by Roxie Noir
“So, what do you like to do?” she asked Sam.
“Well, I ski and I snowboard and bike and all that stuff,” he said, slowly. “But, honestly, I’m really into board games.”
Katie couldn’t help but raise both her eyebrows. “I love board games,” she said. “What’s your favorite?”
“Risk,” he said. “It’s hard to find people to play it with, though. Most of the guys on the fire squad aren’t really into it. Patrick’s a great guy, but you know, strategy board games aren’t his forte.”
“I love Risk,” Katie said, quickly. It was true. “The game, I mean. I’m not big on the concept in real life. We can’t all be whitewater rafting guides.”
Ashley stood, giving Katie a look. Katie knew it meant, I can’t believe that you’re talking about your nerdy games with this guy.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said. “Be right back.”
Katie and Sam both watched her walk away, across the almost-empty dance floor, the whirling lights moving across her body.
Sam leaned over the table. “When you’re finished with your drink, I just got this new two player game called Dos de Mayo about an uprising against Napoleon in Madrid.”
For a split second, Katie felt guilty. She was definitely going to leave right now, with this guy, only hours after Patrick had asked her out. Was she betraying her younger self in some way, by turning down the guy who she’d dreamed about for so long? Patrick felt like a god, totally unreachable. Even if he weren’t her patient — which he was, she reminded herself again — she’d be a little afraid to date him.
“If I finish it, I’ll never win,” she said, smirking. “Let’s go.”
“There,” she said, placing the final paying piece on the correct neighborhood of Madrid, looking at her spread of cards laid in front of her, the little blue and red squares dotting the board. Sitting across from her, Sam shook his head, his hair flopping around.
“You’re a machine,” he said. Unbelievable.
He stood and took their beer bottles into the kitchen of the place he was staying this month, then came back out. Katie also stood, stretching out her shoulders, tilting her neck from side to side.
Katie looked at the clock. It was almost one in the morning, hours after her usual bedtime, but she wasn’t tired.
“What are you looking at that clock for?” Sam teased. “The party’s just getting started.” He took one of her hands in his and gave it a gentle tug, pulling her up against him.
Katie smiled, looking up at him. He was a lot taller than her, she realized again, and he had the build of someone who spent most of their life in physical activity: broad but wiry. Obviously incredibly strong.
“I beat you twice,” she teased. “I think I get to make the demands here.”
“And what do you demand?”
Katie stood on her tiptoes, trying to get closer to him, but he still towered over her. “I demand that you bend down some,” she said, pulling at his shoulders.
Sam lowered himself by an inch, his teasing grin widening. “Close enough?”
“Come on!” Katie said, playfully hitting his shoulder.
He bent another inch. “How about now?”
“You’d almost think you didn’t want me to kiss you,” Katie said.
Then, realizing what she’d just said, Katie blushed.
She didn’t have time to think about it, though, because in one swift movement, Sam bent down and scooped her up. Katie yelped as she was born aloft in his strong arms, her arms around his neck.
“I won’t drop you,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “Sorry, I was surprised.”
He walked them a few feet to the couch, where he sat, Katie still on his lap. Now, she was slightly taller than him, her arms still on his shoulders.
“How’s that?” he said.
Finally, Katie bent down and kissed him, not bothering with any other response. She’d been waiting to do it all night, and Sam was more than eager, his lips warm and dry and yielding. He pressed back hard against her, gently cradling her head in his. His lips parted against hers, and she felt his tongue test gently at her mouth, and Katie opened her lips, eagerly letting him in, pushing her tongue against his, letting them tangle together.
Her hand crept around his face, and before Katie knew it, he had leaned her back into the couch and she was lying down against the cushions.
Amidst the heady rush of desire, he broke away from her and looked at her searchingly. Katie was panting for breath, the top of her dress all askew, and in a moment of clarity, she tugged at Sam’s shirt, trying to get it off.
He was happy to oblige her, tugging off his t-shirt and revealing a tight-sculpted body. Still breathing hard, she ran her fingers gently over the muscles in his shoulders, then tried to pull his heavy frame toward her, seeking his lips with her own, wrapping her skirt-clad legs around him. She could feel him hardening quickly against her, and it awoke her own arousal, a deep, burning ache inside her.
Katie almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the burst of static.
Nibbling along her collarbones, Sam went still.
“That’s my radio,” he said. “Shit.”
There was another crackle. “Four alarm in East Montpelier,” a man’s voice said. “All hands needed immediately.”
“Shit,” said Sam. He hoisted himself onto his arms, looking down at Katie, still on his couch. “That’s bad, I have to go.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment, but what was she going to do — tell him not to go? “It’s fine,” she said, one hand still on his shoulder. “We can pick this up again later. Go fight a fire.”
He lowered himself for one more long, lasting kiss, leaving Katie breathless, then got off of the couch. He found his shirt where he’d tossed it and put on his shoes before Katie could even get off the couch.
