Dallas Fire & Rescue: Perfect Match (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Burning Lovesick Book 3) by Lyssa Layne (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Thick soot covers my cheeks and smoke burns my nostrils, but the grin on my face won’t disappear. For most, a shift that ends like this wouldn’t be considered a good day, but for me, I think of it as the greatest day ever. It’s only been a few months that I’ve been working for the New York Fire Department but I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I will smell like fire for the rest of my life and I love it.

“It’s days like these that make me consider early retirement,” Lieutenant Dan Murphy, or Murph as we all call him, grumbles under his breath but loud enough to be sure we hear him. He rubs his hand over his wavy hair, coughing as he finishes his statement. I highly doubt it’s from any smoke inhalation on the job today. The man smokes like a chimney.

Pulling off my navy FDNY t-shirt, I toss it in my locker and slap his back. “Aw, come on, Murph, you know you love it!”

“Love it? You’re crazy, proby. I’m not in my prime like you. Fighting warehouse fires for ten straight hours isn’t on my list of favorite things to do any more.”

He speaks one thing but the thrill of the fire flickers in his eyes. Murph’s not going anywhere. It’s obvious he loves the fire today as much as he did when he was my age. My smile gets bigger, knowing I’m not the only one pumped up by today’s activities. Twenty stories, fire blazing out every window, it was every fireman’s wet dream come true. The locker beside me slams shut and I look over at Patrick Doyle, a man that’s been in the department for a few years.

“What about you, Doyle? You get hard from the fire today?” I lift my eyebrows up and down, trying to break him out of his shell. In the few months I’ve been here, I have yet to hear the man speak more than a few sentences and only when he’s been asked a question.

“Something like that,” he mumbles, heading toward the shower.

I glance back at Murph and shrug. “What’s his deal?”

Murph shakes his head, taking a seat on the old wooden bench in front of our lockers and pulling out a cigarette. “Let him be, Jefferson”

Reaching in my locker, I grab my toiletries, not ready to let the subject be dropped. “Why? Is he some kind of golden child? You guys give me shit all the time, why is he exempt?”

A hand clamps down on my shoulder and squeezes tightly. I look up into the dark eyes of Salvador Naj, the biggest guy in the station. He reminds me of a contestant in a muscle man show with his near perfect physique and his tan skin. Most guys in the department, Murph excluded, are pretty fit but Naj stands over six-six, making him more than intimidating. Naj has taken me under his wing to show me the ropes. The man can be kind when he wants to and make me hate myself when my ego gets bigger than it should be.

“Drop it, Jefferson” Naj says sternly then nods toward the empty locker besides Murph. The outside says Garrity but I’ve never seen the inside. There’s a plaque downstairs dedicated to a couple Garritys but no one speaks about them. Maybe Doyle was buddies with one of them or something, who knows, but I’m sure I’ll get to the bottom of it someday.

Huffing because I’d rather them tell me the story than make me wait, I follow Doyle into the showers to wash off the hard day’s work that I proudly wear. Spinning the shower handle, I wait for the water to warm up and glance over at Patrick.

“Hey, man, wanna grab a drink?”

Patrick doesn’t even look in my direction as he shakes his head. “Thanks but no thanks.”

“Yeah, you do, Doyle. A drink with your brothers after a hard call will do you some good.” Murph speaks into the mirror instead of facing us as he washes his face. The old man never shows off his pot belly in the general showers and I think we’re all grateful for that.

Patrick glances over his shoulder at Murph then to me and shrugs. “Sure,” he mutters.

“Cool,” I respond and lift my eyebrow. “You got a girl? If not, I can introduce you to someone.”

Murph clears his throat. When I look at him, he’s glaring at me in the mirror and I nod discreetly, taking the hint. Whatever, I don’t care what Patrick Doyle’s story is. Tonight, we’re going out to celebrate because today was a good day. Today, there was fire.

 

Mariana

 

I twirl my shoulder length brunette hair around my finger, batting my eyelashes and pretending to be interested in the firefighter chatting me up. In all honesty, I probably should’ve just headed home after my double shift at the hospital but I thought a drink would help cut my nerves. I know it’s usually the doctors that get all the glory when lives are saved but doctors aren’t always the first on the scene, paramedics are. In the last sixteen hours, I’ve revived three elderly citizens, stabilized four patients going into shock, and delivered a baby before we could get to the hospital. Luckily, I don’t work for another twenty-four hours which is why I’m tolerating this macho beefcake trying to get in my pants.

Twisting my hair around my finger, I giggle and bat my eyes at him. “You really think I have the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen?”

“Yeah, baby, they’re gorgeous. Why don’t I buy you a drink and I can tell you what else I think is pretty on you?”

Beefcake drops his hand, squeezing my ass. Shocked, I jump forward, which is exactly what he wanted because we are now chest to chest. I reach behind me, removing his hand from my derriere and make an interesting discovery. I pull his hand around, holding it up between both of us.

“What about Mrs. Keefe, your wife? Aren’t her eyes pretty, too?” I narrow my eyes at the gold band on his finger.

Firefighter Keefe’s ego deflates as I’ve called him out and my smirk grows into a grin. He slinks away, as does my free drink, and I turn back to the bar to celebrate my victory alone. Men are such sleazeballs and I love it when I can prove it to their face. The bartender nods toward me to take my order but from over my shoulder someone interrupts.

“Two Sam Adams and a Jack and Coke for the lady… light on the Coke.”

I turn around, only to be face to face with another firefighter, this one much younger than Keefe and kinda hot with his spiky brown hair and deep brown eyes. His smile is slightly crooked and the dimple on his left cheek would make most women swoon, but I’m not most women. The cross necklace that hangs around his neck only draws attention to his fine physique.

“That’s kind of presumptuous of you to order for me without even asking or making an effort to get to know me, like by asking my name.” I lift my eyebrows high, waiting for his cocky response.

“Well, I saw that other guy strike out with you so I figured you didn’t want to go through all that nonsense of chatting again.” His uniform says Jefferson and judging by the lack of stripes and medals, he’s a newbie to FDNY.

“So, what?” I turn sideways, making room for him to squeeze between me and the person on the other side. “You just assume I like Jack and Coke so you order me one and think I’ll crawl into bed with you?”

Jefferson laughs and shakes his head. “I assume you really only like Jack and just order the Coke as a cover so you don’t look like a lush. If you happen to wind up in bed with me later, that’s just a bonus.”

Rolling my eyes, I pick up the fresh drink placed in front of me and take a long swig. “So, how was your shift?”

“Amazing!” His eyes twinkle as he answers. “Did you hear about the warehouse fire over in the business district?”

My stomach sinks at the thought of him, or any firemen, fighting that blaze. My rig wasn’t on that route tonight but I know medics were being sent round the clock to that blaze, it’s how I ended up working a double.

“Yeah, heard it was pretty wicked,” I comment, hiding my face behind my glass as I take another drink.

“Wickedly awesome!” The firefighter’s eyes light up and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting hard thinking about the fire, it’s what guys like him do.

“Well, glad you had a good shift and thank you for the drink.”

I hold up my glass and turn to walk away but Jefferson’s hand finds my waist, stopping me from getting too far.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Laughing, I turn around, shaking my head. “Uh, no. I told you that you couldn’t just buy me a drink and think I’d get in bed with you.”

Jefferson squeezes my waist as he shakes his head. “Obviously. Look, a buddy on my squad is having a rough day.” He nods to another firefighter with shorter hair. He sits at the booth in the corner, flipping a coaster back and forth. “Take him this beer and give him some attention for me… please?”

I look up at Jefferson and shake my head. The audacity of this kid to think I’ll just do whatever he wants—

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, planting his lips on my cheek and shoving the second beer he was holding into my hand. He sidesteps me and I watch him make a beeline for another chick across the room. That fuckin’ asshole. Cursing him the entire walk to the corner booth, I plaster a smile on my face and scoot in beside his buddy, sliding him the beer.

“Hi,” I say sweetly. “Your friend asked me to bring this over to you. I’m Mariana, what’s your name?”

Jefferson’s friend lifts his head up just enough to mutter thanks and his name. Instantly, my stomach flips as I see the look in his eyes. Something bad happened today, this man is hurting. I glance around for Jefferson, even more pissed off at him for leaving his friend like this.

“Patrick, it’s nice to meet you,” I say softly, dropping my annoying sweet bit. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a long day at work,” he answers, taking a drink from his bottle.

Nodding, unsure what to say or press for, I opt to change the subject. “So, how long have you been a firefighter?”

“Too long,” he mutters mysteriously.

Alright, not much to go on then… My eyes dart around the bar, desperately searching for Jefferson. It takes me a few seconds but I finally spot him walking out the front door with a blonde. Ha, he would like blondes. I look back at Patrick, trying to think of what to say next.

“You don’t have to stay. I’m actually leaving but thanks for stopping by,” Patrick says and stands up, exiting before I get a chance to even respond. What the hell kind of night was this? Hit on by a married guy, pawned off on a friend, then deserted to be left alone? Forget this, I’m going home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

Looking down into the bottom of the empty Ben & Jerry’s carton, I think I might be sick. Chunky Monkey seemed like a good idea to help me forget about the weirdness that happened at the bar tonight but all it did was give me a bellyache and add on to the time I’ll have to spend at the gym tomorrow. Flicking off the television, I take the remnants of the ice cream to the kitchen. I leave them in the sink to clean up tomorrow so it’ll remind me why I feel so awful when I wake up.

Shuffling down the hallway of the tiny, two bedroom apartment I share with my roommate, I make my way to the bathroom. I squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush and try to wash away the sugary, bad idea I’d had in order to forget about tonight’s rejection. Was it really rejection? I guess in a roundabout way, it was a whole circle of rejection. I rejected Keefe, Jefferson rejected me then Patrick rejected me too… ouch, I got rejected twice, that hurts, even if I did know one of the guys.

I finish brushing my teeth but they still feel gross so I load up my toothbrush again with minty freshness and brush a little harder. Yucky feeling teeth sure beats the walk of shame though. It wasn’t too long ago that I wasn’t so picky about who bought me a drink and whose bed I’d wake up in. Less than a year ago, I was fresh out of paramedic school and thought I was pretty hot shit when I got offered a job in the Big Apple. I’d spend long hours in the rig, shorts hours in the bar, and even longer hours in a stranger’s bedroom. It wasn’t the healthiest lifestyle, and luckily I met someone who made me realize that the path of promiscuity wasn’t a great option.

Spitting out the toothpaste, I guzzle some mouthwash and decide my teeth finally feel clean enough to go to bed. Leaving on the bathroom light so my roommate can see, I head to my bedroom and pull back the comforter. With a long sigh, I crawl into bed and close my eyes. Immediately, my mind is blank of the trauma from work, the rejection at the bar, and I’m about to fall into a deep slumber. As I’m about to enter dreamland, the mattress sags under the weight of another body and I’m brought back to reality. The person lifts the comforter up, sliding in next to me and whispering, “You still awake?” I let out a long exasperated sigh but I smile in the dark because this is the best part of my day.

 

Paul

 

Lying in bed with my left arm wrapped around her, I pull her close. When she cuddles against my bare chest, I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweetness of her shampoo. This is the perfect way to end a spectacular day, if only every day at work could be like this. I drag my finger up and down her arm, lulling us both into a feeling of peacefulness. She nonchalantly slides her leg over mine, trying to get as close to me as possible and I smile, loving that she thinks I don’t notice these things.

“How was your day?” I ask, my finger still moving up and down her arm.

“Long,” she mumbles. “Thanks for pawning me off on your buddy, Doyle.”

I cringe, only feeling slightly bad for doing that. “Yeah, sorry about that. He’s got a story, I just don’t know what. I thought maybe you’d be able to get it out of him.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she says and playfully elbows me in the stomach. “How was your day?”

I shake my head, staring out the window at the big full moon lighting up the sky. “It’s how I pictured life as a firefighter. Frantic people, blazing fire, smoke, it was awesome. I wish it were like that every day.”

“You wish that people were trapped inside burning buildings getting smoke inhalation every day while their homes and businesses burn to the ground? You’re a sick man, P.J..”

Laughing, I brush my lips across her forehead. “You know what I mean. It was just an adrenaline pumping high that won’t go away.”

Her hand slides over my stomach, making me twitch down south, and it rests over my heart. “I can feel that.” She looks up at me and I can picture those hazel eyes even in the dark as her hands move to my necklace, sliding the cross back and forth on the chain. “Don’t you ever get scared?”

And only because it’s her and she’s my safe place, I tell her the truth. “Every day but it’s what keeps me motivated. Get in, get out, be the hero.”

She laughs and I smile because I love the vibration she creates against my chest when she does that. “What is it with men and hero status? Like do superheroes have amazing penises and it’s really penis envy that makes all men want to be a hero?”

“Only you would turn my statement into something about penises,” I say with a chuckle. It’s part of the reason we get along so well, she thinks like I do. “Seriously, who wouldn’t want to be a hero? Run in, save the day, get the girl.”

She tilts her head up toward me, her hazel eyes glowing in the moonlight and all the joking is gone. “You don’t always have to be the hero, P.J..”

I push a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “But I want to be.”

“You need to know the difference between being the hero and being stupid.”

Our eyes locked on each other’s, I give a soft smile. “Why are you so concerned, Mari?”

Her hand reaches up and she touches my dimple before she caresses my cheek. “Because I worry about you, P.J..”

“Because you care?” I ask with my eyebrow cocked, interested to hear Mariana’s answer.

“Because I couldn’t afford the rent if you were dead,” she says, rolling over with her back to me.

I shake my head and laugh, knowing I wouldn’t get a straight answer out of Mariana Barbosa, my feisty paramedic roommate. She doesn’t have to say it, I know she cares about me because I sure as hell care about her. Rolling to my side, I slide my arm around her and kiss her bare shoulder. Yep, this is definitely the perfect ending to a perfect day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

“Are we seriously going to stay in tonight?” I ask, using my chopsticks to sort through what’s left of the lo mein noodles in the box I’m holding.

Slurping the last of his noodles, P.J.’s lips make a smacking noise as their purse together, capturing the noodle. I twitch my lips to the left, trying to hide the smile that comes to my face as I recall what it’s like to kiss those lips of his. He finishes eating before he answers, taking his sweet time and knowing it drives me nuts. Impatiently, I clear my voice, trying to coax an answer out of him before I fall asleep.

“That depends,” he finally answers.

I roll my eyes. “On…”

I swear, Paul Jefferson will be the death of me. The man can push my buttons like no other and try me by doing the exact same thing. It’s a good thing we both agreed not to pursue anything with each other when we decided to share this apartment. Although some days I curse myself for agreeing to the condition, I know it’s for the best. Paul Jefferson is nothing but a playboy who I know would crush my heart in a New York minute if given the chance.

“On if you’re going to wear that low cut Kim Kardashian dress you were wearing the night we met.” P.J. wiggles his eyebrows, knowing I hate when he brings up that night.

“One, it was a romper, not a dress. Two, nothing I own should ever be paired with Kim Kardashian because I have zero curves like she does. Three, is that a yes?”

“One and two, whatever and three, hell yeah it’s a yes. We never get nights off together so let’s live it up tonight.”

P.J. lets out a whoop and stands up, heading to his bedroom to get ready for the night. Why he even has a bed in his bedroom is beyond me. Even on the nights that I’m at work and he’s at home, he sleeps in my bed. I don’t really know how that became a norm for us but it’s what we do, and on the outside it’s completely awkward and socially unacceptable but to us, it’s just us, P.J. and Mariana. It started when we both had really dark days at work, we’d each only been working for a couple weeks. Both of our shifts had been filled with death, more death than we’d ever seen in our life filled that one day. We’d each been in our own rooms, pounding down one Jack after another. Around midnight, we happened to meet up in the kitchen. When he asked me how my day was, I lost it. Big, loud sobs came out of me while I fell to the floor. Then,no questions asked, P.J. picked me up, carried me to my bed, and he’s slept with me every night since.

Giddy to be going out and knowing I won’t have to fend off any men since P.J. will be with me, I run down the hallway into my room to find the perfect outfit to wear. Sliding hangers from one end of my closet to the other, I find the romper that P.J. is talking about. I bite my bottom lip but leave it hanging up, afraid he might look into me taking his suggestion as more than it is if I wear it. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I start laughing because Paul is a man and men don’t think about things like that, especially when we’ve both friend zoned each other.

 

Paul

 

Spraying on my cologne, I grin at myself in the mirror. Dressed in jeans and a grey three-quarter sleeve t-shirt, I squirt hair gel in my hand, styling my hair into the perfect faux-hawk. Usually, I’d wear some type of FDNY apparel out because it picks up the most chicks but tonight isn’t about bringing home a woman, well, a woman other than Mariana. She hates it when I wear my fire department stuff because it draws attention to me and even though she won’t admit it, she hates having to share me with anyone else. When we first moved in together, I would do it on purpose to see her get all worked up and flustered, but now, we’re both so busy with our jobs that I don’t waste what little time we have together over such pettiness.

Walking out of my room, because I always let Mari use the bathroom to primp, I see the door is still closed, meaning she’s still getting ready. I head to the kitchen, pop open a beer, and take a seat at the breakfast bar in anticipation of seeing Mariana dressed up. Thinking back to the first night we met, I smile as I remember exactly how she looked in that black dress, or romper, whatever she called it. Her back was to me when I first saw her and normally I’m not a short hair kind of guy, but even without seeing her face, I knew there was something special about her. Then, when she turned around, I was in for a great surprise when the outfit was cut clear down almost to her belly button.

But it wasn’t the outfit or her body that drew me in, no, it was that narrow face of hers with the big hazel eyes that smiled at me. I was still new on the job and had worn my FDNY shirt on purpose but Mari didn’t even notice it. Our eyes locked and our connection never broke the entire night. It wasn’t until a couple hours later that we were finally in the same proximity that I finally said hello, and to this day, we’ve never said goodbye.

