“Come inside,” he directed, expecting me to follow him.
And I did. I mean, of course I did.
The first thing I noticed was how clean and organized it all was. Everything was in its proper place—I assumed. Boots were neatly stacked in front of hanging jackets on hooks. The fire truck was sparkling so bright that it looked like it belonged in a museum. I heard laughing echoing from somewhere, but no one was in my view as I looked around for the source.
Robbie was ahead of me, walking fairly fast as the garage closed behind me, but I kept up. He walked up three concrete steps before making a left and then another quick right. I did the same and was greeted by the smiling faces of four guys sitting around a round table. The room was like a large family room with a full-size kitchen and multiple couches. It looked comfortable, homey even.
“Everyone, this is April. April, this is everyone,” Robbie said.
I found myself feeling slightly offended. He thought so little of me that I didn’t even deserve a proper introduction with actual names.
“Hi, everyone,” I repeated the term with slight distaste, so Robbie would know I was miffed.
He didn’t seem to care though as he took a seat back at the table and grabbed the cards that had been facedown.
“I thought you two had business to discuss?” one of the men said, and I wanted to thank him for attempting to keep Robbie focused on the matter at hand.
I hadn’t come here to watch a bunch of men play poker. No matter how hot they all were. And while I was sure that there were worse ways to spend an evening, I would have rather been at home, watching bad reality TV and unwinding from my long day before I woke up and repeated it all again tomorrow.
When I cleared my throat, the entire table focused on me, and I felt myself flush with embarrassment at their stares.
“Robbie”—my voice was quieter than I’d meant—“I do need to get home, so if we could get this over with…”
“See?” another guy with a bushy mustache said before adding, “She doesn’t want to go out with you either. Although, personally, I think you’re an idiot. Look at her. She’s way out of your league.”
Everyone started nodding and voicing their agreement. Everyone, except Robbie, who was glaring daggers at me. His dirty looks were starting to get on my nerves. I’d done nothing to deserve them.
“I’ll take you out instead!” Mustache Man shouted, and I tried to hide my smile.
The chair Robbie sat in screeched against the concrete as he pushed it back, and my grin dropped instantly.
“Enough. You,” he said, pointing a finger at me, “come with me.”
My mouth twisted into a frown at his demand. He was so damn rude. Yet I followed him out of the living room and into a hallway.
“You’re a jerk,” I said loud enough for the rest of the guys to hear, and they started howling with laughter. I felt vindicated.
Robbie stopped walking abruptly for only a second before starting up again. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be,” I shouted at his back, once again following him around the fire station to who knew where.
We walked upstairs, and my eyes focused on the framed photographs of smiling faces that followed. They were tributes to the men they’d lost over the years. Of course, the majority had passed on 9/11, and my heart ached as I remembered what the city had been like during that time. I had only been a young kid when it happened, but a tragedy like that etched itself into your DNA. I’d never forget the way everyone had seemed to wear their pain like a thunder storm, loud and palpable, refusing to be ignored.
When we reached the top, there were a couple of doors to what I’d soon learn were bedrooms. We stepped into one room, multiple twin beds all sharing the space, and I shuddered at the sheer lack of privacy. It reminded me of the dorm rooms back in college. Robbie stopped at the foot of one of the beds before sitting on it. I looked around, unsure of what to do, so I sat on the empty bed next to his.
“Not much privacy,” I practically whispered, and Robbie’s green eyes shot up to meet mine.
“None. You can’t do anything here without someone hearing you.”
He was opening up. It was a small thing, but it was more than he’d given me up until this point.
“Is it annoying?” I asked. “Or are you used to it?”
His head shook slowly. “You never really get used to it.”
I wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. Even though I wanted to keep him talking, I found myself struggling to find a topic.
“So…” I stumbled on what I wanted to ask exactly.