“It’s fine if you stay here,” he said, standing in the doorway. “Just lock the knob if you go.”
Then he was gone. She heard his car start and then drive off, toward the fire station across town. Katie got off of the couch, adjusted her dress, and sighed, willing the pleasant, warm ache in her loins to go away.
She went ahead and put away the board game, leaving it on the table. Even though it was late, she wanted to head home — Sam wasn’t lying that she was welcome to stay, she was sure, but it felt strange to do so.
Her car was at the bar, she realized. Maybe a mile away. It was twelve-thirty at night, but she was in Montpelier. She debated with herself for a moment, then grabbed her bag, locked the door from the inside, and shut it.
You’ve been in way worse places, she told herself. Just walk, you’ll be fine.
Saturday morning, Katie woke at seven to her phone buzzing and buzzing on her bedside table. Sleepily, she tried to shut the alarm off, but it kept buzzing.
Finally, she opened her eyes enough to realize it was a phone call.
“Hello,” she said, her words slurred and sleepy.
“Hi Katie, I’m sorry to wake you,” the crisp voice on the other end said.
Katie’s eyes flew the rest of the way open. It was Dr. Malcolm, her boss, and she sounded quite awake.
“Dr. Malcolm,” she said.
“I realize that it’s a Saturday, but I’m afraid I need to call you in for an emergency consultation,” Dr. Malcolm said. Katie thought that she detected a note of apology in the older woman’s voice. “There was a very large fire in East Montpelier last night, and some people were injured. It’s all over the news. Would you be willing to do an emergency session with Patrick Tahoe today? He was on the scene.”
Katie’s stomach dropped.
“Who was hurt?” she asked.
Not Sam, she thought. Not Sam, not Sam.
“An older couple, I’m afraid,” Dr. Malcolm said. “They had to be airlifted to the burn unit at the University over in Burlington.”
“Are they going to be okay?”
“They think so,” said Dr. M
alcolm. “But those injuries are never pleasant. It’s my understanding that Patrick carried one of them out of their house.”
Katie stared at her ceiling, trying to imagine it: a house in flames, the firemen on the scene. How terrifying it must be to hear your alarm go off in the middle of the night.
“Of course I’ll see him today,” she said. “Just give me an hour to get dressed and get into the office.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Malcolm said.
Patrick was waiting outside when she got there, looking tired and stressed.
“Hey,” she said, flipping on lights, the only person there with a key. “Come on in, if you don’t mind while I get set up.”
“Thanks,” he said, his voice sounding a little hollow as he sat in one of her armchairs while she turned on lamps and lit a candle.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
Katie blew out the match, setting it on a little ceramic dish there just for that purpose.
“It smells nice,” she said. “I find it gives me patients something to focus on besides me, if they’re having trouble talking about something.”
She sat in the chair opposite him.
“You can tell me anything you want,” she said, and then she was quiet.
“They’re going to be okay, I think,” Patrick said slowly, staring at the floor. “They got to the burn unit in time, I heard.”
Katie nodded. “Does that make you feel better?”
“Of course,” he said. “But, you know, I still think — what if we’d been faster? What if I’d driven quicker, what if I’d gotten out of bed sooner. Then they might not be in that unit at all.”
“But without you, they’d be much worse off.”
“I guess,” Patrick said.
“Is this the first time something like this has happened since you joined the force?”
Patrick sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s usually more rescuing people who forgot to open their flues, that kind of thing.”
Katie smiled a little on the inside, picking up on Patrick’s subtle, teasing dig at her, even right now. He was going to be fine.
“It’s easy to blame yourself for something like this,” she said. “Easy to over-empathize with the people you’re helping, but most people couldn’t do what you do.”
Patrick suddenly stood and began pacing her office, his hands tangling in front of him. Then he stopped, turned, and looked at Katie.
“I almost put her down,” he said. His eyes bored into hers, and she thought she was tears forming there. “She’d already passed out from smoke, and there was this moment — there was a backdraft, and I had to move fast, and—“ he took a deep breath. “I almost tossed her down in the hallway and ran.”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I thought about it.”
Katie felt overwhelmed, her heart pounding, every sense on high alert. This was incredibly unprofessional of her, she knew — there was absolutely no way she could be a good doctor to this particular patient, since she was still — even after all these years — too emotionally tied up with him.
She stood and put her hands on his shoulders, making him stop pacing.
“Patrick,” she said, locking eyes with him. “You did a wonderful thing. If you’d put her down to save yourself, you still wouldn’t be a bad person, but you didn’t. You saved a woman’s life, and you have to celebrate that and forgive yourself for not doing the impossible.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“I guess,” he said. “It’s just so easy to see what I could have done better.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s because you care.”
“I still feel so bad, though.”
“You went through something intense and hard. It takes time.”
Slowly, he lifted one hand to Katie’s hair. She usually pulled it back while she was at work, but she hadn’t had time that morning, and he tugged gently on one brown strand, thinking.
