Page 7 of Living with Fire

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Page 7 of Living with Fire

“Whoever this woman is,” she says, picking up the fresh drink. “She’s been sending Paul all kinds of pictures in her underwear. And he’s been sending shirtless pics back. God, why am I such an idiot?”

“I’m going to kick his ass,” I say, my jaw ticking as anger floods my veins. The only time in my life I’ve gotten into a fight was when a different jerk hurt her—apparently I’m not above making this a thing.

“I’m in, let’s go,” Liam seconds, already moving to stand from his barstool.

“No!” Jordan exclaims, flailing her hands at the two of us. “No, please, don’t. I don’t want extra drama, and you both know you can’t do that. You’re firefighters. You can’t just go beating people up.”

Liam snorts. “We’ll wear masks.”

Jordan levels him with a glare, and he puts both hands up in surrender, slowly sliding back into his seat, but not before he shoots me a look as if to say we can go later when Jordan isn’t around. I ignore him and pour her another small shot of tequila before grabbing a glass to fill with water.

“If you’re drinking that much tequila, you need to follow it with some water.”

Giving me a brief nod, she looks to Liam, her eyes pleading. “Drink with me? I don’t want to drink alone, but God, I need to drink. I just want to forget.”

Liam grimaces. “Uh…”

“Jor, we’re on shift in the morning. Liam can’t drink hard al—” I stop mid-sentence to watch my best friend reach over the bar to grab a glass, then the bar gun. He fills it with water then nods to her glass for me to fill.

“I can’t drink tequila with you, but I’ll still drink with you,” he says, lifting his glass to her. “Fuck the disgusting, filthy pig.”

“Exactly,” she says, clinking her glass against his, happy enough that he’s putting up the pretense of drinking with her, even if he’s not going to get wasted like she is. “Never be those guys, guys.”

Liam chokes on his drink with Jordan being none-the-wiser of how direct her comment is in regard to my day. I roll my eyes, already sensing what’s coming. Liam is about to open his big mouth and tell her all about the woman in the elevator. I don’t want any part of it, so I leave them and wander down the bar.

After checking on my other patron, I make sure Bryn doesn’t need anything. Then I say hello to Martin, my head bartender, when he walks in. We talk for a few minutes about the day before he goes about setting himself up for his shift while I stroll back down the bar.

The sound of my sister’s laughter makes me hopeful that her crisis has been diverted.

It has, for the time being, but it’s at my expense, just as I thought. It’s obvious that Liam has told her, and she turns to look at me while she says to Liam, “Let me guess—he’s trying to claim that he has game.”

“You know it,” he confirms with a smirk.

“Because I do!” I say, jumping to my own defense. “I can get a date just fine.”

“Then why don’t you, brother?”

“Been a little busy, if neither of you have noticed.” It’s the answer I give to everyone. I’m not opposed to dating, or love—hell, I’d welcome it with open arms—but firefighting and the bar come first for me, and I don’t know how to find someone who will accept that long term.

“You don’t even try. Do you know how many women around here look you up and down, giving you the eye? Have you ever realized how many women would love it if you just asked one of them out, or bought them a drink?” Jordan asks, eyebrow raised.

“I leave that up to Liam,” I say dryly.

Jordan tsks with disapproval. “You’re wasting your life away by working so much. I know things haven’t been easy, but Nate, you’re not getting any younger. I worry about you.”

Liam nods his agreement. “I’ve tried telling him the same thing.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” I turn on him, trying to take some of the heat off myself.

He shakes his head this time. “Nope. I don’t want a relationship. Not made for ‘em. You, however, are. You’ve always been the relationship guy out of the two of us, dude.”

“At least go out and get laid, Nate,” Jordan says, filling her own glass this time.

“I do,” I grit out through my teeth.

The only reason I’m entertaining any of this right now is because it’s taking Jordan’s mind off what happened with Paul, and if I can do that, it’s worth it. I think.

“Really? When’s the last time?” she asks.




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