“Ready?”

I look up and my jaw drops when I see Mariana. She’s messing with her earrings but she looks stunning in a two piece black outfit, a high waisted skirt on bottom that hugs her tight curves and a high halter cut top with a slit between her breasts. The back of her bodice has two pieces of lace that leave her back wide open. It doesn’t matter if this woman is dressed in something like this or a pair of my sweatpants, she is always beyond gorgeous.

“Does this lipstick color look alright?”

She purses her bright pink lips and I shake my head. I swear some days she does shit like this on purpose. I stride across the room to her, placing my hands on her hips and pulling her body against mine. Dipping my head against her neck, I seductively whisper, “I know somewhere else it would look better.”

Her laughter fills my ear as she pushes me away. “You’re an asshole, P.J.. You know that, right?”

She grabs her purse and saunters toward the back door. I take my time, enjoying the view, even though I know it’s off limits. Less than twenty-four hours after we met, we decided to live together and we also decided nothing would ever happen between us. As much as I cherish our friendship, and I’d be lost without it, I sometimes curse the deal that we made.

 

***

 

Fuck me! Her hips are going to be the death of me tonight… or the worst case of blue balls in the history of them. The music blares around us, sweat rolls down my forehead, and Marianna’s round derriere rubs against my manhood, just like it has for the last five songs. My hands on her hips, I spin her around to face me, trying to give my poor dick a chance to breathe. Her own face flushed from the alcohol and the dancing, she cocks an eyebrow as she slides her hands around my neck and presses our bodies closer together.

“What?” she yells in my ear, her cheek against mine.

I shake my head, swaying our hips together to the music. It depends on how much she’s had to drink, but if I tell her the truth, she’ll either get pissy or grind harder against me. There’s no winning with Mariana, she’s hard-headed, stubborn, and oh so fuckin’ sexy. She yells again in my ear, her warm breath turning me on even more and I know I should stop dancing right now. Instead of answering, I grab her hand and walk us to the bar, ordering a couple shots.

“What’s this for?” she asks, holding up the shot of tequila.

“My dick needed a break.”

Without looking at her, I throw back the shot, grimacing as it burns down my throat. I knock the glass on the bar top, asking for another. Holding up my second shot, I look over and see Mariana glaring at me. I drop my hand to her hip, rubbing it softly and finding no panty line.

“It’s a compliment, Mari. Now, take your shot.”

Not satisfied with my words, she sets the shot glass back on the counter. “You know I wasn’t trying to—”

“Shut up,” I interrupt her and pick up the glass, holding it to her lips. “You’re hot, you’d turn any guy on the same way. I’m the one lucky enough to get your attention tonight, but I know nothing’s going to happen so I’m just taking a break. Drink.”

Trying not to smile, Mari can’t stop herself and she opens her mouth just wide enough for me to dump the tequila in it. I throw back my second shot and wait for Mari’s response to my words. Sure enough, after she finishes scrunching up her face in disgust of the shot, she turns to me.

“Fine, I’ll stop. Let’s find you someone then that can take care of that erection.”

I shake my head. “Who said I had an erection?”

Mariana rolls her eyes. “You don’t think I couldn’t feel that rod on the dance floor?”

Laughing, I shrug and order us each another shot. “You got me there but I don’t want someone to take care of it.”

Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head. “Uh-huh, no way. We’ve established boundaries, I will not be offering any handjob, blowjob, or any other type of job services tonight, or ever, for you.”

My heart tinges at her words but I just laugh louder and nod. “Glad we’ve set that straight… for the five-hundredth time.”

“Oh, look! There’s a blonde, she would totally bone you!” The alcohol starts to take its effect as Mariana points across the room at another woman, not even trying to be inconspicuous. “Wait, no, she looks easier than her.”

Another wild arm gesture that is sure to catch us some attention, I reach over, grabbing both her arms and pushing them to her side. She narrows her eyes, irritated that I’m not willing to drop her like a bad habit and run into the arms of some random woman that she thinks is easy. I smile because it’s shit like that that is endearing, the way she fights our attraction by trying to hook me up with someone else. Some nights, I wish she’d just let her guard down and let us be whatever we should be.

“I think it’s time we head home.”

Mariana shakes her head, trying to disagree with me. I put my finger to her lips, nodding my head yes and hoping she’ll do the same. Reaching in my wallet, I throw some money on the bar and walk us toward the exit. Mariana doesn’t argue much because she knows she doesn’t want to see me with someone else. It’s part of the whole messed up relationship we created from day one.

“Why don’t you send me home and you can go talk to one of those girls?” Mari suggests, her arms wrapped around my waist as we wait for a cab in the brisk evening air.

I nod, my head on top of hers. “Maybe I will.”

Mariana doesn’t say anything as she starts to pull away. I smile and hold her tighter, I love to mess with her, make her fight her feelings for me. Kissing her forehead, I shake my head.

“I’m not going anywhere but home with you, Mari,” I whisper and she hugs me closer.

If I’m being completely honest, one of the reasons I joined Fire Department New York was for the chicks. I could’ve done anything I wanted to but I picked FDNY because what woman doesn’t want a Mr. March from the firefighter calendar in her bed? I could be the world’s biggest douche, hell, I could even act like Patrick Doyle, and all I would have to say is “hello” to a woman and I could get laid. Funny how one woman can change all of that.

Sitting in the backseat of the taxi, Mariana snuggles up to my chest, snoring softly as the driver heads to our apartment. I’d do anything in the world for this woman I play house with. That’s all it is, we play house, the end. She goes out with guys and does what she wants, I go out with women and do what I want, and at the end of the night, we come home to each other and pretend that we’re in a normal relationship although our relationship is anything but typical. I don’t know if it was night one or two, or night twenty-two, but we just fell into ‘us’ which happens to be the oddest thing I’ve ever experienced and the most comfortable thing, too.

After paying the taxi driver, I carry Mariana up the stairs to our apartment, holding her like a woman I’d save from a burning building. Quietly, careful not to wake her up, I make our way to her bedroom and lie her softly on the bed. I delicately slip off her heels and pull the sheet over her. The moonlight shines in from the window, highlighting her high cheekbones as her chest slowly rises and falls with each breath. I could spend the rest of the night like this, but an aching from a specific body part reminds me it’s not a good idea. So I head to the kitchen, finding a bottle of tequila, and taking shots until the ache disappears.

Stumbling to the bedroom, I pull off my shirt, throwing it in the middle of the hallway. Inside the room, I drop my jeans and fall into bed with Mariana in just my boxer briefs. No sooner have I laid down, she rolls over, pressing her body against mine. I don’t even have to look down to know that she stripped while I was getting shit-faced in the other room. Closing my eyes, I groan as I drift off to sleep, her bare skin against mine and the ache coming back without my permission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

I swear there’s a man inside my head with a hammer. He’s not hitting it hard, just a light tapping, enough to keep the dull headache from disappearing. I’m afraid if I open my eyes that the sunlight pouring in the window will cause the headache to rear its ugly head and—

Sunlight? Fuck, what time is it? Using every ounce of energy I have, I focus on the task at hand—opening one eyelid to find a clock. Just like I’d predicted, the sunlight scalds my eye and the man tapping the hammer goes from a light tap to a full on banging. Mariana still in my arms, I stretch my arm as far as I can, walking my fingers across the nightstand to grab my phone. Once my brain recognizes the numbers, the pain in my head doesn’t matter as I bolt out of bed. Every firefighter gets three chances and once those three chances are up, you’re out, so I can’t afford to be late.

“Mari, wake up! You’re going to be late!” I yell as I run down the hallway, tripping over the clothes I’d shed the night before. Well, this makes things easy, I reach down and pull them on instead of digging through my closet.

I run back to the bedroom before I race out of the door, wanting to be sure that Mariana is up and not late herself. The sight in front of me brings a smile to my face. Mariana, looking as hungover as I feel with her eye makeup smeared and her short, dark hair going in every which direction, is scratching her head with one hand, holding the sheet over her chest with the other.

“I feel like ass” is all she mutters and I laugh, knowing the feeling.

Running over to the bed, I kiss her forehead. “Greasy pizza tonight, it’ll cure our hangovers.”

She nods, waving me away and stepping out of bed. I walk out the door but glance over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of Mariana’s perfect ass. Grinning, I run out the door, forgetting about my headache after that view. Once I’m out of the apartment, it’s a mad dash to cross town and get to the station on time. The hour hand on the clock ticks to seven as I rush through the bay doors.

“Cutting it close, Jefferson,” Murph calls to me without looking up from his newspaper.

“Hardly, Murph. Did you forget I was first in the CPAT in my class?” The CPAT is the Candidate Physical Ability Test and includes a stair climb, hose drag along with six other physical challenges that firefighters encounter on a regular basis.

Murph glances up, obviously not amused with my comeback. “You’re not dressed for work.” He stands up and walks to me. Once in my vicinity, he leans forward, sniffing me like a hunting dog. “Are you hungover? I swear to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Jefferson, if you have alcohol in your system—”

“Chill, Murph, I’m fine. I just need to change.”

Quickly, I sidestep him before he smells the lingering alcohol on my breath. I’m pulling my shirt off as I walk into the locker room. A minute later, I’m in my BDUs, work boots, and FDNY t-shirt. I grab my toothbrush but can’t find any toothpaste in my locker. Looking at the locker beside me, I see a fresh tube of toothpaste sitting in the locker labeled Garrity. I glance around to see if anyone is watching and start to reach for it when I hear someone clear their throat.

“Leave it alone.”

It's Patrick Doyle with his boyish face that makes me unable to take him seriously. I pause then decide to press my luck. I take another step toward Garrity’s locker and am impressed when Doyle reaches out and snatches my wrist.

“Don’t mess with the locker, Jefferson. Garrity died in the line of work, show him some respect.”

Holding my hand flat, I surrender, happy to finally see some kind of emotion come out of Patrick Doyle. I nod toward the locker. “What’s his story? Who's the other Garrity on the plaque downstairs?”

“Ryan Garrity was his brother,” Patrick says, releasing his grip and he drops his gaze to the floor like he normally does.

Taking a step around him, I chortle and shake my head. “You think one of them would learn from the other’s mistake. The Garritys must not have been good firefighters.”

“Jefferson,” Murph’s voice booms from the opposite side of the room, taking both Doyle and me by surprise. “Downstairs, wash the rigs.”

“What? Come on, Murph, we just started our shift and the guys haven’t run a call since midnight. It doesn’t need to be washed.”

“It doesn’t matter if it needs to be or not. I’m your lieutenant and I said wash the rig.”

Murph’s arms are crossed and I know he means business. I’ve been a part of this company for almost nine months, I thought the proby hazing was over. This is total bullshit and if my head wasn’t still pounding, back to the tiny taps now, I’d take it up with the captain. Instead, I roll my eyes and brush past Doyle, knocking my shoulder against his as I head back downstairs.

“Jefferson?” Murph calls after me and I look over my shoulder. “I’d better not ever hear the name Garrity come out of your mouth again unless it’s to pay your respects to the brothers that have paved the way for you and every other firefighter in this city.”

Stunned, I stare at Murph then look to Patrick Doyle, whose gaze continues to be cast low, not making eye contact with either of us. It doesn’t look like this is a battle I can win so I nod and take the stairs slowly, delaying the start of the chore assigned to me. I pause at the plaque where Ryan Garrity’s name is listed. As I read through the names of the firefighters that died in 9-11, I feel like a complete asshole for my comment. I turn to head back upstairs and apologize but I run smack into Murph’s round pot belly.

“Is there a problem, proby?”

I cringe, not having been called that for a while. I thought I’d earned my stripes, proved I was a solid team player but apparently my previous thoughtless actions set me back a few steps.

Nodding toward the plaque, I drop the cockiness that was in my voice earlier. “Sorry, Murph, I hadn’t—”

“You didn’t think, Jefferson. Ryan and Nick Garrity gave their lives, saving other people, saving their brothers of fire. It’s what made them the best firefighters that Engine 58 has ever seen. You’ll never be an ounce of what they were, Jefferson, not with your attitude.”

Not waiting for my reaction or giving me a chance to react, Murph walks off, thoroughly disgusted with my actions. The pounding in my head gets stronger and suddenly, my day that started off great turns shitty real fast. I begin to wonder how I could wake up next to a beautiful woman like Mariana and less than an hour later, be on proby duty and have pissed off my lieutenant as badly as I did. Before I can think of an answer, the alarm sounds and my headache rushes away thanks to the adrenaline racing through my body. Maybe today will turn out alright after all. Heading toward the rig, I’m cut off by Murph as he steps in front of me.

“We’ve got this, Jefferson. Stay back and switch out the oxygen tanks. If we’re not back when you finish, you can tackle the kitchen.”

Murph steps into the front of the rig, taking his spot beside the driver. With a knot in the pit of my stomach, I watch my happy place drive off. I punch the metal locker beside me, a loud ringing echoes through the now empty bay. Reaching in my pocket, I search for my phone to text Mariana but come up empty. Are you kidding me? This day just keeps going from bad to worse. At least I have her to go home to tomorrow, twenty-three more hours and things will start looking up.

 

Mariana

 

Rubbing my head, I climb out of bed when P.J. exits my room. The space feels awfully breezy and when I look down, I realize I’m stark naked. Sighing, I walk to the bathroom, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up. This isn’t the first time P.J. has seen me naked and I’m sure it won’t be the last either. I just wish I’d remembered how I got from the dance floor, downing a shot of tequila, to standing in my bathroom in my birthday suit with my hair and makeup a hot mess.

Stepping into the warm stream of water, I close my eyes, hoping it will wash away the gross hangover. My stomach churns, not from the leftover alcohol, but at the thought of how I was pushing P.J. to hook up with some chick. If I do it enough times, he will, and quite frankly, I’ll be heartbroken. I’m not an idiot, I know he’s been with other women since we’ve met, and I’ve been with other guys, not nearly as high a count as him, though. Still, we both operate under the non-spoken rule of out of sight, out of mind and don’t ask, don’t tell. Somehow since the first day we met, this wall was constructed that put a halt to any type of romantic relationship between us. So, instead of acting upon what we both obviously want, we dance around it and ‘play house’ as we like to call it. It’s all fine and dandy until one of us drinks too much and word vomits their whining as to why we can’t be together. Thank goodness it didn’t get to that point last night… or at least I hope it didn’t. 

Inhaling deeply, I soak in the scent of my lavender oil and pray that it’ll knock my headache away. My stomach flips again and I open my eyes, sighing. There’s no damn reason that P.J. and I shouldn’t be together but I know why we’re both holding back, although neither of us would ever say it out loud. We both like dating. We both love sex. He’s the male version of me and I’m the female version of him. We are so much alike, it actually scares us, and because we’ve each found the one person that totally gets us, we’re too afraid to lose each other. Call us cowards, call us fools, but do not call us a couple.

Outside the security of the endless hot shower, my phone beeps and I know I’m running late. I shut off the water and pull back the shower curtain, grabbing the closest towel to wrap up in. Smiling, I take a deep breath because it’s P.J.’s towel and it smells just like him. The towel wrapped around me, I quickly throw on some makeup and pin my hair halfway up before digging through the dirty clothes for my BDU pants and button up top. Reluctantly, I drop P.J.’s towel and get dressed in a hurry. Forty minutes later, I’ve clocked in and am riding shotgun in an ambulance.

“You look like death, Barbosa.”

Opening one eyelid halfway, I glance over at my partner and lift my middle finger. Kade Sumerton, rockin’ bod, scruffy face, and hair like McDreamy’s. Any female paramedic would die to be in my position, but right now I just want to survive my shift and crawl back into my bed where I know P.J. will be first thing in the morning.

The radio crackles and Kade laughs at my one finger salute. Without notice, Kade flips on the siren at full blast, waking me up. I jump in my seat and shoot a death look in his direction. Kade’s goofy grin spreads across his face as he answers the dispatcher that we’re responding. As the rig accelerates, I give myself a mental pep talk.

Luckily, the call isn’t anything too intense, a little old lady sliced her finger while cutting tomatoes. I take the lead, cleaning the wound and as I’m about to start stitching her up, my stomach lurches. Knowing what’s coming next, I drop her hand and make a mad dash to the bathroom, ralphing every possible thing that my body can expel. My body breaks out in cold sweats and I find myself telling God that I’ll never drink again if he’ll let me get through today. I run some water, dabbing it over my face when someone knocks at the door.

“You okay, Mariana?” Kade asks in a low whisper, his voice full of sincerity.

I open the door, shaking my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Is the lady all stitched up?”

Kade lifts his eyebrow, surveying me from head to toe before he nods. “Yeah and she made you some tea.”

Smiling, I head back to the kitchen. I take a couple minutes to sip the tea and thank her while I assure her I’m feeling alright and it’s nothing contagious. Kade packs up our kit and waits for the lady and me to stop chatting. Like a gentleman, he helps the old woman to her recliner then carries our bag to the rig and holds open my door for me. I climb in and take a seat but he just hangs out.

Widening my eyes, I shake my head. “What?!”

Kade shrugs. “You sure you’re okay? You’re not pregnant or anything, are you?”

Scoffing, I mutter, “You’d have to have sex for that to happen.”

One of Kade’s eyebrows raises but he doesn’t say anything as he shuts my door. My cheeks burn at what I just admitted and I pull out my phone to text P.J.. After typing in my passcode twice, I realize I must’ve grabbed P.J.’s phone, not mine. Knowing his code, my birthday, I punch it in and go to his text messages so I can text myself, assuming he has mine. I pause when I see the first message, sent last night after we got home. Shaking my head, so much for out of sight, out of mind as I view a prime example of sexting. Kade gets in the rig and starts the engine, driving without saying a word. I slip P.J.’s phone back in my pocket then glance over at Kade.

“Hey, look, I’m—”

“Hungover,” Kade interrupts, glancing over at me.