“This is normal, right?” he asked.
“It’s very normal.”
His hand moved to her cheek, his fingers tracing along the bones, down to her chin. Katie felt like she was trembling. She knew she should stop him but felt completely powerless to do so — she’d wanted this since she was sixteen, and with his hands on her now, there was no way she could run.
“I’m going to refer you to another doctor,” she whispered, looking up at him.
Instead of responding, he bent down and kissed her on the lips, pressing firmly against her. Katie was almost overwhelmed, feeling almost dizzy and high at first.
Patrick Tahoe is really kissing me, she thought.
His lips moved against hers and she came unfrozen, parting her own just slightly, tilting her head and pressing against him. His tongue swiped along her lower lip and she parted them, letting him in. Her hand found its way around the back of her head, and she pulled him into her.
Finally he straightened, pulling his mouth away from hers, her lips still parted and her eyes still closed. She’d been wishing that it would never end, because unlike almost everything else, this was better than how she’d imagined it would be.
“Now will you go out with me?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“I can’t,” she said. She wanted to cry, but it was true.
“You said you’d refer me,” he said.
“But I haven’t yet,” she said. “We can’t be seen in public while I’m still your doctor.”
There was also the small matter of Sam, who she’d kissed not twelve hours ago — sweet, wonderful Sam, who also made her heart beat faster and her palms get sweaty. Sam, who she hadn’t crushed on endlessly in high school, who didn’t have all that baggage.
Patrick took a step away from her, and she could see something change in his face change, like storm clouds coming over him.
“When?” he asked.
Katie looked at the floor, helplessly. As much as she wanted Patrick, it wasn’t enough to risk her job for, even though her heart was saying, do it.
“A week?” she said. “A month? I don’t know. We can’t give off the wrong impression.”
“Fine,” he said. He took his hands off of her and jammed them in his pockets, suddenly angry. More than angry; he was irate.
“Call me when you’re finally interested,” he said, stalking to her office door. “I’m not coming around again.”
Then he left, slamming the door hard enough to shake the walls.
Kate collapsed onto her chair. She knew the sudden, wild mood change wasn’t completely his fault — he’d just experienced a trauma and hadn’t even slept since then, it looked like. In a few days, he’d be much more reasonable, and then she’d call him, explain the situation.
What IS the situation? She wondered. On one hand, yeah, she’d been madly in love with him for years, but on the other hand, she was different than she’d been in high school. She’d had her share of boyfriends, and was no longer some short, chubby dork.
Also, there was the small matter of Sam, who she also liked very, very much. He made her feel warm and tingly in the same way Patrick did.
I could date them both, she thought, but quickly dashed the idea. They’d probably get jealous, and good luck keeping the secret, especially since they seemed like they were pretty good friends.
I guess I’ll have to choose, she thought sadly. I wish I didn’t.
She stood and blew out the candle, and then her eyes fell on the jacket slung over the back of the chair: Patrick’s of course. When he’d left in his sudden, odd rage, he’d left it behind.
Quickly, Katie left her office, turning out the lights and locking the door, but her car was the only one in the parking lot.
“Shit,” she muttered underneath her breath.
Sooner or later, she was going to have to see Patrick again.
She looked down at the dark blue fleece on her arm.
He’s got other jack
ets, she told herself. You can put it off for a little while.
She put it off for a week. A week when she did little but work and flirt with Sam via text message. Saturday he’d been to exhausted to go out, and Sunday morning she woke to a text that said Gotta go to a weeklong ski instructor’s retreat :( Be back Saturday!
Kate was bummed, but she tried to take the time to finally unpack her house a little, take some alone time to reflect on the whole situation.
What would have to happen, she decided, was she had to be honest: she was interested in them both, and would like to date them each for a while before she decided. She had a feeling that they might not be cool with it, but it was the best she could do.
It was Friday night when she finally called Patrick about his jacket. It had been in her car for nearly a week, and she was tired of looking at it all the time.
“Katie,” he said when he answered the phone, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“You left your jacket,” she said.
“That’s where it is?” he said. “I looked everywhere.”
“Want me to swing by and give it back?”
“Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
There was a brief pause.
“Katie,” he said. “I want to apologize for my behavior Saturday. That was... I was tired, and I felt awful, but it’s no excuse.”
“I know that’s not how you really are,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m at the firehouse, hanging out with the guys,” he said. “Want to swing by?”
Is Sam there? she wondered. Great. This should be awkward.
“Sure,” she said.
At the firehouse, she rang the front bell and waited, listening to someone descend the staircase from the common room above the garage. Finally Patrick’s face appeared and he opened the door.
“Thanks,” he said. “Want to come upstairs for a drink? It’s just me and Sam.”
Shit, thought Katie. Well, it’s now or never.
“Sure,” she said, then followed him up the rickety firehouse stairs. Like so much in Montpelier, it had been built a hundred or more years ago and retrofitted into what it was today.