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“I didn’t know you had curly hair,” I say.

She holds a lock between her thumb and finger and looks at it with disgust. “I don’t.” She blows out a breath. “It’s wavy but not the cute kind of wavy. So I straighten it.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Well, you’re just biased because you want to get into my pants”—she looks down at her outfit—“or, I should say, your pants, later.”

“While that’s true, the compliment was genuine. It looks good.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

The way she says it makes me think she’s not good at accepting compliments.

She plops down on the sofa, and I put a pillow between us with a wink. She shakes her head. “That won’t stop me.”

“It’ll help.”

She waves her hand. “It’s fine. We can take a break.”

“You think?” I throw my head back in laughter.

“So Boss…tell me about yourself. Have you always wanted to be a firefighter?” Our eyes meet, her sky blue and my deep brown, the connection causing the hairs on my arms to raise. I push down the desire to touch her and think instead of my stomach and its need to eat.

My mind drifts back to my childhood and I nod. “Yeah, I have. The house on the corner of my street was set on fire when I was about nine. My best friend from school lived there. I remember standing on the opposite side of the road watching the firefighters run into the burning building without any fear. One of them pulled out my friend, Andre, and saved his life. I was in awe.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Are you and Andre still close?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No actually, his parents and teen brother died in that fire. Andre got sent to Michigan to live with his grandpa, and I never saw him again. I doubt he’d want to see me anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because my brother set the fire.”

“What?” she gasps.

I pull in a breath. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken about that night. “Yeah, my brother, Will, was seventeen and in a gang that was trying to initiate Andre’s brother. Only Andre’s brother refused to join. Will’s gang was angry and told him to do something about it, so he set their house ablaze.”

“Oh, my God.” Lexi covers her mouth with her hands.

“I know. It’s horrible. I found out that Will had set the fire, and I turned him into the police. He was tried as an adult and sent to jail where he still is today.”

“That’s a lot to carry as a child.” She leans forward and places her hand atop mine.

“Yeah, it was. I grew up surrounded by gangs, drugs, and violence, but I never wanted that life. I wanted to be the good guy, the hero of the story. I hated turning in my brother, but he wasn’t really my brother anymore, not the one I loved. He hurt people and killed my friend’s entire family. I had no doubt he’d do it again if his gang told him to. I couldn’t stand by and watch others get hurt when I knew I could stop it—or at the very least, stop my brother.”

“What did your parents say when you turned Will in?”

“Well, my dad left when I was a baby, so I never knew him. My mom was heartbroken when Will was convicted but not because of me. She had lost my oldest brother Gary the year prior to a drug overdose. I think she was just sad that her two oldest boys turned into the men they did. You know?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her.”

“It sucks, but she has me and my sister, Jeannette, who is a year older than me. My sister still lives with Mom and works as a cashier at the local liquor store. They still live in the same house I grew up in. I wish they’d move to a better part of the city. I’ve offered to help them, but they’re pretty set on staying there. They don’t want to leave their community. Despite the heavy gang activity, there are a lot of great people there.”

“So you’re the baby of the family?” She grins.

“I am.”

“What about you? Do you have siblings? Are you close with your parents?”

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