Stammering over my words, at first trying to deny it, then I finally nod. “Yeah, I am and I feel like shit.”

Kade laughs, a deep husky noise that makes my stomach flip. He pulls the ambulance into an old, abandoned parking lot and shuts off the engine. He moves between our seats and walks in back. I watch him moving around the back, taking out an IV bag of saline and nodding toward me.

“Come on, we’ve got a long shift. Let’s get you back on your feet.”

Why didn’t I think of this? I shake my head with a laugh and take a seat on the stretcher in back. On the first try, Kade finds the vein and I’m impressed although I really shouldn’t be. He’s much more experienced than I am with at least three years longer on the job. I close my eyes, enjoying the rehydration and my headache floating away.

“So… want to talk about the other thing?”

My eyes still shut, I feel my cheeks flame and I whisper, “Do we have to?”

Kade’s thumb and forefinger pinch my chin and I open my eyes.

“So that means you aren’t dating anyone?”

My stomach does that weird flipping thing again like when he laughed. His fingers still on my chin, I shake my head, not saying anything out loud.

Kade’s lips slide into a smile and he nods. “Good. Then you don’t have a reason to say no when I ask you out.”

“Wh-what?” I stutter, shocked at his boldness and a bit turned on at the same time.

“Breakfast, tomorrow morning. Go home after our shift, get some sleep, and we’ll do breakfast in the morning. That little diner by the hospital. Should I pick you up or meet you there?”

“I, um… I…” What, Mariana? You what? P.J. is getting dirty pictures from random girls that he doesn’t even have their number saved in his phone, why can’t you go to breakfast with this handsome man? “I’ll meet you there.”

Kade’s sly smile spreads into a grin and he nods. “Good, I look forward to spending time with you, Mariana.”

My stomach does a full on somersault and the rest of my body reacts similarly. Suddenly, I’ve been cast under the Kade Sumerton spell that has women swooning for him. I bite my bottom lip, trying not to let my eagerness show, but suddenly, I can’t wait for tomorrow morning and it doesn’t have anything at all to do with P.J.. Shit, P.J.! He’ll be getting off work when I’m getting ready so I’ll need to leave before he gets home. And this is why I should’ve never let P.J. and I get to the point it has, I’m sneaking around so I don’t get caught on a date by my roommate...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

Mouth wide open, I lean over the sink, delicately brushing on mascara. Butterflies in my stomach are lashing out on each other, partly because I’m excited for breakfast with Kade and partly because I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to tell P.J.. Luckily, I have until after breakfast to figure out the P.J. part of that equation.

I take a step back, trying to get a full length view of myself in the mirror. My ripped jeans say casual while my sleeveless gold tank screams nightclub. Sighing, I pull off the tank, careful to not mess up my hair or makeup. Walking the short distance from the bathroom to my bedroom in my jeans, ankle boots, and black lace bra, I freeze when I hear the front door open. Frantically, I scan for a clock, wishing we didn’t rely on our damn phones so much. Grabbing my phone at the exact moment P.J. walks in my bedroom door, I note that he’s home thirty minutes before his shift ends.

“What are you doing home so early?”

“You coming or going?” He questions at the same time I do, his eyebrow cocked.

“Um, going. What are you doing here before your shift ends?”

P.J. shakes his head, walking past me and kissing my shoulder as he does. He drops onto my bed, folding his arms behind his head as he lays back on the mattress.

“The shift was a shit show. As soon as I got there, I ran my mouth about two firefighters that were killed on the job and Murph put me on proby duty the entire shift, wouldn’t even let me run any calls.”

I search my closet, trying to find a more appropriate top as I listen to P.J.. “Don’t you know better than to talk about the dead?” I glance up and make the sign of the cross.

P.J. laughs and sits up, nodding in my direction. “Since when are you religious?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I shake my head. “I was born and raised Catholic, thank you very much.”

“I’ve never seen you go to church.”

“Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t still believe in God, just like you wearing that cross necklace doesn’t make you more religious than me. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, P.J..” I pull on a navy and white, striped, sleeveless flowy shirt. “Does this look okay?”

Close enough to reach out to me, P.J. grabs my hips, pulling me between his legs. He looks up at me, his eyes wide like a puppy dog’s. “Where ‘ya going so early and all dressed up?”

“Um, well…” I squirm under his touch which normally brings me such comfort, it’s weird and I know it shouldn’t. “Well, I am actually going on a date.”

“A date?” His hands get tighter on my waist but I don’t think he realizes it.

“Yeah, I was super hungover yesterday and Kade helped me feel better then asked me to breakfast.”

P.J. holds up his hand, waving it back and forth as he stands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Made you feel better?”

I laugh, patting P.J.’s chest, trying to put his mind at ease. “He gave me an IV to get me rehydrated, not whatever you’re thinking, horndog.”

“I thought we had a don’t ask, don’t tell thing going on,” P.J. says as casually as he can, shoving his hands in his BDU pants.

“Yeah, well, when I tried to text you from your phone, I saw the naked pics of the blonde from the bar last night. So the whole out of sight, out of mind thing got thrown out the window too.” I lift an accusatory eyebrow in his direction.

“What?” P.J. looks around the room, finding his phone and checking his texts. Shaking his head, he looks up at me. “Come on, Mari, you can’t be mad at me about things I can’t control. Are you just going out with this guy because of this?”

I bite my bottom lip, confused at his actions. My stomach churns, suddenly second guessing going to breakfast with Kade. “No, P.J., that’s ridiculous. We both agreed that you and I will never be more than… than what we are inside this apartment. You’re free to date whomever you want and the same for me. The only rule is we don’t bring them home and we don’t talk about them. You asked where I was going though and I wasn’t going to lie.”

There, it’s the truth. It’s all fact after fact except that there’s no truth behind the fact that we agree we wouldn’t date, kiss, have sex, etc… with each other. My mind is spinning and I’m waiting on P.J. to make the next move before I get even more lightheaded.

“Fine, you’re right. I have no say in who you date or sleep with so long as you don’t bring them home.”

My heart beats wildly against my chest but I nod. “Okay, then, glad we have that settled… again.”

“So… who is it?”

I sigh and shake my head. “Do you really want to know? I thought we’d—”

P.J. moves his hands back to my hips, pulling my body against his. “Look, I know we said no details and I still agree to that for the most part, but I just want to make sure he’s a good guy.” He smiles and touches my cheek. “Nothing but the best for my Mari.”

My pulse races again and I nod, swallowing hard. “Fair enough,” I manage to mutter. “It’s my partner, Kade Sumerton. He’s been a medic with the department for three years. He’s patient with me and a really good teacher. He—”

P.J. stops me. “Got it, Kade Sumerton. I’ll do my own research on him.”

I smile and kiss P.J.’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always,” he says back, running the back of his hand down my cheek. “Anything for you, Mariana.”

Clamping down hard, I bite the inside of my cheek. Tonight, I’m going to do some soul searching and try to remember why we agreed we couldn’t date each other because this seems ridiculous. Of course, tonight when I’m lying in bed, trying to recall the reason, I’ll be in P.J.’s arms which makes it that much harder to think of anything clearly.

 

Paul

 

She’s going on a date. I shake my head, trying to erase the thought. She’s going on a fuckin’ date… with her partner. If that’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is. Pull it together, Jefferson, stop thinking about her. Exactly, I need to stop thinking about her. We agreed when we moved in together that we could never date each other. Mari had some train of thought that if we did date and things went south, neither of us would want to live in awkwardness and we both needed a roommate so it was obvious that dating was off limits. The whole roommate needed so that we could each afford rent in New York is why we moved in together after only meeting once.

I wonder if he’ll try to kiss her… Seriously, man, get it together! Sighing, I sit up and look around. I need to get out of here, it’ll be impossible to not think about her and Kade if I stay in the apartment all day. Besides, lying in her bed like I am right now is the last place I’ll get my mind off her. As though my shift at the firehouse wasn’t awful enough, I come home to this and I want to fuckin’ punch something which is why the gym will have to do for now.

An hour later and my mind still isn’t distracted from wanting to know Mariana’s every move but sweat is pouring off my forehead and my muscles have a dull ache from trying to max out on my weights today. My earbuds pour heavy metal into my ears and I just wish it was loud enough to divert my thoughts from Mariana but it’s not, even when it’s cranked up to the highest setting. Lying back on the bench, I move underneath the weight, ready to bench press my thoughts away. When I reach up for the bar, my hands touch someone else’s who has already beat me to it.

“Don’t you need a spotter?”

A pretty brunette smirks as she looks down at me. Her neon pink sports bra with her breasts overflowing does its job as I sit up and my eyes are instantly drawn there. I let my gaze wander up and down her body, impressed with what I see and thankful that I’m finally distracted.

“Yeah, I probably should, but I don’t quite think you’ll be able to help out.”

She lifts an eyebrow, sneering even more. “Oh, I’m sure I could help out.” She moves her hand to my chest, walking her fingers toward my shoulder. “I know your type… headphones in, music blaring, vein throbbing out of your forehead as you strain to lift something beyond your limit… all just to prove something to yourself or forget something… or someone…”

Any inkling of interest in her dissipates and I push her hand away, irritated that she’s right. “Yeah, whatever,” I mutter, starting to lie back down but her hand moves to my shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

“Be honest with yourself.” She leans down and moves her face right next to mine, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You’re cute and I won’t even ask for details. If you need a distraction from whatever it is that you’re trying to bench press away, I’ll gladly help.”

Then, as she finishes her proposition, she picks up my cross necklace, twirling it around her finger then dropping it as she turns to leave. I watch her tight ass sway as she walks away, still frustrated… at her… at Mariana… at myself. I look at the weights then back at her as she heads toward the locker rooms. Knowing I’m about to make a bad decision, I stand up and shake my head then walk in her direction. When I turn into the hallway for the locker rooms, I see her smiling back at me.

“I figured you’d change your mind,” she says with a wink, walking toward me and touching my bare arms as soon as she’s within reach.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to decide if this is a good idea or not.

“You’ve got some dope artwork,” she says referring to my tats and squeezing my bicep as she says that.

Not giving it a second thought, I open my eyes and press my lips against hers. I move our bodies so my hips have her against the wall and she moans as I grind against her. Her hands move to my hair, pulling on it as she drags her tongue over mine. I pull back and glance down the hallway, knowing we need to get out the public eye. Taking her hand, I pull it as I start to walk toward the sauna. I open the door and step to the side for her to go in first. She does but not without a giggle and a quick peck on my lips first. I shake my head, hating that fake giggle that girls do. Mariana’s never done that, hell she doesn’t giggle at all. When she thinks something’s fun, she lets out a loud, boisterous laugh that warms my soul and makes me do the same even if I’m in a bad mood. Mariana is real, not fake like this chick and all the others that try to get into my pants.

About to make a dick move, I look at the brunette, ready to tell her this is a bad idea, but when I look at her, her top is already off and she’s wiggling her hips to shed her pants. I sigh, knowing there’s no turning back. If nothing else, it’ll help erase my awful shift and the fact that Mariana is with another man instead of hanging with me. I step inside and close the door, pulling off my shirt as I do. The brunette doesn’t mess around, when I’m close enough to her, she pushes me down on the bench, straddling me as she takes a seat. Going after what she wants, she grabs my hands and places them on her fake breasts… unlike Mariana’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

The sun is shining, there’s a slight breeze in the air, and the smell of a freshly cleaned engine brings a smile to my face. Walking into Engine 58, I vow to myself to make this shift better than the last. I could blame everyone else for winding up on proby duty last time I was here, but if I’m honest, I know it was my big mouth that got me in trouble. Now, of course, I would never admit that to anyone, well, anyone except Mariana.

It’s no secret that I’m a cocky, arrogant asshole when it comes to everyone except Mariana. I can handle whatever I dish out to the guys but I’m not a fan of Mari dishing it back at me, especially when it comes to dating. It’s been over twenty-four hours since her breakfast date with Kade Sumerton and she hasn’t said one word about it. I don’t know if they hit it off and went back to his place to bone or if he ate with his mouth open and Mariana rolled her eyes at him the entire time. I’m secretly hoping for the latter although the former would make me feel less guilty about the sauna hook up I had yesterday morning.

“You gonna have a good shift or be an asshole again today?” Naj slams his locker shut as he asks me the question.

I smile, tossing my backpack on the bench. “No worries, Naj, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good,” he mutters, not sharing the same sentiment that I do. “Somehow you wound up my problem and I’ve had to listen to Murph bitch about you ever since he sent you home early.”

I force my smile to be bigger although my stomach churns. I want to be the best I can be, the best in the department so it’s like a sucker punch to hear that my boss is ranting about me. I’ve got no one to blame but myself so all I can do is pretend like it doesn’t bother me and move on. Today is a new day, a fresh start to prove that I deserve to proudly wear the FDNY uniform.

Digging through my bag, Naj’s strong hand clamps down on my shoulder and he squeezes firmly. “With some of the older guys gone, I thought I’d turn over a new leaf and help you out… biggest mistake I ever made. Ask Doyle. I don’t like probys, I don’t like helping them, and I sure as shit hate babysitting them. Don’t be my mistake, Jefferson, understand?”

I gulp, still trying to keep the smile on my face but it quickly fades. As much as I want to be my best for me, looks like I need to do it for Salvador Naj, too. I don’t need to be on his shit list any more than I already am. Satisfied with my answer, or non-rebuttal, Naj removes his hand and exits the room. My legs are shaking like jelly and I drop to the bench, a bead of sweat rolling into my eye. Fuck if all my confidence didn’t just blow out the garage like the wind outside.

“What’s wrong with you?” Murph swings open his locker, barely glancing in my direction.

Picking up my jaw, I shake my head and shove my backpack in my locker. “Nothing, Murph, just ready to work and make everything right from the other day.”

He shakes his head, closing his locker before looking at me with the most intense stare I’ve ever seen before. “Your job isn’t hard, Jefferson. You come to work, put out fires, save lives, and be called a hero. Show up, put out fires, save lives, hero. Got it?”

I nod, my heart beating wildly against my chest. This is why I needed Mariana yesterday, to take my mind off work and tell me everything would be okay. Instead of brushing off my bad shift, I let myself get worked up over her date and stressed even more about doing a repeat from my previous shift.

“Good. Now head up to the kitchen and see how you can help.”

I make sure I’m out of the room before I sigh, frustrated at my proby work. It doesn’t make it any better when I see that it’s Naj cleaning up from the previous shift. Guys like Naj don’t wash dishes, they don’t do proby work, so I know this is his effort to be my mentor, although I’m quite capable of washing dishes on my own. Quietly, hoping he won’t notice me, I move to the back of the kitchen, putting away the dishes that are already dried. It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s aware of my presence.

“What’d you do on your day off?” Naj asks and I’m not sure if he’s interrogating me or trying to be friendly.

“You know, the usual… you?”

Naj hands me a pan to dry. “It’s probably safe to say that your usual is not my usual.” He turns his head in my direction, narrowing his eyes.”

Forcing a laugh, I shrug. “Yeah, probably. You’re married, right?”

A plate falls from his hands, splashing dirty dish water over both of us. “How long have we worked together?”

“Uh… um…” I stammer, knowing I fucked up again without even trying.

“Long enough to know that I’m not married and never will be.” Naj shakes his head, grabbing the towel from my hand. “You get the dish pan hands, I’ll dry.”

We trade places and neither of us talk as we finish up the tasks. Once the last dish is put away, I lift my eyes to Naj’s face, wondering if I can make it the rest of the shift, the next twenty-three hours without speaking to anyone. Surprisingly, Naj is grinning as he crosses his muscular arms and leans against the counter.

“How’s that girlfriend of yours?”

“Huh?” I mutter like a buffoon.

His smirk gets bigger. “That paramedic that you live with.”

“She’s not my—” I pause, catching on that he’s paying me back for the marriage comment. I shake my head, a smile touching my lips. “You know any medics?”

He shrugs. “I know my fair share.”

“Kade Sumerton?”

Naj’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “What about him?”

“Would you let your sister date him?”

Naj rolls his eyes, turning to walk out of the room. “I don’t have a sister, asshole. Do you know anything about any of your co-workers?”

It’s like a sucker punch when he says “co-workers” because in fire departments, the people you work with aren’t co-workers, they’re your brothers. Naj knows exactly how his words hit, it’s the lowest blow a firefighter could receive.

“Sorry, man, I knew that. I was asking in theory, if you had a sister, would you let her date Kade Sumerton?”

Naj chortles and shakes his head. “Not a chance in hell. Dude is a bad mother, if you know what I mean. Pretty boy smile, personality to go with it… makes it easy for him to hide shit.”

I narrow my eyes. “Hide what kind of shit?”

His smile disappears and he knows I want details. “That who your roomie is dating?”

“She had breakfast with him the other day. Tell me what you know.”

He shakes his head, turning to head down the stairs. Without thinking, I reach out, grabbing his thick arm and pulling it to get his attention. Naj stops and glances down at my hand touching him before he looks up at me.

“I’m not going to say shit and start rumors but if I were you, I’d tell your girl to stay the fuck away from Kade Sumerton. He’s bad news, Jefferson. If you talk to any girl he’s dated, she’ll tell you the same thing, but good luck finding one.”

My stomach drops, feeling worse than Naj calling my brothers my co-workers or even Murph yelling at me earlier. It’s bad enough that I can’t stand the thought of Mariana dating anyone else but it looks like she’s picked the worst in the bunch. Hopefully it’s not too late to save her… if it is, I don’t know that I’ll be able to save myself.

 

Mariana

 

My feet feel like a thousand pounds of lead as I make my way up the stairs to my apartment. My whole body aches from the very top of my head all the way down to my little baby toe. I haven’t slept in my own bed the last two nights and I miss it terribly, then again, I haven’t slept in the past two nights at all. I’d even venture to say I miss the person that always lies beside me, but I won’t tell him that. Plus, I’m not sure what that says about Kade since I’ve basically spent almost the past three days with him.

