-squad, haven’t you?”

The sudden topic jump threw her. She dredged her memory, trying to put a face to the name. “Um. He’s the guy with the shaved head and tattoos, right?”

“That’s the one. Did you know he’s Tanner’s husband?”

“No.” Though, now that she thought of it, they were usually together. “I thought they were just cabinmates.”

“They’re pretty discreet, mainly from habit. They met on the crew, but kept their relationship a secret for a long time because they were worried Buck would split them onto different squads—or even fire them—if he knew. They finally had to come clean when Tanner got promoted to squad boss. Turned out Buck had known all along.” Wystan smiled. “The way Leto tells it, Buck chewed them both out for fifteen solid minutes, calling them damn idiots for not having gotten married already. They got engaged more or less by direct order.”

“That’s a sweet story.” Edith still wasn’t seeing the connection. She was certain that neither Tanner nor Leto was autistic. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m just saying, these things happen.” Wystan gave her an indecipherable look. “No one cares what you might choose to do in your own time, as long as you can get the job done on the line.”

“Oh!” Relief rushed over her as enlightenment dawned. “You’re worried about my sex life!”

Wystan inhaled sharply, choked, and broke into a loud coughing fit. Alarmed, she started to pound on his back, but he waved her off.

“My word,” he wheezed. “And here I was tying myself into conversational knots, trying to delicately drop hints so as not to offend you.”

She shrugged. “It always seemed stupid to me, the way people tiptoe around sex. We’re both fully-grown adults. We should be able to talk openly about these things, shouldn’t we?”