Page 9 of Faking It with the Firefighter

When I was sixteen, I’d gotten a job at the local grocery store stacking shelves to pay for my brother’s peewee football equipment. When he made it to the varsity football team in high school, I worked my firefighting shifts and then worked nights at Sullivan’s Bar with Gabe on my days off to pay for the tournaments and extra coaching and physio that he needed.

When he went off to college, I fought fires and sent every penny to Mom to pay for what the scholarships didn’t.

And it wasn’t just money. I’d agreed to order cheese pizza for my entire young adulthood because Donny didn’t like toppings on his pizza and we couldn’t afford to buy more than one pie. I always put my family ahead of me, because I loved them and I wanted the best for them. It’s what family did.

But I couldn’t do this.

“No. Not a good idea,” I said.

“I knew it. You’re still mad at me about being with Blair.”

His words struck a chord, and I immediately felt defensive. “It’s not that. You know I’m happy for you.”

“Then what is it? Why is it such a bad idea for Blair and me to stay with you and your girlfriend? You don’t still have feelings for my girl, do you? It’s beenyears.”

“Hellno.”

“What do you mean, ‘hellno?’ You don’t think Blair’s a catch?”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean you’re being ridiculous. And I know I’m usually one to save you from your own mistakes, but you can’t just invite yourself to stay with—with my girlfriend.”

“Rex,” Donny said. “Blair’s going to kill me. You know what she’s like.”

A little too well. I chewed the inside of my lip. “You need to sort your own shit out, Donny.”

“It’s my wedding.”

“Yeah, which is the perfect opportunity to grow up.”

Donny let out a long sigh. “Come on, Rex. With all the physical therapy I’ve had to do on my knee, and the news that I mightnever play football again, and then all the wedding planning…”

I rubbed my forehead, groaning. He knew exactly which strings to tug with me, and I felt my resolve weakening. When we were kids, I’d had to step up and fix his mistakes on a regular basis, like the time he almost got kicked off the football team for smoking weed behind the bleachers. Or the time he flunked out of twelfth grade math and I had to beg Miss Hannah to let him do a make-up test so he could graduate.

Dad had just died, and Mom was a mess, and I was dealing with grief and the weird guilt that came with the relief that we wouldn’t need to deal with our father’s sulkiness and resentment and hair-trigger temper anymore.

Then, like now, Donny needed me. And no matter how much I wanted to tell him to fix his own fuckups, he was still my little brother—and itwashis wedding.

Donny paused. “Rex. I need your help. Blair doesn’t know we don’t have a room, and when she finds out we have nowhere to stay, she’s going to kill me. But if I told her I arranged to stay with you, and so close to the venue, she’d think I was a genius.”

“You could be honest with her,” I suggested, and yes, I realized the irony of my giving him that particular piece of advice.

He ignored me. “Think of it like a wedding present. Plus, we can spend more time together. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”

“It’s not my house, Donny.”

“Yeah, but it’s your girlfriend’s. And it’s Abigail Stone. She’s been in love with you since she was ten. She’d never say no.”

A childhood crush wasn’t the same as a real relationship. I was pretty sure Abigail didn’t harbor any secret feelings for menow. She was pretty clear about that every time we saw each other. I was just Gabe’s friend to her.

Besides, Abigail would takegreatpleasure in saying no to an unreasonable request. She wouldn’t let anyone steamroll her into anything.

Which made me wonder why she’d agreed to this scheme in the first place.

Then Donny said the magic words: “Please, Rex?”

I let out a long sigh. It was hard to argue with him. And I was the one who opened my big mouth with a big fat lie. Donny was a lot of things, but he would always be my little brother, so I said, “I’ll talk to Abigail.”

FIVE

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