Digging my keys out of my purse, I dismiss that last thought, too exhausted to even let my mind go there and think about what that means. Breakfast went well enough with Kade to spend the rest of my day off with him and then work a full twelve hours alongside him as well. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s witty, he’s everything I’d expect him to be but… he’s not P.J. and I hate myself for thinking that. Paul Jefferson and I are not a thing and we never will be, so why am I letting them hold me back from fully jumping into this thing with Kade? He’s the first “good guy” I’ve dated in forever, look at P.J. as an example.

I finally get the door open and I’m so tired that when I step inside, I drop all my bags and immediately start to shed my clothes as I make my way to my room. My shift went an extra two hours so P.J. should already be home. I’m hoping he’s already asleep so that I can just curl up next to him and not have to answer five hundred questions about where I’ve been. Pushing open my bedroom door, I see that none of my hopes are going to come true today.

P.J. sits in the chair across from my bed, still dressed in his navy FDNY t-shirt and matching BDU pants, his fingers steepled as his elbows rest on his knees. Meanwhile, I’m walking into this verbal battle in my hot pink, lace bra exposed under my unbuttoned uniform. Luckily, my pants are still on or I’d feel a little under dressed.

“Where’ve you been?” P.J. demands and I’m not quite sure if he sounds more like my father or an overprotective boyfriend.

Rolling my eyes, I cross the room, shrugging off my uniform top and tossing it in the laundry basket. “Work,” I casually answer, digging through the same basket, looking for something to sleep in.

“Pft… yeah, I don’t think so. How was your breakfast with Sumerton?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. I love that P.J. has a taste of his own medicine. I grab a shirt and spin around to face him with a grin on my face.

“It was great but you know I love waffles,” I answer vaguely, avoiding what he’s really looking for. I pull on the shirt in my hand, reaching under it and unclasping my bra. I let out an “ahh…” as I free the girls and enjoy the moment of release. Unzipping my pants, I wiggle out of them and kick them off before P.J. can respond. I’m hoping if I crawl in bed, he’ll just follow and the conversation will be over. Sliding under the sheet, I hear P.J. walk across the room and I’m feeling hopeful that my plan might work.

The bed sags under his weight and I roll over, looking up at his face. His eyes are dark from lack of sleep although I don’t recall hearing over the radio many fires last night his engine would’ve responded to. He stares into my eyes and takes a deep breath, brushing my hair out of my face as he does. His hand runs down my arm, resting on top of mine before he speaks. 

“I don’t want you to see him again.”

It’s like the wind is knocked out of me with his words. I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. Some kind of smartass remark, sure, but a flat out order of who I can’t date is completely out of line, even for P.J.. Pushing his hand away from me, I sit up, crawling out from under the sheet and standing up in the middle of the bed in the heat of the moment.

“Excuse me? What did you say?”

P.J. jumps up, shocked at my reaction. “Chill out, Mari. I don’t want you to see him again. I asked around about him and—”

“Whoa!” I wave my hands, interrupting him. “You asked about him? To who? Why? I didn’t ask you to do that. Besides, I work with him every shift, I’m pretty sure I know him better than anyone you talked to. AND, what makes you think you have the right to tell me who I can or can’t date?” My arms are thrashing about as my blood pressure spikes with each word that I speak. Paul Jefferson has lost his damn mind if he thinks he can boss me around like this.

P.J. jumps up on the bed, grabbing my arms and pushing them to my side. “I know you didn’t, Mari, but I wanted to make sure that you were in good hands. I asked around for me, not you.”

My chest heaves, and unfortunately, P.J.’s touch works its calming effect on me even though I’m still pissed. “Fine, ask around for yourself, but don’t drag me into it.”

“I didn’t plan to but then I found out how bad he is. I don’t want you to get hurt, Mariana, that’s why I don’t want you seeing him.”

There goes his calming touch, I jump off the bed, pacing the small bedroom space, trying to sort out the thoughts in my mind. When I walked into the apartment not more than ten minutes ago, I was so tired, I could’ve laid down in the hallway and passed out. Now, my adrenaline is racing so fast, I probably won’t go to sleep for another twenty-four hours. A thump brings me out of my thoughts and I look over to see P.J. is back on the floor beside me. He reaches for my waist, forcing me to face him. His hands move to my cheeks and he holds my head in place, our eyes locked on one another’s.

“This isn’t a jealousy thing, Mari. This is for your own good thing.”

The rage in me boils up again and I shake my head. “Bullshit, P.J.! It’s funny that it’s okay for you to have pictures of naked girls texted to you and you can flirt with whoever you want, whenever you want, but when I express any interest in any male other than you then suddenly you have an opinion about what’s good for me.”

“Mari—”

“No!” I hold up my hand, taking a step back. “Don’t, just don’t. Look, we hooked up one night. One night and that was it, we both agreed to that. Sure, it was a great one night but we both need this living arrangement to work out. We let ourselves get too close so now we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t, but the we don’t rule still stands. Do we have an understanding?”

P.J. shakes his head. “Of course, that’s not what I’m trying to say here, Mariana. I’m telling you that Kade Sumerton is not someone that you want to be around.”

I stomp my foot and let out a frustrated growl as I look up at the ceiling. “Get out, Jefferson.”

“Jefferson?” P.J. asks, an inquisitive smirk on his face.

“Yeah, Jefferson. You and me and whatever we had is done. We’re roommates now and that’s it. Got it?”

His smirk disappears and he reaches out for me but I take another step back, crossing my arms. He opens his mouth to rebut but stops and hangs his head. Without another word, or even another glance in my direction, he walks out of my room. Stunned by everything that just transpired, I drop to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and rocking slightly. I either just made the best or worst decision of my entire life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

Caffeine, I need lots and lots of caffeine. Last night was the longest night I’ve ever had and the funny thing is that I wasn’t doing a damn thing. Literally, I laid in bed just staring at the ceiling and replaying my life from the moment Paul Jefferson walked into it to the moment I threw him out of my bedroom the day before. My head is still spinning as I try to figure out exactly what yesterday’s debacle means for our future as roommates or better yet, as friends.

“Turn that frown upside down, sweetheart. You’re much too beautiful to not smile.”

The sweet scent of a caramel macchiato tickles my nose and my brain stumbles to wake up. Kade Sumerton holds my lifeline to surviving this shift. The treat in his hand makes me immune to his deep voice and the effects it should have on my body. Like a child with a piece of chocolate being waved in front of her face, I snatch it out of his hand and bring it to my lips before I can mutter my appreciation. He chuckles and shakes his head as I let out a moan in place of the thank you I forgot to share.

“I’m a little offended that you’re more excited to see that macchiato than me.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls my body against his. “But I’ll let it slide this one time.”

I smile, wiping my lips of any leftover deliciousness. “Sorry. Thank you for the drink and it’s good to see you. Ready for another shift?”

Kade kisses my forehead, taking me by surprise. “I’m always ready to spend more time with you.”

I fake another smile and nod as my stomach sinks. Breakfast with Kade was… just breakfast. The guy is nice and hot, oh, he’s totally hot, but he doesn’t give me butterflies. I don’t get excited at the thought of seeing him or hearing his voice. In fact, I feel bad that I don’t see him the way most women do. P.J. is the one to blame, whether he means to or not, he’s professionally cockblocking every man that I might have any remote interest in.

Kade clears his throat, reminding me that I never responded to his comment. Nodding, I hold up the drink and walk toward our rig, mumbling as I move away from him. “Yeah, yeah, me too,” I say in the least enthusiastic voice I’ve ever heard.

My face is burning as I climb into the passenger side. My drink in one hand, I fumble for the seatbelt with my free one, desperately avoiding Kade’s face. My heart rate still rapid, it jumps another level when his thick hand rests on my thigh. Glancing up slowly, I brace myself for embarrassment but am shocked to see a gentle smile on his lips.

“What’s going on, Mari?” Kade asks sincerely.

I shake my head, trying to look as innocent as possible. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

His hand squeezes tightly around my thigh and finally my body reacts the way it should to a man of his stature. Then again, aside from sleeping beside P.J. and the ‘accidental’ brushes of his hand, this is the closest a man has been to my lady bits in a long time.

“I may not know you that well, yet, but I know you’re not fine. I’m your partner, we’re supposed to be able to tell each other stuff, help one another out.”

I stare down at his hand, way too concerned at the way he said “yet” than the fact that his thumb is mere inches away from my most sensitive area. Still wondering how long he thinks it’ll take for us to know each other better and if I can stand however long it might be, my mind snaps back into place and I look up at him.

“Do most co-workers put their hands so close to their partner’s lady bits?”

Unsurprisingly, Kade smirks, but his hand doesn’t budge. “Probably not and they probably don’t want to kiss their partner as bad as I do either, but let’s put all that to the side for now. Start by telling me why you’re guzzling caffeine? Sleep bad? Party too hard?”

Thankfully Kade squeezes my thigh again, distracting me from dwelling on his whole confession. The pressure on my leg from his hand keeps the blood flowing long enough for me to focus on his question.

“Roommate stuff,” I say with a casual shrug as I flip on our radio, hoping to end the conversation.

“Paul Jefferson, right? The cocky proby with Engine 58?” Kade asks, his eyebrow raised as he starts the engine.

I turn to him, my jaw slightly agape. How did he know that? I know I never mentioned P.J. by name to him, much less about his attitude. I guess he must’ve asked around like P.J. did on Kade. Suddenly, I feel like an asshole for shunning P.J. the way I did since apparently Kade did the same thing.

“Yeah, that’s him, but...” I start to get defensive about Kade’s description of P.J., but instead, I shake my head and laugh, “Yeah, that’s him.”

“What kind of troubles?” Kade looks at me, his face serious as he drops his voice. “He hasn’t touched you, has he? If he has, Mariana, I’ll—”

“What? No! P.J. would never hurt me! No, it’s nothing like that.” I shake my head, my heart races as I think about the harm that could result in a rumor like that.

Kade nods, turning back to the steering wheel and pulling the rig out of the parking spot. “Okay. Then what’s the drama?”

I tilt my head back on the seat, closing my eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you two… a thing?”

“Wh-what?” I ask, snapping my head up. “No, no way!”

Kade purses his lips then smirks again. “That was a pretty quick denial. Anything ever happen between you two?”

I bite my bottom lip, answering without speaking. My mind races, trying to figure out how to explain my way out of this. I’m not attracted to Kade but I don’t want anything going around about P.J. and me, true or not.

Kade pulls onto the road, not looking at me as he speaks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Kade, I’m sor—”

“Sorry? Why?” He glances over at me. “Mariana, we all have a past and hopefully we don’t all get judged on actions we’ve made when we were younger and naive. You hooked up with your roommate, no big deal. If you and him have something going on, that’s fine, tell me and I’ll back off.”

I sigh, relieved and shocked at his answer. Whether Kade and I develop into anything more, I need to be honest with him. Especially now that he’s called me out, I don’t really have any other choice.

“Yes, P.J. and I have slept together… once and only once, I swear! It was a few months ago, the first night we met—” My heart rate increases as I realize I just basically called myself a slut. “I swear I don’t usually sleep with guys the first night I meet them!”

Kade laughs and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Mariana. Remember what I said about not judging each other over our pasts?”

I swallow, trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my throat. “Right. Anyway, he was new to FDNY, I’d just started the job here, and we were both struggling to get by with the costs of everything. Neither of us had experienced city life and how expensive everything is. Anyway, the morning after we, uh, met, I woke up in his tiny, shitty apartment and in what seemed like a great idea at the time, I suggested that we become roommates so we could afford something nicer and safer so we didn’t have to risk our lives leaving our buildings every day.”

Kade nods, keeping his eyes focused on the road. “Makes sense…”

“Yeah,” I mutter, not sure where to take the story now. Do I tell the guy who took me on a date that from the first month of us living together, we’ve shared a bed? Sure, nothing sexual has ever happened after that first night, but emotionally our connection is much more intense than most couples I know. Do I tell him my drama is over P.J. telling me to back off him? Why did I start this story to begin with?

“Did you guys not connect? Why don’t you two date?” Kade asks casually.

“Um, no, we connect, pretty well,” I say, trying not to lie and trying not to put too much emphasis on any part of that. “We both agreed that we couldn’t date. Professionally, he wants nothing more than to work for FDNY and I don’t want to have to move back home to Smallville, USA, where I’d have to wait for one of the only two paramedics to croak before I got a job offer so really, neither of us can afford to not have each other as our roommate.”

“So basically, if you could each afford a place on your own then you’d date?”

“What?!”

His question catches me off guard and he chuckles. “I like you, Mariana. I just want to know what I’m getting into. If you want me to back off, just say so.”

My stomach flips. I’ve admitted to myself that I’m not attracted to Kade romantically but if I tell him to back off then am I giving in to P.J.? Why am I denying myself the chance to date and have fun when P.J. goes out and does it? It’s ridiculous not to! Besides, I can date someone without sleeping with them. It’s just someone to hang out with, right?

Turning the tables, I reach over and pat Kade’s thigh. “There’s nothing between P.J. and me, you have nothing to worry about.”

The rig comes to a stop at a red light and Kade turns to me with a smile. “Perfect. Then how about we do breakfast again after our shift?”

Nodding, because I don’t have any other option, I agree. Don’t lead him on, Mariana, and this will all be fine. I don’t have to let P.J. know I only think of Kade as a friend, like he doesn’t have to tell me about all the girls who send him dirty texts. Everything will be okay. P.J. and my fight will blow over and I have a feeling that Kade is going to end up being a great friend.

 

Paul

 

Heat envelopes my body, a feeling I used to long for, but lately it’s beginning to make me claustrophobic. I watch the fire dance across the floor, mesmerized at how elegant it looks, like a perfectly choreographed dance. On my shoulder, my radio screeches with commands but I only hear my heavy breathing in my mask. One breath in, one breath out. Condensation forms on my mask as I breath out and disappears when I breath in, distracting me from the blaze threatening my life.

Aggressive. Cocky. Asshole. Two weeks ago, those were the most popular words to describe me around Engine 58. Today, I’ll be the first to admit, that I’m worse than a proby on day one of fire school. I haven’t slept since Mariana kicked me out of her room. It astounds me how accustomed I’d grown to sleeping with her in my arms. In the sleepless nights I’ve had the last fourteen days, I have come to realize that since I moved in with her, I’ve never slept without her. When I worked at the firehouse, I never slept, but I’d go home, crawl into bed with her, and I’d sleep like a baby.

When things were good between Mari and me, I was loud, obnoxious, over the top at work. I felt like I had to prove to the guys that I wasn’t the typical proby who came in not knowing shit and scared of everything. I pissed them all off but I showed them I what I was capable of doing. It was always such a relief to go home to Mariana and not have to act up or show out, I could always be myself with her and she was okay with that.

So, two weeks ago, when she kicked me out of her room, only seeing her in passing a few times since, I quit being that aggressive, cocky, asshole. It’s like I’ve reverted back to my first day of fire school or worse, Patrick Doyle’s first day. I try to tell myself that I’m all bent of shape because I’m scared for Mariana and what Kade Sumerton might do to her. The more stories I hear about him, the more I want to pound him into the ground, but then I know I’d lose Mariana forever. I’m trying to stay out of her way and just lay low until this whole thing brushes over, until then I can’t afford any enemies without her on my side so I’ve toned it down at work, too.

The radio crackles underneath my breathing and the fire but I ignore it. I take a step forward, wanting to get a closer look at the way the fire is moving. Without any notice, a loud pop breaks my attention and the floor gives out beneath me. Stunned, I don’t have time to react and try to run away so I mentally prepare for the fall that could be my untimely end. Instead of fear or panic, there’s a calmness that runs through me and I focus on my breathing again since it’s amplified from inside my mask.

“Fuck, Jefferson!” Naj’s heavy voice carries over all the other noises. The last of the floor underneath me is about to give away when Naj grabs me by the arm and yanks me to safety. “What the hell are you doing?” He screams at me as he shoves me ahead of him, down the stairs.

“The fire’s not out.” I point behind us, the near death experience not even phasing me.

“Your fire was about out. You need to get out of here,” he says again, shoving me harder and I stumble down a couple stairs.

We get outside and Naj yanks off his mask, putting his large hands on me again and pushing as hard as he can. I trip over my own two feet and fall to the pavement. Old me would’ve jumped up and thrown the first punch, but me without Mariana, doesn’t have a feeling or a care in the world, so I stand up and walk in the opposite direction.

“What the hell was that about?” Murph yells behind me at Naj.

“‘Ole proby pretty boy fuckin’ collapsed a floor, almost killed himself and he doesn’t even care,” Naj screams in my direction, making sure that I can hear him.

He’s right, I don’t care because the one thing I care about, doesn’t want to acknowledge my presence. Mariana is in a bad situation and doesn’t even know it. Kade Sumerton has a long list of domestic abuse charges, all hidden because of his father’s status as prosecuting attorney, but just because it doesn’t show up on his record doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The part that’s eating me alive isn’t that Mariana isn’t talking to me but the fact that she’s in danger and I can’t do shit about it, which is why Naj is right. I don’t care that I almost fell through that floor seven floors up.

“Jefferson!” Murph yells at me.

Pulling my helmet off, I fill it with water from the hydrant and dump it over my head to cool off. After doing this a couple times, I make my way over to Murph who isn’t pleased at my delay. As soon as I’m within reach, he reaches out and forcefully taps me on the head.

“What the hell is going through that brain of yours?”

I shrug. “We all make mistakes.”

Murph’s face, already red from the heat, gets even darker. “Yeah, we do, Jefferson, but not to the extent that you have for the last two weeks. You’ve almost gotten yourself killed on more than one occasion, not to mention your fellow firefighters. You’re too much of a risk, Jefferson, I can’t take any more chances on you getting hurt up there or injuring any of my other guys.”

