Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(49)

“Aw, don’t look like that, princess.” Seth grinned as he helped her down from the car. He didn’t let go of her hand once her boots were on the ground. “This place is great. Best tequila in town.”

The parking lot was littered with battered pick-up trucks. Music spilled out into the night, harsh and pulsing with a deep bass beat. Even before Seth pushed open the door, her head was pounding.

She balked on the doorstep. “Just one drink, right?”

“Just one drink,” he agreed. His hand ran down her back….and lower. “And maybe a little dance once you’re relaxed, hey?”

Her head spun like a kaleidoscope, a horrifying new pattern emerging. His hand on her butt was a signal even she couldn’t miss.

Somehow, she’d given him the impression that she was interested in him.

She jerked away from him. If he hadn’t still been holding her wrist like a manacle, she would have backed away. “Wait. There’s been some misunderstanding-”

Too late. He tugged her across the threshold, into a wall of blinding light and noise. The hot, musky fug from dozens of sweating bodies choked her nostrils. Completely disoriented, she staggered. Only Seth’s arm kept her upright.

“See?” he yelled in her ear over the din. “Just what you need. To lose yourself for a bit.”

Her head spun. The shrieking music stabbed through her head, scattering her thoughts. She clung to Seth as he steered her to a bar stool.

“P-please,” she managed to get out. “I can’t. I want to go.”

He wagged a finger in her face. “You promised me a drink, princess. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

He abandoned her in the midst of the chaos. She dug her fingernails into the wooden bar, desperately trying to cling onto her own sense of self.

The growling beat seized every bone in her body, shaking her like a snarling dog. An answering shriek built in her throat, unstoppably.

Her mind detached. With icy clarity, she knew she was about to have a meltdown. In front of Seth and all these strangers, she was going to lose control like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

They’d all see. Buck would find out. He’d fire her and fire Rory and she couldn’t stop it—

Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her together. “I have you. I have you, Edith. It’s all right.”

Rory.

Impossibly, wonderfully, Rory.

“Come on.” He lifted her clean off her feet, half-carrying her through the crush of bodies. She caught a brief, confused glimpse of Seth staring at them, a bottle in each hand, before they were out, into the clean night air.

She buried her face in his chest, drawing in great gasping breaths. His smoke-spice scent was pure oxygen in her lungs. She shook from head to toe in sheer relief.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he was saying, over and over again. His fingers tangled in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Wasn’t that what she was supposed to be saying?

Rory pulled back a little, his fingers stroking down over her cheek. He tried to tip her chin up as if to search her face, but she jerked away, hiding against his shoulder. Eyes were too much at the moment. Even his eyes. Especially his eyes.

A low growl echoed through her ribcage. “Whatever Seth said or did to scare you so badly, I swear he’ll regret it.”

She shook her head jerkily, still pressed against him. “No. Not Seth. Me. My fault.”

His hands swept down her spine in long arcs, as if she was a cat. The touch was a little too light, too tickly, to be soothing, but she could tolerate it as long as he kept holding her.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Edith,” he said. “Blaise and the others misunderstood, that’s all. And I…wasn’t there for you. We’re the ones who need to apologize, not you.”

“I do.” Her secret spilled out of her at last. “It’s my fault I didn’t understand Seth. My fault I couldn’t cope with the noise, the crowd. I’m autistic.”

He paused. “Is what I’m doing too much right now? Do you need me to stop?”

She’d told him.

And the first thing he’d said was not why didn’t you tell me or oh or that explains a lot.

But to ask what she needed.

Tears leaked out of her eyes. “No. It’s helping. Harder, please.”

His muscles tightened, holding her closer. His solid heat grounded her. His hands defined her edges, shaping her back into herself.

“I know what it’s like to have different senses, different instincts and reactions, to most people,” he murmured into her hair. “Whatever you need, I’m here. It’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t!” She gripped his arm in sudden panic. “You can’t tell anyone, Rory. Especially not Buck. He’ll fire me. And then he’ll fire you too. He said so.”

“Buck said what?” Rory sounded puzzled. Then, to her astonishment, he chuckled. “Wait. Did he tell you that if you left, I’d go too?”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his soft T-shirt.

He laughed again, low and easy. “Oh, Edith. That’s not because he’d fire me. That’s because I’d resign.”

She tilted her head up at last, focusing on his mouth. He was smiling. “What? Why?”

His thumb brushed across her own lips. His voice dropped to a soft, deep rumble. “Because I’m crazy about you. I’ll follow you anywhere, always. No matter what.”