Page 7 of Flashpoint Feelings

“She has goals,” I agree, “but…” I trail off, realizing my mistake too late.

Sure enough, these two can’t help but pounce.

“Oh man,” Brock groans. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Worse than Levi the minute he spotted Zoe at The Flatiron that night, remember?”

Oh, I remember. And it’s a good thing Levi isn’t here right now, or he’d be jumping on the ‘let’s give Mack a hard time’ bandwagon, too.

I ignore them as we wind around the tiny aisles, loading our baskets with supplies for the station. In the cereal section, I stare at two different boxes, wondering which Maya would prefer. She doesn’t seem like a sugary kid cereal kind of girl. No, more like a high protein ‘I need this food to fuel my body’ kind of cereal eater.

“Seriously?” Jake snatches both boxes and tosses them into my basket. “Please don’t tell me you’re agonizing over breakfast cereal because of her now?”

“I’m not…” But I can’t even finish the denial because he’s right. Everything reminds me of Maya. The way she moves with such precision. How she never complains, even when she’s hurting. But the best is the slight smile she tries to hide when I manage to crack her professional shell.

“This from the guy who spent months giving me shit about Libby,” Brock says, referring to his fiancée. “What was it you said? That you’d rather eat glass than get tied down?”

“Yeah, well…” I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “That was before.”

“Before Thorne walked in and knocked you on your ass without laying a finger on you?” Jake asks.

“Something like that,” I grumble, grabbing a few protein bars and trying to focus on the task at hand instead of memories of Maya’s slight frame pressed against mine during that ladder drill. The way her hair smelled like flowers when she bent over me during the CPR demo and her ponytail brushed my cheek.

“And now,” Brock mutters, as if talking to himself, “I’ve got to figure out where to seat you at the wedding. Far away from Thorne, apparently.”

I freeze, disbelief coursing through me. “You’re inviting Thorne to the wedding?”

“She’s on our crew now, Mack. One of us.”

“But…but…” I stammer.

“Don’t tell me the thought of a weekend at a five star ski resort in Vermont, knowing Maya’s just down the hallway, is an issue,” Jake jests, elbowing me in the side.

My throat goes dry at the image Jake’s words conjure up. Maya just down the hallway at a romantic mountain resort. Maya in a dress instead of turnout gear. Maya with her hair down, maybe even in high heels. The thought alone is enough to make my pulse race.

“That’s…” I clear my throat, trying to get my bearings. “That will not be a problem.” Even I don’t believe the lie. Because now, all I can think about is how she’ll look on the dance floor, what it would feel like to hold her close with no gear between us, no protocols to follow, no station walls watching our every move.

“Right,” Jake drawls. “Just like you’re not thinking about it right now.”

I grab a jar of sauce off the shelf with more force than necessary, desperately trying to redirect my thoughts. But it’s useless. The idea of Maya at the wedding has lodged in my brain like smoke in my lungs. An entire weekend. Away from the station. Where we won’t be working…

No. I shake my head, shoving away the dangerous train of thought. This is exactly what I can’t do. Maya deserves better than some workplace romance that could derail her career. Even if the thought of seeing her all dressed up, in a setting where we’re not bound by department regulations, makes something in my chest ache.

“Just put her at another table,” I mutter, though the words taste bitter. “Better yet, put her at Jake’s table. That way, I know he’ll be too busy bickering with Charlotte to notice if I’m staring.”

“You remember what happened to Rodriguez and Martinez at Engine 17?” Brock says, changing the subject as we head for checkout.

My stomach drops. Of course, I remember. They both got fired when their secret relationship came to light.

“That’s different,” I argue. “He was her lieutenant.”

“But you’ve seen how hard Thorne works,” Jake adds. “How much shit she’s probably had to put up with to get where she is? You really want to risk ruining that for her?”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. He’s right, damn it. My heart sinks to the bottom of the Hudson. Maya’s earned her place in the department and our station. She deserves to be judged on her skills, not office gossip about some workplace romance. Even if my heart pounds double time whenever she’s near. Even if I’ve never felt this kind of instant connection with anyone else.

“You’re right.” The words come out rough as I hand my basket over to the clerk. “I can’t do that to her.”

“It might be rough, man.” Jake’s tone is sympathetic now, instead of teasing. “But it’s the right call. Especially because department policy is crystal clear. No relationships between firefighters at the same station. Period.”

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