That gets my attention and the haze I’ve been walking around in for the past two weeks starts to clear. Yes, Mariana is important to me but it’s my dream since I was a kid to work for Fire Department New York and it seems I’m on the verge of letting that go, if I haven’t already.

“When we get back to the station, pack your bags,” Murph says, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping it against his hand to get one out.

“What? Come on, Murph! Give me another shot. I haven’t—”

“I am, Jefferson. You’re going to Dallas,” Murph says, lighting up his cancer stick.

“You’re transferring me?”

Murph lets out a loud, boisterous laugh. “I wish I could, Jefferson, I wish I could. I’m sending you to Station 58 in Dallas, Texas. Lieutenant Nate Boone is offering training for bonehead probys like yourself. You go down there, you learn, you come back, and you fight fires without getting yourself or anyone else killed, got it?”

I wave my hand to acknowledge that I understand. I highly doubt any kind of training, anywhere in the world is going to help me. The only way I’m going to get back in the game is to get over Mariana Barbosa and hope like hell Kade Sumerton doesn’t hurt her. If he does, he and I are both good as dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Dallas is hot and I don’t like it. The only heat I appreciate is that coming from a fire, not the weather. That’s what I need to keep reminding myself. I used to live and breathe for fire, watching it grow, being the boss that it is, destroying buildings, melting away its exterior, and then I would swoop in and extinguish it. It was the best feeling in the world… until I met Mariana. The way I used to feel about fire is how I feel when I watch Mariana move around our apartment or how it feels to have my arms wrapped around her. Now that I can’t have that, I’ve got to find that original burning desire of mine or else I’m going to be without the girl and without a job.

The fire crackles around me in the burning house I’m standing in. Five hours into this training, miles away from our station and my home, and I haven’t learned anything that wasn’t covered in basic fire school. I haven’t quite figured out if Murph decided to send me here to either scare me into quitting or if he honestly feels like I’ll learn something. Shaking my head, I aim the hose at the base of the fire, tuning out the directions coming over the radio. The way I see it, the sooner I get this fire out, the sooner I can get out of this training.

Slowly, the passion I remember from when I first became a firefighter vibrates in my chest. I smile as the fire diminishes and smoke takes its place. Maybe I was all wrong about Murph, maybe he knew I just needed to be reset and that’s why he sent me here. My grin grows to the size of Texas as the fire is completely gone and I make my way out of the building. I pull off my mask and toss my helmet to the ground, proud of my work inside.

“What’s this?”

A hand brushes at the shoulder of my coat. I glance down to the owner of the arm. A dark haired firefighter grimaces at me, his blue eyes alive with their own fire. His turnout coat reads “Chandler” as his last name and the expression on his face isn’t inviting. Essentially, nothing new to me since my own crew reacts to me the same way.

“What’s what?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, confused at what he’s talking about.

“The chip on your shoulder.”

He shakes his head and turns away from me. I look at my shoulder one more time then walk after him, calling to him but he ignores me. Picking up the pace, I get closer to him and grab his arm. He turns around and scowls.

“What are you talking about, man?” I repeat now that I have his attention.

“You came here for training but you didn’t listen to a thing the lieutenant said.”

I shrug and cross my arms. “It was a basic house fire, same thing you learn on day one of fire school. There was nothing to listen to.”

“Wrong. If you had listened, you would’ve learned a new technique that allows us to put out fires faster and safer, creating less damage. It’s a shame that chip on your shoulder won’t let you get better at what you do.”

“Look, man, I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I get better at my job every day, the more I experience, the more I learn.”

Chandler sneers and shakes his head. “Then why are you here?”

My stomach flips. The man caught me in a boldface lie. Lately, I haven’t been getting better at my job, I’ve only been getting worse. Knowing I don’t have to see this firefighter every day, I drop my head and shrug.

“Maybe I do have a chip on my shoulder, it’s what’s holding me back.”

His hand lands on my shoulder again, squeezing it hard. “Well, there you go, that’s half the battle, admitting that. Now, what’s the chip about?”

Looking up, I eye Firefighter Chandler, trying to decide if I trust him enough to tell him the truth. After a few seconds, I’m still not sure, but knowing I have no one else to talk to about this and after today, I’ll probably never see him again, I decide to go for it.

“A girl.”

He chuckles. “It’s always a girl.”

I run my hand over my hair and sigh. “It’s my roommate. She’s dating a guy that’s bad news but when I told her to stay away from him, she freaked out that I was trying to control her because of our past.”

Chandler lifts his eyebrow. “Your past?” I open my mouth to explain but he shakes his head. “Look, man, I don’t know what your situation is with this woman but I can tell you there’s things in life you can’t control. As a firefighter, you should know that. We can study and learn and try our best to understand fire, but ultimately, it does what it wants, whether we want it to or not. That’s how life is too. Now, be honest with yourself… do you not want her around this guy because he’s bad news or because you have a thing for her?”

My mouth drops open at his accusation but I quickly shut it because he’s right. “The guy is bad news and I’m worried about her but yeah… I do have a thing for her. She knows it, I know it, but she shuts it down because she insists that we can’t ruin our relationship because we need each other as roommates.”

Chandler nods. “Tough situation there. My parents died in a fire and I struggled for years because there was nothing I could do to save them, it’s why I became a firefighter. She might shut it down on the relationship thing but if you honestly feel like she’s in danger with that guy, then you need to do something about it. It might hurt your relationship more than if you acted on your feelings for her but if her safety is at risk, you have to protect her.”

His words make everything click into place. I finally understand why I’ve been so stressed out about this whole situation. No matter what, I’m going to lose Mariana, either way this plays out, but I have to do what’s best for her, not me. When I get back to New York, I’m going to have to set her straight about Kade Sumerton, even if it means losing her friendship.

“Get that chip off your shoulder, Jefferson, then you’ll do just fine so long as you listen to your crew.”

I look up at Chandler, not knowing more than his last name, and smile. Stepping forward, I throw one arm around him, pounding his back in the traditional bro hug and he does the same to me. Engine 58 back home might just be my co-workers but I’ve at least got one brother of fire with this Dallas firefighter which is enough to give me the courage to face Mariana when I get back home.

 

Mariana

 

My belly is still full from breakfast. Unlike the first few times I ate with Kade, when I was trying to be dainty and ladylike, I devoured my plate and part of his. It was an insane shift and I burnt off more calories than I do on a normal day, partnered with no sleep, and I was a bottomless pit. In a food coma, Kade offered to give me a ride home but he took me to his place instead of mine. It’s my first time here and I’m impressed by the matching colors and furniture, not to mention all the throw pillows. Lying on his couch, my eyes closed, I hold one of the pillows over my stomach with my legs crossed as I stretch out on his furniture. I don’t mind one bit that I’m here even though I’d much prefer to be in my own bed.

“Make yourself at home,” Kade says with a laugh as we walks into the room.

Opening one eyelid, I smile. “Sorry, your couch is just so comfortable.”

Kade’s smile softens and he crosses the room, perching on the edge of the couch beside me. He reaches out and pushes my hair out of my face, his fingertips skimming my skin. I sigh, even after all the time we’ve been spending together over the last few weeks, I still don’t get butterflies from him, not like I do with P.J.. I’ve been very careful not to give any mixed signals to Kade, which is why I’ve denied every invitation he’s offered to come to his place. Meanwhile, I’ve been avoiding P.J. like the plague, too afraid to admit my own feelings and risk getting hurt as I’m sure he’s been out doing who knows what with who knows who. He’s never home anymore and I hate how empty my bed has been.

“No worries, babe. My bed is even more comfy if you want to lie down in there.”

My stomach sinks and I prop myself up on my elbows. “Kade…”

He shakes his head. “Not like that, Mari. You’re tired, we had a long shift. Why don’t we lie down and get some rest?”

“Oh,” I mutter, feeling like an idiot for jumping to conclusions. Taking his hand, I follow him to his bedroom, feeling more nervous than I should. I glance around the room, taking in the decor. One wall is painted black with framed black and white pictures of vintage celebrities. His bed has a brown leather headboard and is neatly made up with a grey comforter. A black and white striped rug rests under the bed and over the wood floor while just one black nightstand sits to the left of the bed, which must be his side.

Kade waves his hand toward the bed. “Ladies choice.”

I smile tensely, moving to the right side and slowly kicking off my shoes. When I look over at Kade, he’s pulling off his t-shirt, exposing his perfect six-pack and putting me even more on edge. He neatly drops the shirt in a hamper, not dirtying up the floor like P.J. and I do as we discard our clothing all over our apartment. When his hand moves to his zipper, I clear my throat nervously.

He looks up, his zipper undone and his black boxer briefs slightly exposed. “Get relaxed, Mariana. I know you’ve had a hard time sleeping, I just want you to rest.” My eyes are trained on his pants and he glances down, following my gaze. “Sorry, I can’t sleep with jeans on.”

I nod and shake my head at the same time, looking like I’m having some kind of seizure. “Yeah, no, that’s fine, totally fine,” I stumble, making no sense at all. “I’m comfy, I mean what’s more comfy than leggings and a sweater?” I wrap my arms around my body, giving myself a hug and looking totally ridiculous. I crawl into the bed, my hair in a French braid barely touching my shoulder and plop down like a dog.

Kade laughs. “If you say so,” he comments, dropping his jeans and I quickly roll away from him so I don’t see anything. The bed sags under his weight as he lies down beside me. His arm finds its way around me, pulling my body flush against his and I squeeze my eyes shut. This is no different than how P.J. and I sleep and we’re nothing more than friends… maybe this will help me sleep. I take a deep breath, counting to ten as I try to calm my nerves and fall asleep.

Ten minutes later, my breathing exercises are working and I’m about to drift off to sleep, something I haven’t done in weeks. Turning to face him, I snuggle closer to Kade, my leg slipping between his. I take a deep inhale of his musky cologne and am on the verge of slumber when his hand slips off my waist to my backside. My eyes go wide, looking at Kade, but he rests peacefully and I’m not even sure he’s awake. I close my eyes again, restarting my breathing and counting.

Once again, I’m so close to sleep when Kade’s thick hand moves under my sweater and touches the bare skin on my stomach. I move my hand on top of his and try to push it down. It works except that his hand doesn't stop, it keeps traveling south. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he’s still asleep so I pick up his hand and put it on his thigh, wiggling away from him and rolling back to my side. Looking over my shoulder, I watch Kade’s chest rise and fall evenly, deep in sleep. I should go, grab my shoes and call a cab. I’ve spent weeks working on not putting out the wrong vibe and I sure as hell don’t want to twist things up now.

Slowly, I inch my way toward the edge of the bed. I’m about to drop my feet to the floor when a strong force on my hip rolls me to my back. Kade is awake now, his eyes wide open. My heart beats wildly but I force a smile to my lips.

“Sorry, I can’t sleep so I’m just going to head home,” I stammer out quickly, hoping to get out of here fast.

Kade’s head moves from side to side. “Stay, let me help you relax.”

His hand slides down my leg, moving too fast for me to stop him before he grabs my crotch. I cry out in surprise and wiggle beneath his grasp while my hands move to his shoulders, trying to push his arm away.

“I-I’m fine. I should go,” I say as firmly as I can, although I can’t hear my own words over my racing pulse.

“No, you’ll stay.” His tightens his fingers around my lady bits and I try to clench my legs together in an effort to stop him. “I haven’t laid the groundwork of listening to you bitch about your man-whore roommate for a month to not get laid.”

All the blood drains from my face and I know I’m as white a ghost, shocked at his words. This isn’t the Kade I’ve been hanging out with this whole time. He seemed so sincere, almost encouraging me a few times to go for it with P.J.. It was all for show though, he couldn’t have cared less about me and I bought it. Now, I’m in quite the predicament with no way out. Tears blur my vision as he moves on top of me, the weight of his body feeling like a ton of bricks.

“Too bad P.J. can’t help you now, can he?” Kade chuckles, squeezing my breasts tightly.

I close my eyes, a tear squeezing out of both of them. My mind is a blur, trying to prepare for what’s about to happen when a distant memory comes forward. The first few nights in our apartment, P.J. gave me pepper spray and spent the next hour telling me what to do if I was ever attacked. I rolled my eyes, never expecting to be in a situation like this but now, it all comes flooding back to me. I take a deep breath, listening to Kade laugh, telling me how stupid I am, and badmouthing P.J. and every other firefighter.

Opening my eyes slowly, I look up at him, staring at his nose. A smile actually comes to my lips as I think about how his perfect face won’t be so perfect after this. Kade’s in mid-sentence when I slam my hand up, making contact with my palm to his nose. A spray of blood rains over me for a few seconds before he crumples in a heap beside me as he calls me every bad name he can think of and more. Stunned at my action, and even more so that it worked, I stay in place long enough for him to reach out and make contact with my cheek. A searing pain shoots from my cheekbone to my eye and I’m thankful for it because it snaps me back to reality.

Without another word or any more physical contact, I jump out of his bed and beeline for the front door. Barefoot, I run down the sidewalk as fast as I can, blood trickling down my cheek. I run block after block, not stopping, not hurting, not out of breath as adrenaline courses through my body. When I reach the subway station, I finally stop, realizing that I don’t have any money with me. A middle-aged business man looks over at me and without asking any questions, pays for my fare. A small smile is all I can give to repay him and he nods, lifting his eyebrow to ask if he can do any more. I shake my head and instead of crying, I begin to laugh. All of this started because of P.J. and it ended because of him, too. Now, the only person who can make me feel better is him, the man who put me in this situation to begin with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

The steam around me is an indicator of how hot the water spraying out of the shower head is. It’s the only way I know what the water temperature is because my body is numb, it feels nothing. I cranked the knob as high as it would go in an effort to wash away my skin that’s still crawling from where Kade touched me. I figure if all my skin is gone then it’ll be like it never happened. I sigh and shut off the water because I know my line of thinking is so far from being right.

Stepping out of the shower, I don’t even bother to grab a towel. I cross the small space, dripping water onto the tile floor. When I get to the sink, I pause before wiping the condensation off the mirror, wondering if I really want to see my own reflection. Taking a deep breath, I swipe my hand back and forth, clearing a space so I can see my own face. Much like the rest of my body, my mind is also numb, and doesn’t react to the purple bruise taking over half my face.

Setting one hand on either side of the sink, I drop my head and all the tears begin to fall. One after another until I’ve cried at least a thousand tears. This is all so unfamiliar to me, for which I should be grateful, but I hate it. I don’t know what to expect or how I’ll recover and the fear of the unknown scares the shit out of me. I know I’ll be fine, I don’t have any other choice, but I just want to know how.

Unable to stand another second looking at my own reflection, I exit the bathroom. As I pass P.J.’s room, his familiar scent wafts out and I stop in my tracks. Pushing open the door, I step inside, scanning the space until I find what I’m looking for. I pick up a navy FDNY t-shirt and hold it to my chest, taking a deep inhale. The other half of the equation is where does this leave us? My heart hurts so much right now and I know P.J. is the only one that can put it back together but then the question is, do I give it to him entirely after that? P.J. isn’t a long term commitment kind of guy, it’s why I have always refused to sleep with him again after the first time. It’s hard enough knowing the man I like is out sleeping with other women when he has no allegiance to me other than to pay his half of the bills, it’s an entirely different story if I give him my heart and he tramples on it THEN sleeps with other women. It’s really a no win situation for me, I either take my chance with P.J. and lose everything or things stay the way they are and I find a way to move on. Of course, there’s another option… cut ties all together.

Tears burn in my eyes at that last thought. Quickly, I pull on his shirt and make my way to my room. Lying down, my hair still soaking wet, I stare at the shoes I wore home from the subway. A nurse I recognized from the hospital gave me her spare pair. She only asked if I needed any medical attention and when I denied, she handed me her shoes without another word. I know what department she works in so I’ll drop them off silently next time I work, hoping to avoid the embarrassment of seeing her face to face again.

Work… I squeeze my eyes closed only to pop them open again from the pain of my bruise. I can call in tomorrow but being that I’m still new, I don’t have many sick days to use. I know I can’t avoid Kade forever but no way in hell do I ever want to be anywhere alone with him again. I’ll have to report the whole incident in order to get a new partner but I know it won’t end well. Kade’s the perfect pretty boy, no one will believe my word over his. My stomach churns as it hits me that I’ll probably get fired over any sort of accusation which means I’ll be headed home to live with my parents again.

I shake my head, trying not to get caught up in what might happen. Right now, I’m exhausted and I just need sleep. I try to close my eye again but the pain is just too much. Staring at the clock, I watch one minute change to another then to another until almost three hours have passed. I focus only on the numbers so my mind doesn’t think of anything else. Yawning, my eyes start to get heavy but the pain that shoots down my cheek every time my eye closes, keeps me from giving in to slumber. When I’ve finally made up my mind to accept the pain, my bedroom door swings open and I relax, knowing I’ll be alright.

 

Paul

 

I wasn’t supposed to leave Dallas until tomorrow but after my chat with Chandler, I knew I had to get back to Mariana sooner rather than later. I’m like a zombie walking into our apartment and it’s never felt better to be where I belong, home with Mariana. Hopefully, she’ll talk to me in the morning. If she hadn’t been avoiding me for the past few weeks, I’d wake her up right now and make us talk but I know I’ll have a better chance of getting through to her when I’m more rested.

I head to my bedroom, hating that I’ve been sleeping in there alone. I miss her frozen feet sliding between my legs to warm up and her hair always in my face in the mornings. I never hated those things, I just pretended I did and she knew that, it’s why she kept doing it night after night. My door is open and the carpet is wet in the doorway which means Mariana must’ve been in there. I look toward her room and decide to go check on her. The wet carpet trails from my room to hers. Quietly, I push open the door and can make out the shape of her body under her blankets. Satisfied that she’s safely in bed, I turn to close the door but stop when she calls out to me.

“P.J.…”

My heart beats faster when she says my name. Casually, I glance over my shoulder and answer her. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to wake you.”

