catch me if you can

“I’ve made a huge mistake.”

“I’ll say. If you’d let me drive, we’d already be there by now.”

“You know my car can’t handle the way you drive,” John says as he tightens his grip on the wheel and carefully steers around the Prius going thirty-five on the freeway.

“Well, I can’t handle the way you drive,” Molly says, voice getting a little higher, a little pitchier, as other cars fly past them. “We’re going to lose them!”

“It’s not like we don’t know where they’re going,” he argues as he catches sight of the flashing lights again.

“That’s not the point,” she says acidly, still leaning so far forward that her nose is practically smudging the windshield. “If we don’t get there in time, he’ll be sent out on another call and we’ll miss him. Again.”

“You know that someone was actually hurt, right? That Mrs. Hubert may have broken her hip?”

“I know,” Molly says, waving her hand impatiently. “And I hope she’s okay. You know I’ll bring her a casserole as soon as she’s back. I’m not a monster.”

“I just need to know that you know that 911 is not a matchmaking service.”

“As long as they keep sending Hot Paramedic to the scene, I’m not going to believe you.”

John sighs and holds the wheel steady, signaling and changing lanes and spotting his opening to the exit half a mile away.

“I’m telling you,” Molly continues, “this is fate. Fate, John Baxter. Hot Paramedic has returned to the stage for another compelling performance of ‘Savior with the Dark Curls’ in the nighttime fantasies of Apartment 42.”

“I should never have promised to drive you wherever you need when we moved out here. This is the third time that we’ve chased an ambulance in the hopes that we get the name of the hot paramedic who’s been saving our neighbor’s lives for the past month.”

“Don’t call him that like it’s not capitalized. He’s Hot Paramedic, and I’ve seen him outside the building before.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“At Marley’s.”

“When?”

“What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? Last week. And before you ask what, he ordered a cruller and a small coffee with a splash of cream.”

John bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Molly doesn’t notice. She does.

“See? Fate. Who else goes to Marley’s for a cruller?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I’m just saying,” she says, “if we can just track him down and get his name…”

“You know this is actually illegal, right? Chasing ambulances?”

Molly rolls her eyes. “Yeah, if we were lawyers.”

John looks at her pointedly.

“Trying to find clients,” she adds with more eye rolling. “I’m not, so we’re not actually ambulance chasers. And it’s not like you’re driving fast enough to keep up with them for any other kind of chase to happen.”

“Sorry that I value my license and my life.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Did you know,” John says, “that you’re one of the few people I know who actually speaks in italics? Like, I can hear the words go sideways when you talk.”

“And did you know that the only thing standing in the way of true love is your atrocious driving?”

“It’s moments like this that I wonder if the hugest mistake I’ve ever made was actually talking to you at lunch that first day of school.”

“Nope. Hugest mistake was when you bought those salmon cargo shorts because the guy at Abercrombie smiled at you and said it was your color.”

John groans and eases the car on the offramp. “I haven’t even thought about those shorts in years.”

“For good reason,” Molly says firmly. “They were terrible.”

“Huge mistake.”

“HUGE,” she agrees. “Take Miller Court instead of Jimenez. Lunchtime traffic always makes the lights crazy.”

By the time they’re pulling into the hospital parking lot, Molly is tapping her toes and fingertips with such ferocity that John’s heart has picked up the rhythm. When the ambulance came for Mrs. Hubert and Molly yelled at him that they needed to go right now to follow that siren, he hadn’t really thought about her motivation. It was only when they were two lanes deep in the freeway and she started talking about love and fate and the Hot Paramedic that he knew he should have stayed home with the cat.

“So,” John says slowly, “what now?”

Molly’s already unbuckled and halfway out of the car. “We find Hot Paramedic.”

Her door slams shut while his head is still spinning, and it’s only her walking toward the building that things kick back into gear. He starts freaking out — flaps his hands at the seatbelt, manages to tangle one of his arms in it as he pulls out the key and checks for his wallet at the same time. He stumbles out of his seat and just barely manages to close the door and lock it without toppling over on the pavement.

“Molly,” he calls, but she keeps walking. “Molly? Molly. MOLLY!”

He jogs to catch up with her, tripping twice before he manages to catch her by the elbow.

“Molly,” he says seriously, “you can’t just walk into a hospital and ask someone where hot paramedics are.”

“You’re right,” she agrees. “Because I’m looking for the Hot Paramedic.”

John groans. “Please, please, please don’t do this. It’s insane.”

Molly whips around and glares at him. “Insane? No. You know what’s insane? You —” she pokes him in the chest “— wasting time mooning over a guy who smiled at you once over a neighbor in a neck brace. He’s come to our building five times now, and every time you talk about how much you want him but not once have you had the balls to walk up to him and say, ‘Hi. I’m John Baxter and I’d like to make out with you in the back of your emergency vehicle.’”

“That’s highly frowned upon, actually.”

Molly’s eyes go wide and John feels the blood drain from his face. The last time he heard that voice was just before Mrs. Hubert was carried off. Which means…

John looks over Molly’s shoulder to find the beautiful, perfect, slightly sweaty face of Hot Paramedic.

