Page 60 of Burn

“No, I wouldn’t. I’d take your bedroom though. I hate the loft.”

She kicks my shin. Hard. “You would too be sad.”

“Whatever.” I’m more concerned with how cold I am than this conversation and I think she can tell but my lack of attention and my intent stare on the floor numbers trying to speed them up.

“Why are all firefighters so hardened by everything?”

I’m surprised she’s asking this. Jacey knows more than most because she hears us talking sometimes. “Probably for the same reason you don’t take shit from drunk men. You get used to the same bullshit every day.”

ONCE INSIDE THE apartment, I stumble up the stairs and into the shower to warm up. And think of Mila which then leads to my hand moving toward my cock. It begins to stir, filling, lengthening and begging for some attention.

My mind drifts to her pussy and her pink lips spread and flushed before me that night. Her tiny clit peeking out from beneath its hood. Drawing in a sharp breath, I pour some soap in my hand and then grip my cock firmly, sliding it over my length once, increasing the pressure at the tip.

The fantasy of my cock being sucked into her mouth, the tip licked by her soft tongue, my hips twitch, thrusting into my hand. My body remembers fucking her with my tongue, the tightness, the warmth and the way she undulated against my mouth when she came.

My mouth opens, and I draw in a breath to keep from moaning, my stomach tightening sharply. My hand tightens and speeds up. I can’t hold on any longer. With a groan, I reach out with one hand against the tile wall and come all over my hand.

What is it about her I can’t shake?

I SPENT NEW Year’s morning telling myself I will never drink again. Until dinner that night at my parents’ house where my dad and I finished off that bottle of Midleton we started on Christmas. And all the while I sat on the couch, upset I didn’t get Mila’s number or at least find out where she worked so I could find her.

“You need help. How are you even going to function at work today?” Jacey asks when I stumble as I’m putting on my shoes.

I take the coffee she hands me. “I don’t drink on days I have to work or I’m on call.”

“Yeah but you doevery other day.”

With a fake smile, I open the front door. “Well, how ’bout this . . . I’ll quit drinking when you finally tell Evan how you feel?”

She flips me off. I guess that’s a no. Last night she broke her resolution. She made it one day before she snuck over to his apartment at two in the morning.

It’s three days after New Year’s when I’m back on duty at the station. During truck assignment, Captain informs me Jay and I are assigned to assist in a hotel inspection on E Denny Way at the Wellington Suites.

Cap looks at Finn, and then me. “Take the probie with you.”

Jay and I groan. “Why?”

Cap flips his hand at us. “Because I fuckin’ said so, assholes.”

Cap’s a great guy to work for.

Though I don’t particularly like doing fire inspection because it’s not firefighting, every year high rise hotels are required to have an inspection of their sprinkler systems and fire alarms. Mostly because not only do these high risers hold dangers for the guests staying in them, but they’re some of our biggest enemies. Lots of places for fire to hide.

Firefighters aren’t good at anything besides fighting fire. And drinking. And if you’re Owen, you’re uncannily good at baseball.

I say that because most of us have seen so much shit over the years, we’re no longer normal, and can’t act normal if we’re not making fun of someone. Most of us suffer from shift insomnia, which is where the drinking comes into play, and border on depressed. We seldom make relationships work, and we have a hard time coexisting. We’re impatient, we’re angry, we’re annoyed, but we’re good guys, and we can save your life when you need us to.

We chose firefighting because that’s what we know. Somewhere along the lines, we fell in love with fire and there’s no going back.

And let me be clear, I say we can’t function because we seem to lack patience and understanding for what’s going on around us.

Take my brother Gavin for example. He’s twenty-four, married and has two kids. He doesn’t even know where my nieces go to school nor could he remember a birthday or anniversary without his wife telling him, but he loves his family with so much passion he doesn’t need to remember those details.

We all fall in love with fire for different reasons. Owen, I’m positive he spent his childhood being treated for pyromania. It led to a career as a firefighter.

I’ll admit I am obsessed with it too. It’s something that forms early on for us and, for me, it probably started with that fire that took my parents and brother.

“JESUS, THIS BUILDING is huge and looks sorely out of place in this neighborhood,” Jay notes as we’re getting out of the truck.

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