“Come sleep with me.”

My stomach flips and my heart goes into double time. “You sure?”

She nods in the darkness but I can see the movement from the moonlight. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the bed and lie down beside her, careful to not touch her. Mariana reaches over, pulling me to her and whispering for me to relax. In a matter of seconds, all the tension between us disappears as Mariana holds me in her arms. Yawning, I nuzzle my head against her chest and close my eyes, drifting off into a much needed sleep. This is where I’m meant to be and where Mariana is, too. Hopefully this is a sign that she agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Completely rested and feeling better than I have in weeks, I lie here in Mariana’s arms, pretending to be asleep. The truth is that I’ve been awake for the past hour and I can tell from her breathing that she has too but neither of us are ready to face each other. Right now, in this moment of peacefulness and silence, all is right in the world but the second either one of us speaks, the perfection will start to crumble away. As I stare at the clock, it hits me that she’s late for work.

“You going to work today?” I ask quietly without looking up.

She shakes her head and even though I can’t see her do it, I feel her whole body twist as she does. “No, I called in.”

Puzzled, I roll off her and sit up. “Why—what the hell happened?”

Half her face is a shade of purple I’ve never seen before and her eye is nearly swollen shut. Instinctively, I reach out to touch the bruise but stop midway. I move my other hand to cradle the side of her face that isn’t injured, needing to show her some kind of affection.

“What happened, Mariana? Something at work? Why didn’t Kade stop whoever did this?” My blood pressure increases with each question I ask, furious that her boyfriend didn’t intervene.

Mariana drops her head, her dark locks falling over her shoulders. “He’s the one that did it.”

She speaks those words and for a split second, the whole world stops. My vision goes white from anger. I stand up, pacing slowly and curling and uncurling my fists. Clenching and unclenching my jaw, I finally manage to speak one word.

“Explain.”

Mariana sighs, leaning back on the bed and crossing her arms, a sign that she’s about to shut down on me. “I made a mistake. I should’ve listened to you but I thought you were just trying to stop me from dating, so I blew you off. So there, P.J., you were right and I was wrong.”

My anger dissipates and I drop to the bed beside her, reaching out and taking her hand. “No, Mari, that’s not what this is about. I don’t care who was right or wrong. I want to know why that bastard did this to you and… and did he do anything else?”

“No, this is it,” she says, not bringing her eyes to meet mine. “He tried to force me… but I remembered what you taught me. I nailed him in the nose and he reacted with a backhand to my cheek. I took off as soon as I could, ran to the subway with no shoes, and luckily found a couple good people along the way to get me back home.”

“Fuck, Mari…” I mutter, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight. She nuzzles her head against my chest, crying softly and my temper grows. How the hell a man could put a woman, Mariana for that matter, in a situation like that pisses me off. As much as I want to sit here and comfort her, I want more than anything to get my hands on Kade Sumerton. “I’ll take care of it, Mari, don’t worry.”

She pulls away from me quickly, shaking her head. “No! Let it go, P.J.. I have to figure out what to do myself. If I don’t handle it right, I could lose my job.”

My stomach clenches at the thought of Mariana moving out of the city. I press my lips to her forehead. “I’ll handle it so that you don’t have to worry about that. Sumerton will be lucky if he has a job when I’m done with him.”

Without warning, Mariana’s lips are on mine for the first time since I slept with her almost a year ago now. Her mouth tastes just as sweet as I remember and I waste no time returning the kiss. Tilting my head to deepen the embrace, I pause, remembering the situation she was in just the day before and not sure if we should head down this path. As much as it pains me, I pull away and whisper, “We shouldn’t do this, Mar…”

 

Mariana

 

His words are like a dagger to my heart but he’s right. We shouldn’t do this, I’m in no frame of mind to do anything like this with anyone, even P.J.. But, in my messed up mind, which it is totally messed up right now, I figure this distraction will stop him from any confrontation with Kade and it’ll get my mind off the mess that my life has become in less than twenty-four hours.

“Shut up,” I mumble, my mouth moving along his jawline as I tug at his t-shirt, trying to pull it over his head.

“Come on, Mar…” he whispers in my ear, not making any effort to stop me.

“Ssh,” I answer, his shirt now off and my hands moving to his pants. P.J. tilts his head back, moaning although I’m not sure if it’s in anticipation or uncertainty. I don’t use my words to find out, I just keep moving my hands, lowering the zipper on his pants and rubbing my hand over the rock in his boxer briefs.

“Mariana…”

I look up at him as he holds his hands to the side of his head, unsure where to place them. My heart tinges because I know what’s going through his mind—I’m tainted goods. He doesn’t know how to touch me because he doesn’t know how I’ll react. Hell, I don’t know how I’ll react but the one thing I do know is that I want to figure it out with someone I trust like P.J.. Reaching out, I take his hands and put them on my breasts. He holds them awkwardly, glancing from his hands to my eyes, begging for me to explain what’s going on.

“I’m not fragile, P.J.. Stop overthinking this, it’s just like the first time we were together.”

P.J. shakes his head, moving his hands to my hips and squeezing them gently. “It’s nothing at all like the first time we were together, Mariana.”

Tears cloud my eyes and I look away from him because I know he’s right. The first night we were together was raw and savage. We were a couple of new recruits, looking to celebrate that we had big kid jobs. Then we got to know each other, fell into our routine, and dare I say, we fell for each other. It was the worst possible outcome but that’s what it was. There’s too much on the line for us to give in to our feelings, although if I’m going to lose my job, now’s the perfect time for me to go for it with P.J. because it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m headed back to the ‘burbs.

Without acknowledging his statement, I lightly press my lips to his. Taking my time, I kiss him nice and slow, letting him look into this kiss however he’d like. To me, it’s to get over this hurdle of not feeling broken anymore from what Kade did to me. P.J. moves his hand to my hair, pulling his fingers through it. His tongue slips between my lips and I close my eyes, pretending for a brief moment that this kiss is so much more than making me feel whole again, that it’s about P.J. and me crossing the line in our relationship with so much ahead of us.

My eyes closed, an image of Kade pops into my head along with the physical and emotional pain that goes along with it, and I quickly open my eyes. With one hand, I push P.J. to his back and straddle his legs. Tenderly, he reaches out and pulls on the hem of the shirt I’m wearing.

A smile spreads across his face and he nods toward me. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

I shrug. “Yeah…”

“I like when you do that.”

He sits up and kisses me softly, his hands running underneath the shirt and over my hips to my backside. I feel my lips twitching into a smile, enjoying this moment for way more than it’s worth. Shaking my head, I move my hands to his shoulders, pushing him back again. I move his hands behind his head to keep him from reaching out and touching me again. Our eyes lock and his mouth grows into a grin as I push his boxer briefs down, exposing his manhood. Unable to keep up the intensity of our stare because I’m afraid he’ll be able to look into my soul and know that I’m bluffing all of this… or worse, he’ll know how real we really are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Still half-asleep, I already know I’m wearing a perma-smile. I fell asleep smiling with Mariana in my arms and I don’t think it’s left my face since. Despite last night starting off a little rocky, in the end, we went there and it was better than I remember. We might not have said it in words or verbally admitted our feelings but the barrier was broken and I know things can only look up for us from here. My playboy ways can be put behind me because I can now finally be a one-woman man, Mariana’s man.

Rubbing my eyes, I note that my cheeks ache from all the smiling but I don’t mind. I roll to my side and open my eyes, expecting Mariana to be lying beside me but she’s already out of bed. My lips dip into a frown, my face muscles welcoming the break. I throw back the comforter and stand up, still naked from the night before which makes my smile return. Wandering our small apartment, I quickly find that Mariana is already gone. The note taped to the door confirms it.

Left for work. Thanks for last night. XXX, M

My stomach somehow manages to sink and jump at the same time. In my mind, I imagined everything being completely different yet entirely the same after last night. Based off Mariana’s note, things are the same… but are they different as well? I know I’m just reading into it, what can a two sentence note honestly reveal? The answer is nothing. Glancing at the clock, I note my twenty-four hour shift starts in an hour then it’ll be exactly one day again before I can hold Mariana like I did last night. Hopefully, it’ll just be the first of many nights exactly like it.

Sixty minutes later, I stroll into Engine 58 feeling rejuvenated by both the training in Dallas and my night with Mariana. Hell, I’m even whistling! I walk into the locker room, my lips still blowing wind, and I get the most bizarre looks from both Naj and Murph.

Patting them both on the back, I open my locker before turning to face them. “Murph, thank you for the training. It helped me not only professionally but personally as well. I’m happy to say that I’m back, sans chip on my shoulder, and ready to be a part of the Engine 58 team.”

Murph stares at me, dumbstruck before finally asking, “What the hell are you talking about sans chip on your shoulder?”

I grin, squeezing his shoulder. “The one that was holding me back from everything.”

Naj scoffs and shakes his head. “Whatever, Jefferson, so long as you’re back and not going to get any of us killed, that’s all that matters.”

“Deal.” I extend my hand in his direction. Naj stares at it then reluctantly shakes it before looking at Murph. The two men exchange a look then both exit the locker room, leaving me alone. I glance over at the empty lockers I once talked down about. Looking from one side of the room to the other, ensuring that I’m on my own, I walk in front of the locker and nod toward it.

“Hey… I just want to say I’m sorry for all that stupid shit I said. I’m obviously still learning and even though you’re not here, I know I’m learning from you because you had an impact on all the guys here at Engine 58 so… thanks.”

I touch the locker, knowing I’m standing in the presence of where greatness once stood. Hopefully, one day, I can live up to the standards that the Garrity brothers left behind. Thinking I’m alone, I jump when I hear someone mutter “thanks.” When I turn around, Patrick Doyle is staring over my shoulder at the locker.

“Thought I was alone,” I comment, trying to sound tough and not so emotional.

Patrick drops his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Yeah, whatever, it’s fine.” I walk out of the door, brushing my shoulder against his as I do.

Patrick doesn’t respond to my touch but he speaks quietly, “You’re right. Garrity had an impact on all of us, he truly was one of the best.”

“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder at Doyle who’s looking back at me. “How about we agree to not let him or his brother down?”

Doyle nods. “I’ve been trying not to ever since he died.”

He walks further into the locker room, letting me know our conversation is over. I sigh, still not understanding Patrick Doyle one bit. Normally, I’d be relentless in finding out his story, but in the past, I haven’t gotten anything other than told to leave him alone and today is too good of a day to start any shit. Heading downstairs to the bay, I busy myself with proby work without being asked. The whistling comes back to me and the fire engine is sparkling by the time we get our first call.

When we pull up to a car accident on the Henry-Hudson Parkway, I recognize Kade Sumerton before anyone else. My good mood diminishes as I climb out of the fire truck, making a beeline for the asshole that touched my Mariana. Briefly, a small smile touches my lips at the thought of her being mine but that thought is blacked out by the image of her bruised face, the result of his handiwork. Closer to the scene, I note that he’s working with another male paramedic which brings me relief that Mariana hasn’t been spending her day with him.

“Sumerton,” I say his name and judging from the look on his face, he knows to be scared.

“Jefferson.”

He stands up straight, tucking his hands into his pockets, which pisses me off. He’s inviting me to throw the first punch, to show off to everyone around us that he’s defenseless because he knows I’ll lose my shit if he tempts me. I don’t stop moving forward until my chest is touching his.

“You’re smart. Hit her in private, confront me in public.” I shake my head, snickering as I do. “But I swear to every last person around us, if you so much as speak to her again, I will eat your balls for breakfast. If you really want to try me, so much as even look in her direction, and you’ll be lucky if you keep your eyesight. Understand?”

Kade’s lips go wide in a grin. “I don’t know what she told you but she asked for it. She likes it rough, she’s a kinky little vixen but… I guess you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

My blood turns ice cold yet anger boils through me faster than I can control it. In a split second, one of my hands is clenched around his shirt while the other is around his neck. Before I can mutter another threat, someone throws all their weight on me, tackling me to the ground. My eyes are already playing tricks on me from the spike in my blood pressure but I know for certain that Naj is sitting on top of me. I squirm, trying to get unpinned from underneath him until I hear Murph’s voice. My pleasantly plump lieutenant is shoving his finger into Kade Sumerton’s chest and although his voice is low, I hear every word he says.

“I don’t know about you, asshole, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want the entire fire department after my ass, would you?” Kade smirks and Murph takes a step closer to him, his pot belly rubbing against Kade’s flat stomach. “Keep it up. Ask the last medic that messed with one of our guys, he still hasn’t found his truck. You mess with one, you mess with all of us, your choice.”

Murph turns and signals to Naj who lets me up but grabs hold of my shirt as he does, forcing me to walk in his direction. Once we’re out of earshot, Murph looks at me and shrugs. “You don’t fuck with the brotherhood, he’ll learn.”

Brotherhood. I can’t help but smile and repeat the word. “Brotherhood?”

Naj rolls his eyes, finally letting go of me. “Yeah, Jefferson, whether we like it or not, you’re part of the brotherhood.”

“Been part of it since the day you got your letter that you were assigned to Engine 58.” Murph narrows his eyes at me and slaps me on the back. “Don’t think it was any coincidence that we got you on our engine.”

I open my mouth to ask what he means but he shakes his head. Naj glares across the parkway at Kade and moves his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly as he does. I smile, I’m part of the brotherhood. It’s good to know these guys have my back… and finally, Mariana has my heart.

 

Mariana

 

I’m pacing back and forth across the apartment, my stomach literally eating itself as I wait for P.J. to get home. I swear the acid in my stomach is eating a hole through the lining and I want to double over in pain but I keep walking. If I stop moving, my mind will start to overanalyze all the events that have happened over the last couple days. My face is a slightly paler shade of purple but no amount of makeup is covering up the mess that Kade left behind. Still, that pales in comparison to how my heart is reacting to everything with P.J..

I drop to the couch, pulling my legs to my chest and rocking slightly as I recall our night of passion. In one day, I got slapped around like a rag doll and let myself go too far with P.J.. As good as it felt to be with him, it hurt me so bad to see how happy he was. I want to let my guard down, I want to let him love me, I want to love him, but I’m too afraid. I’m not scared in the sense that I think he’ll treat me the way Kade did, I’m scared that if things go south, I’ll lose my home and my best friend.

The door isn’t open yet and I can already hear P.J. whistling in the hallway. I jump off the couch and resume pacing, hating that I’m about to break his heart. But I need to find me, find Mariana, the strong woman that got me to where I am today, not the one that was beaten and turned to sex to try to hide all the emotional baggage that it created. I used P.J. and I’m so ashamed which is why I need to end this before it goes any further.

The door swings open and P.J.’s smile greets me. I almost let my guard down and mirror his image. He walks over to me and I take in every inch of him, trying to remember every single detail in case I never see him again. The length of his nose, the way his lips curl into that smile, making his dimple bigger, and those gorgeous deep brown eyes that I could stare into forever… except that if I do, I’ll only be reminded of how I used him to cover the pain of what Kade Sumerton did to me. Closer to me, he reaches out and grabs my hips, pulling my body to his and the physical pain I’ve been experiencing all day grows.

“How was your day?” he asks, dropping his head and kissing my cheek.

Biting my bottom lip, my fingers fiddle with the cross hanging around his neck. Tears swarm my eyes and I can’t look up, I’m falling apart before I even begin. P.J. brushes the back of his hand against my cheek and kisses my forehead.

“You’re okay, Mariana. I’m here, you’re safe now,” he whispers.

Despite every part of my brain telling me not to, I slide my arms around him, hugging him tightly and not wanting to let go. I want to hold on to this man forever except that if I do, I’ll always be haunted by what happened to me. I knew better than to go any further with him last night, he knew better and tried to stop us but I didn’t listen. I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought I was in control—that’s where I went wrong. Suddenly, it hits me why I did what I did with P.J.. When I was with Kade, I’d lost all control, I was hopeless, at his beck and call, and that’s why I so desperately wanted to be with P.J. so I could gain back control.

“He won’t bother you anymore. If he does, the entire FDNY will go after him and he knows that.”

I look up at P.J., wiping my eyes. “What?”

His lips slip into a wide grin. “The brotherhood. They’ve got my back. No one will mess with you, Mari.”

I smile, yet the ends of my lips drop slightly. I know how badly P.J. wanted to be accepted by the firefighters in his unit. Surprisingly, it took my bad situation for him to get his wish.

Reaching out, I touch his cheek and nod. “The brotherhood.” I pick up the cross that hangs around his neck and slide it back and forth along the chain. “Good.”

P.J. nods proudly. “How’d you get out of being paired with him today?”

I suck in my cheeks, biting them to keep from crying. “I walked into the office. My supervisor didn’t say anything, just assigned me to another rig.”

“Fuck,” P.J. mutters. “He does this often. That’s so fucked up, someone needs to teach him a lesson.”

“It’s not your battle, P.J., let it go.” He starts to interrupt me and I stop him, putting my finger to his lips and sliding the cross faster. “We need to talk about something else.”

His smile disappears and he nods, already knowing what I’m implying. His hands move to my hips and he squeezes them, opening his mouth to start but I speak quickly.

“We can’t be together, P.J.. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but I was wrong the other night. I shouldn’t have let things go that far.”

P.J. nods. “I agree, I should’ve stopped it but I thought it was what you wanted. I’m so sorry, Mari, if I made you feel—”

I shake my head. “No! You didn’t make me feel any way. I love being with you… like that,” I add on before he looks too far into my statement. “But it was my way of coping and I shouldn’t have used you like that.”

