Page 12 of Burn

When I look at her with what I’m sure was an easy to read “what the hell are you doing?” question on my face, she turns to me barking out, “I’m on a break.” She doesn’t look at Evan and sits next to me and smacks my thigh with her hand. “Caleb, check her out.” Jacey points across the throngs of bodies swaying to the beats of the music in the club to a brunette standing with a group of women near the door. “You should go talk to her.”

Part of me doesn’t want to look where she’s pointing.

Jacey is always trying to set me up with chicks, and for a few months of my life, men. She had this ridiculous assumption I was gay for a short time.

No doubt thanks to Owen and Evan. Fuckers won’t let you live anything down.

It’s a long story, but about a year ago during a raging fire we were called to assist with in SoDo, Seattle’s Industrial District, I had to carry this dude down like ten flights of stairs. To thank me, he bought me coffee every morning for a month. An entire fucking month.

Rumors flew around the fire house he’d turned me to the other side, but clearly by the way I’m watching this chick by the door, that’s pretty far from the truth, don’t you think?

Despite notwantingto look, my eyes deceive me.

By the way she’s standing by the entrance, I can’t tell from here if she’s leaving or just arriving, but she catches my eye for sure. It’s the legs first in her skintight jeans and relaxed gray top clinging to her chest in all the right places under her black leather jacket.

If I look closely—and I do—I can see her nipples when her jacket shifts out of the way which tells me she’s either not wearing a bra or is really fucking cold. Both intrigue me. If she’s not wearing a bra, I’d like to ask her out on pure principle. And if it’s because she’s cold, well, I can certainly warm her up, can’t I?

“She’s out of your league.” Owen laughs after pouring me a beer and then taking a seat across from me. “Wayout of your fuckin’ league. And besides that, I bet you fifty bucks I can buy her a drink before you do.”

I slide the beer toward me, my eyes remaining on the dark-haired beauty by the door. He’s probably right, in some ways. I’ve no fuckin’ doubt in my mind she’s out of my league, but I know I’d be able to show her a night she’d never forget before he does.

“She might be out of your league, but it’s time to get some,” Owen adds. “What about that chick?” And then he points to a blonde on the dance floor to our left, eyeing me while she lets her friend grind on her.

Two chicks. Hmmm. Possibilities sure, but my eyes automatically drift back to the dark-haired woman with the olive skin.

Owen knows I’m on a bit of a dry spell since Gemma and I broke up.

We constantly have this conversation, too. When you’re with a group of guys as often as I am, it gets talked about. Around the table, on the truck, and watching television, we bullshitted, and our personal lives are never far from the topics. Including who’s gettin’ some and who’s not. I’m on the “who’s not” list lately and Owen, well, he’s always jumping around from one list to the next. He’s probably one of those guys who’s had more pussy than the quarterback of the Seahawks. I honestly don’t doubt it. He can walk into a bar and sweet talk ‘em right out of there and into his bed. I know this because he lives with me. Being in the loft, sound carries, and I hear him all the time. Let me tell you, it’s depressing as shit when you’re not getting some yourself.

Finn approaches the booth, drink in hand and in no condition to drive home later. “Hey, fuckers, did you see this shit?” He slams his phone on the table. “Chief’s wife made cookies for the guys working C-shift tonight. How come she doesn’t make anything for us?”

Evan shrugs. “She made me spaghetti the other day.”

She probably did. Old ladies like Evan. True story. He once rescued this sixty-year-old lady from a fire, and she asked him out every day for three months. Turns out she was loaded too. There’s talk around the house he fucked her, but no one knows for sure. I don’t ask because I don’t want the details.

Owen picks up his phone and glares at the screen. “Goddamn, those lucky bastards. C-Shift is always braggin’ about her cookies, and I’ve never had one. It’s like she hates us.”

“No.” I shake my head at Owen. “It’s because you and Jay are always mauling her with hugs when she shows up.”

Finn smiles, his cheeks pink. Look at him. He’s embarrassed by the conversation turning sexual. He’s such a pussy. “Do you, you know,like her?”

What is he, thirteen?

Owen lets out a loud laugh and slides probie’s phone back to him. “Well if she ever needed her lawn mowed, I’dgladlybring my mower.”

Jacey makes a gagging sound beside me and then stands up. “Gross.”

Finn decides to take her place, and I’m once again trapped in the booth. “She’s like in her late forties.”

“Women are like a fine wine, kid,” Owen tells him before taking his mixed drink from his hand and replacing it with a beer. “They get better with age.”

“And some age like milk,” I say, getting a laugh for the distraction.

Finn contemplates this for a moment, his confused gaze darting from me, and then back to Owen. “So I should date older women?”

I smile and take a drink of my beer but don’t say anything.

Owen shakes his head immediately. “No. Date the young ones while you can. I’m twenty-eight. If I went after an eighteen-year-old, she’d laugh in my face. But a forty-year-old woman, I’m still in prime condition for her.”

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