(He’d consider faking a heart attack just to get out of this conversation, but he’s pretty sure that might make the situation worse.)

“You’re from Bramblewood, right?” Hot Paramedic asks, glancing between them. “The apartments? I’ve seen you there a few times.”

“Yeah,” Molly says, holding out her hand. “Molly Li. I work at Hall and Sinclair’s.”

“One of those lawyers, huh?” Hot Paramedic says, grinning and shaking her hand. “Impressive. Surprised our paths don’t cross more.”

“I’m very ethical,” she says primly, and John shakes his head. “This is my friend…”

“John Baxter, I presume,” Hot Paramedic says, his grin widening and eyes sparkling. “The one with the ambulance fantasy.”

“That’s not actually my fantasy,” John says, and immediately regrets it. He squeezes his eyes shut as Molly tries to smother her giggles.

“It’s nice to meet you, John,” Hot Paramedic says, holding out a hand, and John shakes. “I’m Hector. Hector Rivera.”

Hot Paramedic — Hector is all strong lines and warm colors, and though John does his best not to openly stare, Hector runs his hand through his thick curls, accentuating the line of his bicep against the rest of his muscled body. John is practically drooling until he realizes his mouth’s actually open and mentally shakes himself. Keep it together.

“John’s a teacher who loves Legos, line dancing, and cats,” Molly pipes up. “And he’s single.”

John glares at his friend, who shrugs. He looks back at Hector, already prepared to apologize and say, quite firmly, that he did not ask Molly to say that, only to find the paramedic’s gaze traveling over him appreciatively.

“Looks like the Legos and line dancing are really working for you,” Hector says with a wink.

“I’m gonna go find Mrs. Hubert,” Molly says, taking a step toward the door. “See how she’s doing.”

“We just brought her in,” Hector points out. “You’ll be waiting for a while.”

“Maybe I’ll just… knock on a few doors, see if anyone needs a lawyer…”

While Hector laughs, Molly looks over his shoulder and waggles her eyebrows at John. He blushes, shaking his head with just the beginnings of a smile, as she gives him two thumbs-up and disappears into the hospital. John rubs the back of his neck and glances back at Hector, only to find the paramedic smiling back at him.

“Sorry about that,” John says. “She’s my best friend. And she’s kind of a lot.”

“Don’t apologize,” Hector says cheerfully. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you since we saw Mr. Peters two months ago.”

John stares, mouth open in soft awe. “You… you’ve been trying to talk to me?”

Hector nods, eyes bright. “I’ve been doing this job for a while now and I still haven’t figured out a good way to flirt over a stretcher and an oxygen mask. Kate, my partner, the one who was there earlier, she’s been nagging me for weeks now to knock on every door until I find you. I told her that might be a step too far. I just keep hoping I’ll bump into you somewhere around the neighborhood. I live on Jay,” he adds.

“Seriously?” John asks with a slow-blossoming grin. “This whole time you’ve been two streets away.”

Hector shrugs. “Funny how things work out.”

“Fate,” John says, thinking about Molly’s freeway monologuing.

Hector bites his lip, and John has a sudden urge to simply press himself against this man and never let him go. And even though he’s never fantasized about making out with anyone in an ambulance, ever since Molly mentioned it, he kind of can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to try it — try anything and everything — with Hector.

Which is crazy. He didn’t even know Hector’s name ten minutes ago, but somehow, as they’re looking into each other’s eyes, it feels like this is exactly where he’s meant to be.

“Look,” Hector says suddenly, and John takes a sharp breath. “I know this is going to sound crazy, and it’s probably a huge mistake because we barely know each other, but can I take you out to dinner sometime? Or a cruller at Marley’s?”

“Yes,” John says before Hector can take a breath or say anything else. “Yes. Please. Both. Yes.”

Hector is beaming. “Great,” he says, and John’s suddenly breathless with anticipation. “Let me give you my number.”

John hands over his phone and watches Hector enter his contact info. He shivers when their fingers touch as Hector hands it back. “Thanks.”

“Text me,” Hector says.

“I will.”

“Promise?”

It’s the quiet vulnerability in Hector’s face that makes John do it — he steps too close for nearly-strangers, body against body, one hand at Hector’s waist, the other twisted in his curls, and kisses him.

When he pulls back, Hector’s eyes are shining wide and dark and John blushes. “I swear,” he says, “I don’t do that to just anyone.”

“Thank God,” Hector says, and pulls him in for another kiss.

“Honestly,” Molly says a few minutes later when she steps outside, “it takes two months for you to learn each other’s names but after ten minutes alone, you’re making out in front of the hospital.”

John ducks his head and Hector grins, about to say something when Kate, back in the ambulance behind them, hollers, “Hec! We’ve got a call!”

“And to think,” Molly says cheerily to John as Hector waves at his partner, “you thought this was a bad idea.”

“Maybe you should chase ambulances more often,” Hector suggests with a wink.

“Maybe,” John smiles. “Worked out okay this time.”

“Come on, lover boy,” Kate yells, “we’ve got to go!”

Hector leans close for one last goodbye, his grinning lips brushing John’s cheekbone.

“Catch me if you can.”