P.J. pulls his hands off my hips and shrugs. “It’s fine, Mar. I don’t mind and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

I purse my lips before speaking then nod. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I think we should both stay in our own rooms—”

“What? No, come on, Mari! I want you—”

“P.J., you and I can’t be anything more than friends. I’m sorry.” There. I ripped the Band Aid off and now my best friend, the man I probably love, is standing here staring at me as though I’m speaking another language. Knowing there’s nothing else to say, I push up on my tippy toes, kissing his lips one last time then I head to my bedroom. Slamming the door behind me, I collapse on the bed, curling into a tiny ball and knowing my world will never be whole again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Slamming the glass tumbler on the counter, I roll my tongue around my lips, enjoying the last taste of Scotch. The bartender looks my way, giving me the evil eye as though I might break his precious glass. It’s not like it’s the only cup left in the joint. Hell, he could just give me the bottle and I’d be happy. He makes his way down the bar and sets another cup in front of me but it’s plastic this time.

“Dude, you’re here almost every night. You know it would be cheaper to just buy the booze and drink at home, right?”

I scoff, taking a long gulp of the alcohol. “I’m avoiding home, can’t you tell?”

More like Mariana is avoiding me. When she told me we couldn’t be more than friends, I thought maybe if I gave her a little space, she’d come around but she didn’t. She waits for me to get in the shower then sneaks out of the apartment so we don’t have to cross paths. She locks herself in her room, pretending like she isn’t there so we don’t have to see each other. After a week, I figured I’d make it easier on her and just not come home.

The bartender smirks. “Yeah, that’s obvious. What’s your old woman mad at you about?”

I polish off my drink and start to slam it down, only for the plastic to crack as it hits the bar. “She’s mad because I love her.”

The burly man behind the counter puckers his lips and moves his head up and down. “Well… I can’t help ‘ya there but there’s a cute blonde at the end of the counter if you’re interested, she’s single.”

He walks away and I stare into the new cup of Scotch he sets in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I check out the woman he’s talking about. She’s got short blonde hair and is wearing a pair of shorts that barely cover anything. She wiggles her fingers in my direction, and immediately, I know she’s not the type of woman I’m interested in. Then again, the only woman that is my type is one that I can’t have. Still, I nod my head, inviting her to join me. Slowly, and very seductively, she makes her way down the length of the bar until she’s sitting on the barstool next to me.

“Hey,” she says, not even making an effort to start the conversation.

I let my eyes roam up and down her body, not saying a word in return. Turning my attention back to my Scotch, I take a sip, fighting with the angel and devil sitting on each side of my shoulders. The rationale, non-drunk part of me knows this is a bad idea. I should finish my drink and walk out of here alone, back to my lonely apartment where the woman I love hides behind her bedroom door.

A slender hand touches my thigh. I glance down to see my new drinking buddy is running her bright pink fingernails up and down my leg. The part of me that hates the world right now, including myself, says fuck it. If Mariana doesn’t want me then why should I hold back? I’m not looking to marry this girl, just distract myself from my breaking heart.

“You wanna get out of here?” I ask, not even looking in her direction.

She giggles and squeezes my thigh. “Sure.”

I throw some money on the counter and stand up, not wasting the time to motion for her to follow. The click of her heels lets me know she’s right behind me and I start to have second thoughts but I don’t turn around. If I do, I’ll tell her not to come with me. I’ll probably break down and tell her all about Mariana and tell her the truth that I’m only using her to cover up the pain she caused me. So I forge ahead, pushing the door open wide enough that she can follow me out and I don’t have to wait for her. Once we’re on the sidewalk, she picks up the pace and her hand grabs hold of my arm, latching onto me whether I like it or not.

“So,” she pants, almost out of breath from having to run to catch me, “what’s your name?”

I stop and turn to her. “Does it matter?”

She pauses, her face dropping into surprise and she shrugs. “Well… I mean…”

“Look, we both know where this is headed. If you didn’t want to do this, you wouldn’t have followed me out of the bar. So, does it really matter if we know each other’s names or not?”

My words are cold and callous, I know, but I’m done sugar coating shit. Judging from the look in her eyes and the way she lunges for me, my tone and what I said doesn’t bother her. Her pink nails grasp the sides of my face and her matching pink lips land on mine, kissing me vigorously. For a few seconds, I don’t react, my mind still wishing I was kissing Mariana and not this stranger. Finally, I snap out of it, moving my hands to her hair and kissing her back forcefully.

I break our embrace and nod down the street. “Come on, my place is around the corner…”

 

Mariana

 

The television plays, what I’m not sure, but the sound lets me know it’s on and I’m still alive. Lately, that’s all my days consist of, some kind of reminder that lets me know I’m still living and breathing because I don’t feel like it. I stare at the colorful lights on the screen, not making out any images because my brain replays the same one over and over. Blinking, I turn away from the box of technology and look out my bedroom window. I rub my eyes, trying to clear my mind and I hate myself. I hate myself for falling into this dark hole that has no escape. There are so many other women out there who have been in much worse situations than mine.

I was beat around some but I’ve recovered physically so why can’t I mentally? While my face is no longer purple, I’m still sick to my stomach, constantly worrying about what if things had gone further. I only infuriate myself more when I think about how ‘easy’ I have it compared to other women. I’m not a victim, not like them, yet here I am feeling sorry for myself and not letting go of it. For the other part of my body that aches, well, I prefer not to think about it.

The front door slams shut, scaring me as it’s louder than the show on the television. I jump and spin around toward the noise. Holding my breath, I wait for P.J. to make his way to his bedroom, sneaking in quietly like he’s done since I pretty much ended our friendship. A shrill giggle, louder than the slamming door, takes over the television.

Grabbing the remote, I flip off the T.V. and take a deep breath before opening my bedroom door. As soon as I see P.J. with his hands all over the blonde, I think I might puke. Sure, I’ve seen him with other women before but never in our apartment, this is our place, our home, and we don’t bring people home, not like this. I clear my throat but it’s not loud enough over the woman’s moans and giggles. My hands shake nervously as I yell out his name and he looks in my direction. I raise my eyebrows, asking “What the hell?” with them and the response I get guts me. P.J. lifts his shoulders slightly and dips his mouth back to her neck. Tears in my eyes, I slam my bedroom door, trying to sort out my thoughts because I know there’s no hope for sorting out my emotions.

“What’s her problem?” P.J.’s play thing asks in an irritated voice, putting emphasis on the word ‘her.’

I can’t hear his response as his voice is so low that it only comes through as a mumble on my side of the door. A few seconds later, I hear his bedroom door click shut and tears fall faster than raindrops in a thunderstorm. In a haste, I grab my suitcase from my closet and start throwing everything within reach into the carrier. This isn’t helping me and it isn’t helping P.J. either. I need to be away to figure out my messed up mind on my own, not with the distraction and hurt of being around him.

Ten minutes later, I push open my bedroom door, toting my overflowing suitcase with me. One step out of my room and I run into P.J.’s broad chest, welcomed by his colorful tattoos and his cross necklace bouncing off my chest then against his.

He grabs my suitcase, trying to take it from me and shakes his head. “Where the hell are you going?”

I turn my head, trying to escape the liquor that permeates from his breath. “Don’t you have someone to entertain?”

He shrugs. “She can wait.”

This being the first time we’ve spoken in weeks mixed with my anger, my heart beats viciously against my chest. “Why is she here?”

P.J. scoffs, his dimple that I normally love but hate in this moment appearing. “I don’t think I really need to explain that.”

I wipe my eyes, suddenly aware that I’m still crying and hating that he’s seeing me this way. “We both agreed, no bringing people back here so why’d you do it?”

P.J. drops his chin, avoiding my eyes. I let go of my suitcase, shoving him in the chest with both my hands. The tears keep coming but I don’t hide them anymore.

“Why, P.J., why? To hurt me? To prove that you don’t need me—”

“Because I love you, Mariana! Dammit!” He grabs my hands, holding them against his chest. “You fuckin’ pushed me away when all I wanted was to love you. I needed something to get you to feel again, to make you see that you felt the same way, too.”

I scoff. “You loved me so that’s why you brought home some chick to screw?” I shake my head. “You’re almost as messed up as me, Jefferson.”

He squeezes his hands around mine. “Don’t say that, Mari,” he whispers and I know he’s referring to me calling him by his last name.

I shrug and stop fighting him, letting my hands go limp. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go somewhere else to get over everything.”

P.J. nods, kissing my forehead. “Okay, go, get things straightened out then you’ll be back, right?”

I chew on my bottom lip nervously, his question solidifying my answer. “No.”

His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “What the fuck, Mariana? You can’t just leave. Whatever you need to straighten out, I’ll help you. We can do it together… don’t go!”

I turn sideways, slipping past him and heading for the front of the apartment. “Goodbye, P.J..” I don’t bother to look at him for a reaction. It’s the first time I’ve ever told him goodbye and physical pain runs from my heart to every inch of my body. I’ve never been so scared in my life to walk away from someone. Considering what I’ve been through in the last month, that’s saying a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

“I don’t know what to do with this kid. I’m at my wits end.”

“Come on, Murph. He can’t be that bad.”

Naj scoffs. “You haven’t seen him, O’Neil. He’s got no self-control, the kid’s a wild card.”

I close my eyes, listening to the veterans talk about me to some guy I’ve never seen before. Standing outside the kitchen door, I stay quiet so I can find out exactly what my brothers of fire think about me. Internally, I laugh, because they aren’t my brothers, that was all for show in front of another department. If it came down to it, they would never have my back.

The outsider laughs. “Come on, Murph, I used to be your wild card and you tamed me.”

“Yeah but you had both Garritys around to tame you. This kid doesn’t respond to anything. I’ve tried being his pal, being a hardass, I even sent him to Boone’s training down in Dallas.”

“Boone didn’t help?”

“It did for a little bit but then he went back to his old ways. Jesse, I’m not kidding, you know I always give probys the benefit of the doubt but I don’t know how much more of this one I can handle.”

“If you can get Doyle to come around, Murph, then I’m sure you can get this kid to see the way.”

That’s a shocker. Patrick Doyle does not remind me any bit of myself. That guy is straight and narrow, barely muttering a single sentence during our shift. I was already intrigued by him before but now I really want to know his story. I hear the salt and pepper shakers clang and there’s a clatter as something, probably Murph’s hand, hits the kitchen table.

“Dammit, O’Neil. I don’t know if I can!”

There’s a silence as everyone soaks in Murph’s reaction. If I didn’t feel like shit before, I sure do now. Maybe Mariana has the right idea to get the hell out of this town, disappear from everything and everyone she knows, and just start over. Of course, I don’t know that’s exactly what she’s doing but that’s how I’ve played it out in my head.

Not wanting to hear any more about how awful I am, I push off the wall and enter the kitchen. All three men glance in my direction but don’t even flinch or act like they care that I might’ve overheard. I nod in their direction, walking to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

As I unscrew the cap, I stare at the guy I don’t know. He sits at the table with Naj and Murph like they’re old buddies. A slight tinge of jealousy surges through me that I’ve never had that familiarity with any of the guys. He’s a pretty boy with his dark hair and a face that ladies love, I’m sure. I’ve seen it at bars, women drop their panties for a guy like him. He’s not in uniform which is odd because most guys who stop by, off duty or not, have some sort of FDNY something on so I’m assuming he isn’t part of the department.

“Hey,” the stranger says, waving his hand in my direction.

I nod again, not sure how to introduce myself. Naj stands up, heading out of the kitchen and Murph points at me.

“Jefferson, O’Neil. O’Neil, Jefferson.”

O’Neil stands up and crosses the room to me. He extends his hand and I accept it, both of us tightening our grips to show our manliness. His mouth slides into a half smile as he responds to Murph’s thorough introduction.

“Nice to meet you, Jefferson. Murph here used to my lieutenant.”

I pull my hand back, crossing my arms. “Where ‘ya at now?”

“Fire inspector in Baltimore. How’s it working with these guys?”

I shake my head and head for the exit. “You already know.”

The alarm shrills throughout the firehouse, a noise I used to love and look forward to, but these days, I couldn’t care less. Murph wobbles past me in a rush while I take my time moving toward the bay. I’m pushed forward slightly when someone slaps me on the back. I turn around and see O’Neil grinning at me.

“Come on, you’re with me.”

I shake my head, still not moving any faster. “I’m with Naj.”

“Nah, today you’re with me. Now, let’s move it before we get left behind.”

He plants his hand firmly in the center of my back, guiding us to the engine faster. I roll my eyes, irritated that this ex-firefighter who has had to resort to being an inspector thinks he has my back. I’m sure he’s just going to fake it like Murph, Naj, and the rest of the guys… brotherhood my ass.

 

Mariana

 

Riding along aimlessly on one of my last shifts, I close my eyes and let my mind wander. My new partner doesn’t talk much which is fine by me. I only have to get through a couple more shifts and then I’m leaving New York behind. A new start, a chance to begin again… I should be happy, right? Well, I’m not.

I love my job. It’s my dream occupation. I’ve wanted nothing more than to help people and save lives on a daily basis, it doesn’t get much better than that. Being a paramedic in New York City is as good as it gets. I’m in the city that never sleeps which means there’s always someone that needs to be saved. In less than a week, I’ll be headed home to a town with a population of one-hundred-thirty-five. I’ll be lucky if I run a call once a week, that is, after one of the current medics croaks and I can take his job.

Also, it should be noted that in a town that small, there isn’t many people my age. Most of them were smart enough to get the hell out of town the second the diploma hit our hands. I was one of them but it’s obvious that this small town girl isn’t cut out for the big city living. The last few weeks, I’ve been playing the “what if” game.

What if I’d never met P.J.? Well, then I wouldn’t have even lasted a month in the city because there was no way I could make rent on my salary alone. What if I hadn’t fought my feelings for P.J. so hard? Well, who knows? We could either be happily together or right where we are now. What if I hadn’t been so determined to prove to P.J. that I could date someone other than him? Well… then I wouldn’t have been almost raped.

I gasp out loud, quickly opening my eyes. Saying that word, if only in my mind, is so much harder than I imagined. Mentally, I’ve been blocking that thought although it’s been at the front of my mind ever since it happened. What if P.J. hadn’t shown me how to defend myself? Then Kade would have fully taken advantage of me and there wouldn’t have been a damn thing I could have done about it. The ambulance suddenly feels tiny and the oxygen is leaking out of the vehicle but none is coming back in. Hyperventilating, I roll down my window trying to get any little bit of air I can find.

“Whoa, Barbosa, what’s going on? You okay?” my new partner Riggs asks, glancing over at me while trying to keep his eyes on the road at the same time.

I nod, although I’m anything but okay. An image of me in the side mirror catches my attention and I focus on myself. I watch my chest rapidly pumping up and down until it almost becomes cathartic. Slowly, watching myself in the tiny mirror, I calm down so that I don’t look like a completely crazed woman.

“What the hell was that?” Riggs repeats, shaking his head. “Do you need medical attention?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, reaching over to turn up the radio. My finger touches the knob but before I can crank up the tunes, the dispatcher crackles across our radio.

“Calling all medical and fire units to 3-7-1 Eleventh Street. Unknown number of victims inside.”

Riggs lets out a wicked laugh as he turns on the siren. I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes again. This is not the kind of day I was hoping for…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

A peaceful glow illuminates the area around the burning warehouse. It’s easy to get mesmerized by the beautiful ways that fire works. It’s moments like these that remind me why I wanted to be a firefighter. I always thought Fire Department New York was where I wanted to spend my career but with my short time here, I’ve come to the realization that I don’t want to be a part of this exclusive crew. Hell, I don’t even want to be a part of this city.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

I glance to my left where Jesse O’Neil is smiling up at the fire. He’s wearing full on FDNY bunker gear and it irks me. He might have been part of the department way back when but he’s not now. The fact that he can so easily walk in and put on the uniform while I bust my ass and barely get to run calls pisses me off so I’m not real happy that he’s planning to run this fire with me.

I shrug. “We doing this or what?”

He looks over at me with a sparkle in his eye that I’ve seen before. I see it every shift from every firefighter. It’s the love we have for the inferno, the thrill of the challenge. When a building is engulfed in flames, we have absolutely no control over it and we do everything in our power to try to overpower it. Funny, that’s just like life… like Mariana and me.

O’Neil pats me on the back and takes a step toward the building, expecting me to follow him. I sigh, knowing I have no other choice. Well, I do have a choice, I could disobey and get fired which would be fine by me since I’m giving my two weeks as soon as we get back to the fire station. Sighing, I trudge behind him ready to get this torture over.

Our breathing masks on, I trail behind the veteran FDNY firefighter, hating him more and more every step of the way. The first three floors already claimed, O’Neil and I enter the fourth floor. Quickly, we clear the floor but instead of moving on, he stands in the middle of the room like a statue.

“Come on,” I mutter, heading toward the stairwell.

“Watch it.” He points to a line of fire dancing across the wall. “Look at her move. She’s so elegant and graceful, unaware of the damage she makes.”

I stare at the spot he’s looking at and listen to his words, knowing he’s not just talking about the fire.

“Why’d you leave?”

He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the dancing flames. “A girl.” He glances over at me. “Why are you going to leave?”

I stare blankly at him for a few seconds then shrug. “A girl. Was your girl worth it?”

Even through his mask, I can see his smile as he nods. “Definitely.”

“I hate the guys here,” I admit, not caring anymore about trying to fit in.

O’Neil turns to me. “They’re good guys who would do anything in the world for you.”

I scoff and shake my head. “I doubt that.”

He hits my shoulder, squeezing it as best he can through our gear. “I don’t. I’ve seen a guy give his life for a proby, a guy he barely knew. Once you become part of the department, you’re part of the brotherhood… even if they hate you.”

He smiles at that last comment and I roll my eyes. “What proby?”

The smile dissolves and he turns away from me, heading for the stairwell. “Doyle.”

O’Neil is already halfway up the stairs by the time I catch up to him. “Wait, what did you say?”

He turns to me, a scowl on his face. “My wife’s first husband, my best friend, gave his life to save Doyle’s. Don’t take it for granted that any one of these guys would do the same for you or any other proby out there.”

