Page 5 of Fight

I’m not sure what they’re talking about. “Who hired a new EMT?” I ask, attempting to participate in the conversation.

“SRFD.” The local structural fire department.

News spreads faster at Shifty’s than it does in the local paper.

“A newguy… or girl? Because that’s critical data,” Tex interrogates. It’s been years since his transfer from the Lonestar state, but the nickname stuck.

Curly stares off into the distance. “Remember that blonde chick, Abigail?Fuck.She was amazing.”

“Dude, those blue eyes?” Dixon puffs out a breath. “Abby was awesome.”

Her blowjobs certainly were.Half the guys at the bar nod, a few staring at their beer bottles longingly, reminiscing her oral prowess.Good lord.

Xander laughs. “Haven’t met ’em yet, but with the first name Prescott, I’m guessing it’s a dude.”

“Damn,” Tex says, then tips back the last of his beer and sets the empty bottle on the bartop with a hollow clink. Lou is already popping the cap off a new one for him.

“Even if the new guy was a chick,” King interjects, “Matt’s probably gonna be the medic in charge, he’s almost a bigger whore than Woods here.” He claps me on the back.

“Hey.” I smirk. “Don’t slut-shame me.”

I’m not going home with someone new every night, but I’m a bachelor who travels for work and has commitment issues. After I walked in on Molly bent over in front of Dave at Garrett Macomb’s funeral, I closed myself off to any future relationships. There’s a ton of infidelity in this job as it is. With the time hotshots and their significant others spend separated from each other, it happens in equal amounts on both sides. Personally, I’ve never cheated, the idea disgusts me on a visceral level. On almost every crew I’ve worked on, one-third are in relationships, one-third are divorced, and one-third are having the time of their lives—I’m in that camp. Life is short. Sex is fun. As long as everybody’s on the same page, who cares?

Occasionally, I’m hit with a bout of loneliness, especiallywhen I hear about some of the other guys having a woman to go home to, but the thought of discovering another affair again is enough to keep me from getting involved with anyone seriously; I’ve got a lot of demons to work through, and I don’t need to burden anyone with that.

It’s easier to have sexual encounters with no strings attached. All the fun, none of the hurt. Besides, most women I hook up with are in it for the same reason. They want a temporary fling, and I’m happy to oblige. The ones seeking relationships, who think they can be the one to “fix” me, don’t have to peel back too many layers to discover the futility of their efforts. The space my heart once occupied is barren, so there’s no use in trying to plant themselves there because nothing will ever grow.

I take another drink. The bar has slowly been filling with more Sky Ridge locals as the night goes on, so when I hear the door to the bar open, I think little of it until a quiet settles over the room. I turn my head to the right to see what’s got everyone hushed. Probably an out-of-towner who needs directions.

I quickly clock the gorgeous woman sidling up to the bar on the opposite end. Not a townie. If she’s lost, I will drive her home—and walk her to her bedroom to make sure she arrives safely.

It’s hard to tell if she’s a redhead or blonde with all the neon lights in here, but it falls in loose waves over her shoulders. She’s fit, but has some curves, and paired with her plush lips, this woman’s a knockout.

“Dibs,” Caleb says, pushing off the bar. He’s a rookie shot who’s wrapping up his first fire season. This kid is the most gullible dude I’ve ever met.

“Sit down,” I warn, staring straight ahead. I set my beer bottle on the bartop and keep her in my peripheral vision. Caleb’s way out of his league with this one.

“Here we go,” Xander mutters.

Alright, perhaps Idohave a bit of a reputation.

I cock my head toward him, and he exchanges a raised eyebrow at me.

Holding his judgmental stare, I retract my earlier statement. “Ya know what, Caleb? I take it back. Why don’t you go shoot your shot? You called dibs fair and square. I’ll get the next one.”

Xander breaks eye contact and chuckles into his beer before taking a drink.

Caleb narrows his eyes at me, and I shrug. He wastes no time scrambling off his barstool to introduce himself. This woman hasn’t even pulled up a seat yet. As expected, she smiles politely but appears a little uncomfortable with her back to the bar as he rushes to give her his best line, which I wouldloveto hear, if only to have a good laugh. I give him a minute to make an ass of himself.

“Here it comes…” Curly says.

She gives him a sympathetic look and a smile breaks out across my face. Poor kid. The woman sends him back to us like a sad puppy. The corner of my mouth turns up, and I chuckle. He should have known better, but mistakes are the best teachers. Caleb trudges back to our end of the bar, plopping onto his barstool and muttering, “Asshole” into his drink.

“Better luck next time, buddy.” One of the guys gives him a hard slap on the back.

I take a drink and feel her eyes on me. When I glance over, she quickly looks away and takes a seat at the bar. The regular hum of chatter returns among the patrons. She removes her wallet from her purse, opens it in her lap, and tabs through the contents of one of the pockets. Her lips move, as if she’s talking to herself.She’s counting bills.After a couple seconds, she nods to herself, and Lou ambles over to take her drink order.

Afterward, he turns around and grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf and an empty glass. My guess is she’s either had a rough day or is celebrating. I observe the casual way she leans back on her stool and rolls her lips together. With outstretchedarms, she pitter-pats her fingers on the bartop, surveys the room, and takes in the unfamiliar faces with a soft smile.