Page 54 of Up In Flames
“Why don’t you sit with us?” Jonas said, saving me from having to figure out how to get the invitation past my teeth.
“We couldn’t impose,” Hal said.
“It’s no imposition.” Briggs beamed. “There’s plenty of beer for everyone. Next pitcher is on Dorsey, though.” Briggs kicked my foot under the table. It jerked me out of my panicked stupor, and I managed to smile at Oren and Hal. I shoved over, smashing myself against the wall, leaving room for Oren to sit next to me in the booth. Hal grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat at the end.
“Are you sure we’re not interrupting?” Oren asked no one in particular.
“We were just discussing heroic deeds like fishing kittens out of storm drains,” Briggs supplied. “What do the two of you do?” He eyed their suits with interest. Oren had taken his jacket off and unbuttoned his cuffs. He rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and loosened his tie. He looked edible.
“We’re lawyers. Not very interesting compared to rescuing kittens.”
“Oh shit, you need drinks. I’ll go get a couple more glasses.” Jonas started to get to his feet, but Oren shook his head.
“Not for me, thanks,” he said.
“What about your friend?”
“Oh, sorry. Right. This is Hal. Hal, this is Will, and those are his friends.”
“Jonas.” Jonas pointed at Briggs. “And Briggs. There’s a few other guys around here, but they’re assholes. So, something non-boozy for Oren. What about you, Hal?”
“Beer is fine. Thanks,” Hal said agreeably.
I barely heard him through the roar in my ears as Oren pressed his foot against the side of mine under the table. The closeness sent my heart racing, and my pulse roared in my ears. I waited for Briggs to notice. Or Jonas. But nothing happened. The conversation picked up again as Oren prodded Briggs and Jonas about rescuing kittens and other things firefighters were called to do.
Eventually my heart calmed and by the time I finished most of a beer, I’d relaxed. The danger seemed to have passed, at least according to my brain. There was nothing suspicious at all about Oren sitting next to me. No one could tell that he was the most important person sitting at the table. No one knew that we’d go home later and fall into bed. Kissing. Touching. There was no way for them to know just by looking at me how much I wanted him. Needed him.
Hal knew, I realized. Oren had told him. The idea rolled around in my head, and I had to wonder if I minded sitting at a table with someone who knew the truth about me. Someone besides Oren.
It turns out that I didn’t. I didn’t know Hal and therefore wasn’t invested in his opinion about me. Now if I could switch that off for everyone else, I’d be set. I could come out to my parents. The guys at work. After that, it didn’t matter. If the church my parents went to wouldn’t accept me, then I simply wouldn’t go. It wasn’t like I went often now anyway. Usually only when Mom or Dad was volunteering and they needed my help.
“What’s the funniest call you’ve been to?” Oren asked me.
I took a sip of my beer to give myself a moment to think about it. “Probably the man who got stuck in the folding chairs,” I answered after a minute.
“How did that happen?”
Briggs was already laughing. Having been on the call with me, it had been one of the funnier days.
“Tequila,” Briggs answered with a grin. “Way too much tequila. A dash of bravado, and an absolute lack of brains.”
“It was a bachelor party, and the stripper didn’t show, right? So this guy decides that fuck it, he’s going to be the entertainment for all his friends. Everyone is drunk and is cheering him on, and it’s all going exceedingly well, until he decides that since he’s now only wearing his boxers, he’ll wear the chair.”
“Oh, no.” Oren grimaced in sympathy for the man.
“Oh, yes. There was a video too. Somehow he managed to get his head and his arms through it. The plan was to pull it down to his waist, I guess. But it got stuck around his ribs. Briggs here said he was going to get the jaws of life to pry the chair off him.”
“In my defense, I thought we might need them. Dude took one look at the saw, and I swear he shit himself.”
“Because the jaws of life are less intimidating.” Oren rolled his eyes, but I could see the tension in his body.
“Sorry,” I told him. It wasn’t that I forgot about the accident, how could I, but I hadn’t thought how a simple story could impact him in a bad way.
Oren took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just brings back bad memories.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I delivered a baby on the side of the road?” Jonas asked, rerouting the conversation, much to Oren’s relief.
“Which time?” I asked Jonas. Births on the side of the road were a right of a passage in the world of first responders.