Pushing open the door next to the seven written on the wall, O’Neil moves forward, ending our conversation for the moment. Taking his lead, I chase behind him, trying to keep up. I ponder the information he just shared. It all makes sense now why Doyle keeps to himself, he has to carry around the guilt of living while someone died for him. My brain won’t let go of this thought, it was cycling through my mind over and over until the last piece of the puzzle clicked.

“Garrity!” I call out.

Jesse O’Neil stops and turns toward me. Before he can answer me, I’m freefalling as the floor beneath me gives out. With no time to react, I have no chance to fight. Then, as quickly as I fell, I stop, suspended in mid-air. Reaching up, I flip my mask off so I can look up and see what stopped me. With gritted teeth, O’Neil stares down at me, lying on his stomach. Our eyes lock. Our lives balance with each other, whether we live or die depends on if we work together or separately. If I take another breath outside of this inferno rests in the hands of a man I just met, my brother of fire.

 

Mariana

 

The entire street is illuminated by the burning building. Stepping out of the ambulance, I watch in awe at the beauty of the beast in front of us. When I’m working, I see broken arms, bloody gashes, mainly all gory injuries. P.J. and the rest of his crew are lucky they get to work with this natural beauty although its destruction is sometimes deadly.

Still hypnotized, a thunderous clatter snaps me back to reality. Windows pop halfway up the building, raining glass and fire over those of us underneath. I throw up my arm, protecting my face until the glass shower stops. Instantly, the radios around us start to buzz and the first responders move a little quicker. I scan the fire engines at the scene and my heart sinks when I read 58 on the side of one of them. Running toward the engine, I look for P.J. but don’t see him anywhere. I stop beside an older man with a pot belly who is screaming into the radio.

“Talk to me, O’Neil! What’s going on up there?”

The radio is silent then screeches white noise. The firefighter, his shirt says Murphy, repeats his question, taking a few steps to the left as he waits for an answer. Finally, a voice comes through the radio.

“Murph… tell Kate I—”

The radio cuts out and Murphy turns to the guys standing beside the engine. “Get in there! Nothing’s happening to that kid on my watch and I sure as hell ain’t about to make Katy Garrity a widow for the second time.” The men stand there until Murphy screams at them. “GO! Get me some gear and I’ll go in there myself!”

The firefighters jump into action, bringing him bunker gear, and heading inside themselves. I grab the helmet someone is trying to hand to Murphy and hold it until he looks up for it. Having his full attention, I look into his eyes and lift my shoulders trying to find some sort of confidence that I lost long ago.

“Who’s the kid?”

He shakes his head, reaching for his helmet. I pull it out of his reach and ask again. “Who is the kid?”

His lips drop into a deeper frown and he holds out his hand. Reluctantly, I hand it over, knowing he won’t give me an answer. Murphy pulls the helmet over his head but before he walks toward the danger awaiting him, he takes my hand and squeezes it lightly.

“I’ll take care of Jefferson for you, don’t worry.”

My stomach flips as I watch Murphy march into that burning building that has my P.J. hurt somewhere inside. My heart burns with a pain I’ve never felt before and it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, even that slap to the face from Kade. I take a step toward the blaze… then I take one more... then another… and another until my cheeks are warmed by the proximity of the fire. As I lift my foot to take one more step, a hand wraps around my waist, holding me back from a treacherous decision.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul

 

Dangling like a pendant isn’t exactly how I saw things ending for me but here I am, swinging back and forth in the hands of Jesse O’Neil. This is nothing like the movies portray when someone dies, there’s no white light flashing at me, a reel of the greatest highlights of my life aren’t playing. In fact, the only thing on my mind is that I wish I could tell Mariana one more time that I love her.

“Come on, Jefferson, hang in there,” O’Neil mutters through his clenched jaw.

Looking down, I can see straight to the bottom of the building, seven floors down. I wonder if the fall would kill me before the fire. Sweat runs down my face, stinging my eyes but I laugh because it’s the least of the pain that’s about to come.

“Let go,” I say calmly.

“Fuck that,” O’Neil responds, still struggling as he’s holding all of my body weight. “We don’t work that way. Firefighters don’t work that way. You go down…” He adjusts his grip on my jacket as best he can before finishing, “I go down.”

I look up at him and shake my head. “I’m not worth it.”

He shakes his head through his strained face. “Your girl doesn’t think that.”

The radio comes back alive and Murph’s voice screams through it. “Talk to me, O’Neil! What’s going on up there?”

With one hand, I reach up, ready to pry O’Neil’s fingers off my coat, my only lifeline to safety. He grits his teeth and shakes his head, speaking in spurts as he talks to me.

“I married my best friend’s wife, both of my kids have one parent dead so I get it, life is screwed up… trust me, I know, but it gets easier… and better. Anything in life that’s good is worth fighting for so fight for your own life here and get out there and win the girl.”

Mariana. I want her. She’s good. She sure as hell is worth fighting for. I’m willing to give up my dream of being a FDNY firefighter to leave her alone if that’s what she wants but I don’t want to leave her alone. I want to make her see that we’re meant for each other, that I love her, and that she’s my entire world.

Shifting my weight, I look up at Jesse O’Neil, still a stranger to me but forever a brother in fire no matter what happens in the next few seconds. Swinging my left arm up, I reach out for O’Neil, clutching his jacket as I try to gain leverage.

He nods, adjusting his hand to help me. “That’s it… come on… pull…don’t look down. Jefferson, keep your eyes on me,” O’Neil coaches me, trying to get us back on the same level.

Then, like fire does because she has a mind of her own, the flames and heat flash over the ceiling of the sixth floor… exactly where I’m dangling. My mask gone, the heat attacks me and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the smell of burnt flesh and hair. I try to scream out my pain but the fire muffles my cries and jumps into my mouth. The last thing I hear is O’Neil’s voice, “Murph… tell Kate I love her…” and then the weight of the world is gone as I black out and drop out of the sky.

 

Mariana

 

Looking up into the eyes of the person holding me at the waist, tears flood down my cheeks and I shake my head, shrieking like a wild woman. I shove my hands against the firefighter’s chest although he’s a solid wall of muscle. I’m doing nothing but wasting my energy but in my irrational state of mind, I keep beating on him in hopes he’ll let me go so I can run into the burning building and find P.J. myself.

“Whoa, ma’am, calm down!”

“Calm down? Calm down? Get me Jefferson and I’ll chill out!” I scream even though I’m mere inches away from his face.

His grasp gets tighter on my waist and his face softens. “He’s with O’Neil, he’s one of the best.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. I want to see him and I want to see him now!”

My wish is my command as a pack of firefighters exit the building, two of them carrying limp, lifeless bodies over their shoulders. All of my energy is zapped and the firefighter that was holding me back is now holding me up. I watch them lie each body on a stretcher and the paramedics jump into action.

“Come on, ma’am. You can wait over here until there’s any news.”

I look up at the firefighter. He has a baby face, unlike every other firefighter I’ve ever met. The fire ages them as does the stress of the job but not this guy. He is stoically calm and the look of desperation on his face to get me to move almost makes me go with him. Instead, I take off in a sprint, running to the first stretcher.

“Who is this?” Murphy asks, throwing off his mask and breathing heavy.

“I can’t tell yet, sir,” the medic responds.

I look down at the body and cringe. His mask is gone and his face has been seared by the fire, all that’s left is charred skin that’s been melted. Suddenly, the stench of burning human flesh overpowers me and I feel sick to my stomach. Carefully, the medic cuts off the injured firefighter’s jacket and I gasp as I recognize the colorful tattoos and the cross necklace I last touched when I pushed P.J. away. Murphy turns to me and points in the opposite direction, calling for another one of his men to take me away.

“Get her out of here!” he barks at his crew.

A hand takes mine and starts to pull me away. I keep my eyes trained on P.J. until I see his hand raise and reach for his face. Jerking my arm quickly, I get away from my captive and run back to the gurney, grabbing his hand before he touches his burns.

“P.J.! It’s Mariana, I’m here!” I shout, not knowing the extent of the damage that’s been done to him.

He wastes no time squeezing my hand and tears, happy, relieved tears fall from my eyes. I bring his hand to my lips and kiss it. The medics work on his wounds but I don’t let go of his hand because I never will.

“I’m so sorry, P.J., I didn’t mean to say goodbye.” My tears flow faster and I’m overcome with so many emotions but all I can manage to say is one reassurance. “I’ll never say it again, I promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mariana

 

Crossing back and forth in the waiting room, I fidget with P.J.’s cross necklace. The hospital is quiet, at least the room we’re in is, but there’s also a wall of firefighters blocking the entrance so no one can bother us. The hallways are also littered with more first responders waiting to see how the two wounded firefighters will be. If I had any tears left, I would let them fall as I’m overcome by the support and I suddenly understand the brotherhood and why it was so important to P.J..

P.J.’s been in surgery for hours now and I desperately want nothing more than for my hand to be in his. Murphy had to pry my hand away from P.J.’s as they tried to load him into the ambulance and it’s never felt more empty than now. Those surgeons don’t know it but they have two hearts in that operating room—P.J.’s and mine.

A commotion at the wall of brothers catches my attention and my grief and stress jump to anger that someone is trying to invade our space. Murphy moves and a gorgeous woman in her thirties with long brunette hair walks through the crowd. Her face is pale as she looks at Murphy for answers. Not wanting to miss anything myself, I walk over to the two of them.

“Give me an update, Murph,” the woman begs.

He shakes his head, his hand running over his pot belly. “I don’t have one, Katy. We’re waiting for the doctors to get Jess out of surgery.”

She nods. “What about the other firefighter, is he okay?”

Murphy looks at me then back to Katy. The lady turns to me and without a word, she wraps her arms around me, pulling me in tightly for a hug. Murphy nods, letting me know this is normal for this kind of situation. Either way, the emotional support is much needed after being surrounded by emotionless men all evening. I squeeze her tightly, one teardrop falling down my cheek after another which surprises me because I thought I was all cried out. She holds me until I pull away, content with whatever this moment was supposed to provide.

The lady gives a smile and extends her hand. “Katy Garrity, Jesse O’Neil’s wife.”

Looking down, I stare at her hand, ironic that we’re shaking hands now after that embrace. I place my hand in hers and move them up and down. “Mariana Barbosa, Paul Jefferson’s…” I trail off, unsure what I am.

Katy rubs her thumb over my cheek. “Loved one. If you’re here for him then you’re his loved one.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod. Push come to shove, I will always love P.J., he will always be my loved one. Now, I just hope that I didn’t push too much and there’s still a chance for us to grow on that term loved one.

Katy points to a set of chairs. “Why don’t we sit? It’s going to be a long road to recovery for both our boys so we should get our rest while we can.”

Following her, I take a seat, pulling my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees like a small child. For a brief moment, I wish I were a small child without a care in the world. Tears clog my eyes again and I squeeze them shut, trying to keep them at bay.

“I take it this is your first time in this kind of situation?

I nod, turning my head to look at her. “P.J.’s been with the department for almost a year. He’s good at what he does, I never expected this.”

Katy smiles softly. “No one ever does. It doesn’t matter how good they are, the fire dictates what happens in there. Fighting fires is the ultimate game of gambling. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve worked or how much they’ve studied, there’s no way to prepare for every possible situation.”

“How long has your husband been a firefighter?”

“Over a decade but I’ve been a part of the FDNY family for thirty years. My father was a firefighter and so was my first husband. They were both damn good at their jobs but that didn’t save them.”

Fear washes over me at her words and apparently it’s evident on my face. Katy reaches over, rubbing my back and shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Mariana, I didn’t mean to scare you!” She leans over, resting her cheek against mine. “I know all of this is new and scary but I can tell you’re a strong woman. You know, everyone always says how brave and tenacious the firefighters are but the same goes for the family that stands behind them. You have one job and one job only, support them as best you can and if you believe in prayer, you pray they come home safely at the end of every shift.”

Lifting my head up, I swallow the lump in my throat and look into her eyes. “And what if they don’t?”

“Today, they do,” she says in a voice that is so confident that I believe her.

A man clears his throat and we both turn to look at the surgeon.

“Good to see you, Dr. Garrity.”

Katy smiles and the doctor looks from her to me then back to her again. The surgeon coughs and my stomach sinks that he’s about to give bad news.

“Firefigher O’Neil is in stable condition. He has severe third degree burns on his hands but the rest of his body didn’t get burned as badly thanks to his protective gear. He has a few broken ribs and also his collarbone. Somehow, Jesse took the brunt of the fall and kept them from falling more than one flight. Of course with his burns, he’ll be unable to use his hands until his burns begin to heal but he should regain use of his hands with no issues.”

Katy lets out her breath that she’d been holding. Without looking at me, she reaches over and takes my hand which I know isn’t a good sign. The doctor coughs two more times before he looks me directly in the eyes and begins to speak.

“Firefighter Jefferson did not have his helmet on so he received third degree burns all over his head and neck as well as his his left hand. He’s stable for now but in the ICU. He is at high risk for infection since he has so much raw skin exposed. He’s going to need an immense amount of reconstruction surgeries so we’ll monitor him and when we feel he’s strong enough, we’ll proceed. His recovery will all depend on how he’s progressing.”

I wipe my eyes with my free hand. “But… he’s alive and he’ll bounce back, right?”

Katy squeezes my hand and I look at her. “Yes, Mariana, he’s alive and he’ll heal but he won’t be the same Paul you know.”

I stand up, letting go of her hand and brushing off my pants. “I’m a paramedic, I know he’ll never look the same but all I care about is that he’s alive.”

Katy stands, looking at the surgeon then back to me. “Then yes, he’s alive.” She opens her mouth then closes it.

“What?”

She pauses then begins to speak slowly, carefully picking out her words. “Being completely honest, from one firefighter wife to another, the physical healing is the easy part. He’ll go through depression, he’ll block you out, he probably won’t ever work again and that’ll be just as hard on him as the physical changes to his body. You’re going to have to be his rock, Mariana. It’s not easy but that’s the role you step into when you love a firefighter.”

Stepping forward, I hug her. “I do. I love him.”

She embraces me, holding me tightly and nodding her head against mine. “Then you can do this.” Katy pulls away, holding me at an arm’s length and smiling. “And if you ever need anything, I’ll give you my number and I’ll just be a phone call away.”

I smile and realize that the brotherhood doesn’t end with the men of fire. It extends to a sisterhood of the women who love their firefighters.

 

Paul

 

Groggily, my eyes flutter open and my body answers by screaming out in the most severe pain I have ever felt. I try to mumble about how much I hurt but the pain intensifies. Concentrating on not feeling the torment, which is absolutely impossible, I try to open my eyes but there’s a white haze over them, making me unable to see around the room. Panic sets in and my breathing quickens as I feel like I’m trapped inside my body.

“Ssh, you’re okay,” a sweet voice assures me and I feel her hand inside mine. I squeeze her hand, urging her to keep talking. It’s the perfect distraction to how horrible I feel. Her soft hand squeezes back and she speaks again. “I love you, P.J., and I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

My heart skips a beat at Mariana’s confession and I can only grip her hand tighter in response. Her lips touch the backs of my knuckles and her thumb rubs a circle in the palm of my hand.

“After what Kade did to me, I was afraid I would never be myself again, that I would never be comfortable being intimate with another man. I used you, P.J., because I knew I could trust you. I thought you would be able to heal me and while both times that we’ve been together have been amazing, nothing compares to just being with you. That’s when I feel like me, the woman I’m supposed to be. I feel safe and comfortable and I feel loved… because I know you love me and I love you, too.”

The start of her admission doesn’t help my pain, my anger only burns me more. By the time she gets to the end, I’m relieved that she finally gets it, finally gets us. I want to respond to her, tell her she’s right but my voice won’t work so I try to nod my head, not sure if I’m even moving it as I clutch her hand even harder.

“Now it’s my turn to heal you but I know I can’t. The doctors said it’s going to be a long road of pain, both physically and mentally. I won’t be able to take any of that away from you but I promise I will be by your side every step of the way. You won’t do any of this alone, ever, P.J.. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

I pump my hand against hers to give an affirmative answer.

Mariana laughs, kissing the back of my hand again. “Although I could get used to you not talking… then I’d always get my way.”

Lowering my fingers except my index finger, I draw letters in her palm, one at a time.

Y-O-U A-L-W-A-Y-S D-O

I can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks.

“And you do, too, P.J.. It’s why we love each other, it’s why we’re a perfect match.”

 

THE END

 

Check out the other books in the Dallas Fire & Rescue Series at

 

If you like Perfect Match and the firefighters of FDNY Engine 58 then you'll love and Burst Into Flame. Check them out at

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First off, I want to thank for sharing this opportunity with me. Long before I was an author and I was blogging, I reached out to Melissa asking to review one of her books, little did I know what an amazing relationship would come from that simple question. When I finally decided I was ready to publish, Melissa took me under her wing, helping me with formatting and sharing my work throughout the indie writing community. She has included in me in amazing boxed sets, offered me support and guidance, and she’s the one that introduced me to Paige Tyler. Everyone needs a role model and mentor like Melissa Keir, the woman is amazing and I am forever grateful for everything she’s done for me. Thank you, Mel, you are the absolute best!

I also want to give a shout out to Dawn DiDominzio for beta reading for me, for your formatting skills and quick turnaround, Krissy from for your proofreading, and to for creating the cover and keeping me sane during the past few crazy weeks. To my devoted Lovers of Lyssa Layne, I am happy to give you a little bit more Jesse O’Neil and hope you enjoyed reading about the guys of Engine 58 again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lyssa Layne is first, and foremost, the proud momma to her precious daughter, AR. In addition to working full-time and being a mommy to AR, she is also an avid St. Louis Cardinals fan, a runner, blogger, and an infertility survivor.

Having watched one too many medical dramas and being inspired by author, who introduced her to the world of indie writing, Lyssa decided to try her hand at writing a romance story. Her attempt turned into the Burning Lovesick series. You can find Lyssa’s own interests throughout her stories although all stories are fictional.

 

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