by Lyssa Layne
“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, shaki
ng 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...
Chapter Five
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.