Page 20 of Memories with Fire

“True. But I just couldn’t with Liam.” I watch as she looks around me to catch sight of him, her lips pursing out like she’s thinking deeply. “I might be trailer trash, but I’m just not into guys I work with. Maybe if it was a really lonely, desperate Christmas night I’d consider it, but it seems wrong.”

Peering down at her, not that I have to look that far down with her heels on, I wonder about her trailer trash comment. I don’t know anything too personal about Quinn, but there was an inflection of loathing when she said that, while the rest was light and airy.

“Fair,” I tell her. I can think of a few friends back in Texas that were spectacular to look at and flirt with, but I’d never be able to bring myself to fuck them. Most of them were my sister’s or cousin’s friends though. I deemed most of them off limits.

“I didn’t come over here to talk about that, though,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. We weren’t talking loudly to begin with, but now I need to strain to hear her, tilting my head so my ear is near her mouth. “I came to apologize. I should have warned you about the date she was supposed to bring.”

Surprise flows freely through me, my head whipping around to look at Quinn. She’s staring back at me intently and I know without having to ask her to repeat herself that I heard her correctly. “Why?”

“Because while everyone has been an asshole to you, I was instructed that I had to be your point person when it came to pretty much anything regarding medical. That means I’ve gotten to know you a lot more than anyone else so far,” she explains, glancing away from me towards the bar. I follow her gaze and see that Nate has moved around the bar and the other woman he was talking to has disappeared.

“Hailey is my best friend,” Quinn continues, and I’m pulled right back to looking at her. “I’ve never seen her act this way. Which means something big happened between the two of you.”

She pauses, but I keep my expression the same, refusing to give her an inch of whether she’s right or wrong.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, hoping and wishing she would talk to you or give you even half a second of her time,” she finally says, arching a delicate eyebrow. “I’m guessing you don’t look at all your previous girlfriends that way.”

“Don’t have any,” I tell her, ignoring how close to the truth she is. Her eyes narrow at me, trying to figure me, and possibly the story, out.

“So you put those two things together, and I think what needs to happen is for Hailey to get her head out of her ass.” She holds up a finger, pauses, and then nods to herself. “Not that that would mean you two would magically fall in love and live happily ever after, but…”

When she trails off and doesn’t continue, I nod, trying to encourage her. “But…?”

There’s a wickedness in her eyes when she brings them back to mine, a devious smile curling her lips. “But I think Hailey plays it safe too much of her life and you might be the key to changing that.”

“I hate to break it to you,” I tell her with a sad shake of my head, wishing her words didn’t ease an ache between my pecs. “But Hailey hates me.”

“No,” Quinn says, clapping me on the back. “Hailey’s just scared of you.”

CHAPTER 8

HAILEY

In a chairat one of the tables scattered throughout the bar, I twirl my wine glass between my thumb and index finger. My eyes are locked on Luke who is on the dance floor, twirling around partner number five. Not that I’ve been counting. Not that I should care since most of his dance partners have consisted of Nate’s aunts.

From this vantage point, and with him distracted, I’ve been able to fully take him in. Something I don’t dare do at the firehouse. But tonight, with him all over the dance floor and in street clothes I appreciate—much more than a band t-shirt—I can’t help it. The broad shoulders, lean body, powerful legs. Agile and strong.

I’m annoyed. Annoyed that he’s here, annoyed that Quinn seems to be flirting with him, annoyed that everyone is being nicer to him. Mostly I’m annoyed with myself, though. First for being annoyed at all those things, second for not celebrating Nate and Savanna’s engagement like I should, and third for being unable to control my thoughts on how downright hot he looks tonight.

I knew, even before the parking lot scene, that seeing him here was going to be a problem. Outside of work, outside of his uniform, in a natural everyday situation.

He's also been handing out smiles like they’re going out of style. It’s irritating. Those dimples have popped more tonight than all of his shifts combined. Mind you, he didn’t have much of a reason to be smiling. I have a feeling that’s going to change with everyone accepting him, and I need to prepare myself for that.

The smiling, the dimples, the laughter.

It makes me want to hurl just thinking about it.

My phone, which has been sitting beside my wine glass, vibrates on the table. I glance down, thankful for the reprieve of glaring at Luke, and groan. It’s a text from my mother.

Mom: How is the date going?

Picking up the device, I sigh deeply. I probably shouldn’t open this can of worms right now, but it’ll provide me a distraction from Luke.

Me: Why are you texting me when I’m on a date?

Her reply is instant.

Mom: Why are you texting me back if you’re on a date?

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