Page 2 of Fools in Love

“I highly doubt it,” I whispered once she was gone, not wanting to burst her bubble, but it was unlikely that an event like this one could result in a real relationship.

That wasn’t the point of it at all.

A one-night stand was more likely. And I wasn’t interested in that either.

AUCTION NIGHT

ROBBIE

As if being a fireman wasn’t exploitive enough, here I was, about to get auctioned off at a freaking charity event I had no interest in being at. I wanted to resist, but the fire chief would have my ass if he heard that I was being a little bitch about the whole thing. I had been told to suck it up, be a fucking gentleman to whoever was desperate enough to buy me for a night, and make sure they had a good time.

It was humiliating.

And don’t get me wrong; I’d had plenty of action from the ladies over the years. Hell, I’d reveled in it not that long ago. Told any and every female I saw on the street how I was a fireman before asking if they wanted to slide down my pole. I know; I know, but most of them did want to slide down said pole.

You couldn’t begin to imagine the level of attention we firemen got just because of our occupation. Women flocked to us in grocery stores, stopped by the firehouse with “treats,” flashed us while we drove the truck, and stalked us on social media. They didn’t know a damn thing about us, but none of that mattered.

We werefiremen.

Hot. Dangerous. Men in uniform.

But one day, it’d all changed for me, and I could pinpoint the exact moment in time when my mindset had shifted. It was after the city calendar had come out, and I was unofficially named the Fire Hottie of the Year, as my picture graced not only one of the months, but the cover as well. If I’d thought women were easy to come by before the calendar released, it was nothing compared to after.

And I’d never been more miserable in my life than I was during that time. Every bit of attention was based on how I looked—how big my arms and shoulders were, how chiseled my jaw was, how ripped my abs were. The females of Manhattan didn’t give a shit about my mind, my interests, my hobbies, or anything else. Hell, most of them didn’t want to even have a conversation with me. All they wanted to do was be able to say they got to fuck the Fire Hottie and take a selfie or two to prove it to make their girlfriends jealous.

All of the meaningless sex had grown old. Pointless even. And it’d made me question my worth.

I know; I sound like a fucking female right now, but being exploited twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, online and in person, eventually took a toll on your mental health.

Which was why I had absolutely no interest in perpetuating the shit show that was tonight’s bachelor auction. Cap could have chosen anyone else in the firehouse. He knew how much I’d struggled post-calendar publicity, so I wasn’t sure why he’d picked me out of all of the guys to do something as demeaning as this.

But again, I wasn’t allowed to complain.

“Ready for tonight, Mitchell?” my captain asked with a hard slap to the back.

I suddenly wondered if he was going to be in attendance to witness my humiliation in person. Why hadn’t I thought about that before?

I tried not to choke on the thought of him being in the audience. “Sure.”

“Don’t sound too excited.” He frowned.

“Oh, I am, sir. Incredibly excited to take some strange woman out for what I’m sure will be an overly romantic evening, where she’ll care about what I think instead of how I look,” I answered, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“Damn, Mitch,” he said, shortening my last name for emphasis. “You don’t have to be so cynical.”

“Cap”—I reared my head back and gave him a look—“I’m going to be bought tonight. Purchased. Like cattle. Like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat to go on someone’s dinner table.”

“There are worse ways to spend a Tuesday night. Stop being a sissy and start being thankful,” he said, his tone forceful, before he walked away.

Thankful?!

Thankful for what?I thought to myself.

I wanted no part in this.

“Hey, Cap,” I shouted, and he stopped walking, so I knew he was listening. “How’d we get sucked into this anyway?”

I’d been here almost nine years, and we’d never participated in this kind of thing before. No one else in the firehouse had been auctioned off for charity in the past, so why were we suddenly doing it now?

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