Page 3 of Memories with Fire

I almost feel bad for being victorious because she sounds so dejected. Almost.

As much as I don’t want to consider it, a deal is a deal. “Good. I promise I will consider it. But this isn’t a yes to the date by any means, so I better not be bombarded with some guy blowing up my phone asking when we can Netflix and chill.”

True story.

Quinn snickers beside me, and I pin her with a glare to shut her up.

That was blind date number two. I’ll give my mother credit for being furious when I told her about it.

There’s a gasp of outrage from the other end, like the mere memory of it brings her right back to the moment. “If I’d known he was going to be like that, I never would have agreed to that date!”

“I know, mom. I’m just reminding you that I haven’t said yes. I’m going to hang up now,” I warn her, my finger itching to hit the ‘end call’ button. “I’m almost back to the station, and I want to zen out after this stressful conversation.”

“This has not been stressful,” she scoffs.

“I love you, mom. Goodbye.”

I hear her “I love you, too” before I hit end, releasing a loud sigh as I slouch in my seat. I woke up on the wrong side of bed, grouchy as hell after a crappy evening and less sleep than I’m used to, especially with work. I usually don’t plan things the night before a shift, but George and I weren’t both free any other night, and I wanted to get our date over and done. Bad move.

Add in the coffee I spilled all over my cream-colored sweater on my way to work, and the shitty call first thing this morning, and I’m beginning to wonder what else might go wrong today.

“Damn,” Quinn says, trying to hold back her laughter as she backs into our spot at the fire station. She still shakes beside me, but I appreciate the effort. “Deb works faster than I do on ladies' night with a pack of studs.”

Rolling my eyes, I refuse to comment. Mostly because it’s true. Lately my dating life is all she’s talked about, and I’m wondering if she’s going through some kind of late mid-life crisis, or has a ticking clock for grandchildren. Either way, she can leave me out of it.

Jumping out of the rig when Quinn has it parked, I’m met with a stupidly handsome face courtesy of a man coming towards me. His megawatt smile has me groaning; it’s too early to deal with sunshine on a morning when I want nothing to do with it.

“Good morning, to the two most gorgeous paramedics on my shift. Harley Quinn. How are we today?” he asks, lifting his arms, as if to encompass the entire fire station as Quinn comes around the vehicle.

It’s a bad enough morning without him using that stupid nickname for us. “Don’t call us that.”

He ignores me, looking us over, inspecting our mud-covered uniforms, and breaks into a wider grin. “Ah, just how I like the ladies. A little dirty.”

Liam King. One hell of a looker, charming to boot, usually hilarious, and one hundred percent playboy. We’re good friends, and I love him to pieces, but I can’t stomach his buoyant personality right now. Or questions about last night. Everyone in the station knew I was headed on another blind date.

“Ugh,” I grumble, and at my five feet, four inches, I’m short enough to easily duck under Liam’s arm to head towards the locker room amidst laughing from Quinn.

I can hear her tell him about my mom’s newest date request, but she wouldn’t be laughing if it were her. Then again, Quinn would never allow such a thing to happen. Nor would her mother ever do such things to her. Her mom took off when Quinn was a little girl, and she essentially raised herself after that.

“Just tell your mom you’re dating me,” Liam calls out as I push through the door leading into the living quarters of the firehouse. “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend!”

My mother has met Liam. She’s met everyone from the firehouse. There’s not a chance in hell she would believe I was dating him, nor would I want her to think it. As much as I adore him, the guy gets around. He’s not exactly what I would call a safe option, in so many ways, and if I’m going to be forced into a boyfriend, it’s going to be with the safe option. Someone who likes nights in, doesn’t do a lot of crazy activities, hasn’t had a heaping helping of women prior to me.

Dull. Boring. Practical.

Maybe a video game nerd, or a computer whiz. Maybe someone who likes slo-pitch, because that’s relatively safe, and the one thing I do enjoy being part of. A guy who can fit in with my friends on the occasional night out. I’m not sure if I can find a gamer or computer guy like that, but if I can’t, I’m happy to stay single. The crazy cat lady. It’s not a bad thing to be. Animals need love.

“You know what?” Quinn says, catching up to me as I reach the locker room. I open my locker as she continues, “I think it’s a good thing your mom is doing this. It’s good to see you going out. I know you don’t necessarily want to, but it’s good for you.”

I sneer at her.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious. You’re probably worse than Nate was with the lack of dating life, and look at him now. With the love of his life, getting regular ass, and it shows. You just need some regular dick.” She snaps her fingers at me. “Maybe that’s all you need! Maybe we should just go out and get you laid.”

None of this is helping my mood. Quinn knows I’m not the girl that goes out and gets laid by some random guy. Nor by a non-random guy.

“Stop.” Groaning, I throw my muddy shirt at her. We’re both half stripped from our dirty uniforms. “We are not going to go and—oh my god!” I screech, eyes widening in her direction.

Without realizing I’m doing it, I’m pointing at her. More importantly, I’m pointing at her chest which is still covered by her sports bra. “Did you—what did you—are those?—”

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