I ditched my drink outside the restroom and now wish I had it to slam back. I love these two like brothers, but they can be crude as hell, and while I’m still a man and have my moments, my momma raised me right when it comes to women. She’d have kicked notonly my ass, but my brothers’ as well if she heard any one of us talking like that about a lady. When one of us was guilty, we were all guilty. At least when it came to things like that. It instilled good values and lessons into me, though, so I love her for it.
“I found a dance partner,” I correct.
“Where is she?” Tyson asks, looking over my shoulder. “I want to meet the type of woman our boy goes for.”
Ethan wraps his arm around my neck, smacking my chest. “Maybe this one will get past the first three dates, hey?”
When my crew at the fire station found out about my three-date rule, the yelling, hollering, pestering, and teasing… it was never-ending. The women of our fire family loved it, which made all the guys go even harder. Lover boy, Romeo… I’ve heard it all. For the most part, I don’t mind it. It gets them laughing, smiling, and I won’t lie, I like the attention. Especially since, until yesterday, I was the probie. The new kid on the block who wasn’t a full-fledged firefighter yet. It could have been a lot worse for me than them picking on the fact that I have a three-date rule. A rule I think they respect more than they let on.
“My man, you gotta let that go,” Tyson says, shaking his head, blond waves falling into his eyes that always look messy but perfect. “Enjoy every second a woman is willing to share her body with you. And looking like that,” he gestures up and down my body, “we all know the ladies can’t resist you.”
“Fuck right off,” I laugh, punching him in the arm.
Both Tyson and Ethan laugh, and then, like they share a brain, turn towards the bar to flag down the bartender, then back to the discarded ladies. At the same time. They’re like this at work, too. Our lieutenant always tells them they don’t need to do everything together, but I don’t think either one of them can actually help it.
I guess I shouldn’t sayourlieutenant anymore. After graduatingfrom the program yesterday, I’m switching houses. From Station Six, to Station Nine. If they’d had room to stay at Station Six, I would have jumped on it, but the house was full for permanent firefighters.
Now, my first official shift as a firefighter instead of a probie is in two days. Where I’ll meet my new fire family at Station Nine.
I’m stoked.
And since failure isn’t an option, I hope I can live up to all expectations of the new house.
“Look, boys, I know tonight was about celebrating, bu—”
“Please go get that pussy,” Tyson says, drawing out the word ‘please’ and holding up his hands in prayer. “Please, man.”
“Yeah, we can always do this again. Or fuck, meet at 10-42 for some beers one night,” Ethan interjects, pushing his hand through the top of his dark hair. “You can tell us all about your new crew.”
“Who you’re going to love,” Tyson says. Nothing they haven’t already told me. “Nate is the best.”
Nate owns 10-42, a local bar the whole crew talks about. I’ve never been. It seems like every time the guys make plans, I end up on mandatory overtime because someone calls in sick or something else happens. As the new kid on the block, I was eager for the hours. Ready to prove myself.
“Did I ever tell you I hit on his woman when she first started working there?” Tyson adds, looking at Ethan.
“I was there, numb nuts. I watched the whole thing,” Ethan says, shaking his head.
Tyson’s face goes slack for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning as he pulls up the memory. Then he nods in agreement. “That’s right. You were. Whatever man. She’s a smoke show. That lucky dog.”
The irony of Tyson calling some other guy a dog.
“Alright, this has been fun, but I’m gonna…” I say, throwing a thumb over my shoulder.
“If we don’t see you again tonight, let us know how first shift goes,” Ethan says, going in for another slap on the back.
Tyson follows suit, clapping me an extra time for luck. “And don’t be a stranger.”
“Your mom’s cooking is way too good to be a stranger.”
Tyson’s family invited me for Christmas dinner when I didn’t have a chance to go home for the holidays a few months ago. It was almost as good as my mom’s cooking, which was great because his mom invited me back anytime. An invitation I’ve taken up more than a few times since that first dinner. Tyson might be a crude womanizer, but he loves his family. He ends up at home at least once a week for a meal and to help his parents around the house. There is never a fully free meal when it comes to going to the Saxe’s for dinner. When Tyson realized how handy I am, he was even more inclined to bring me along. The two of us always find something to fix.
Leaving them at the bar, I head back across the dance floor, but the further I get, eyes sweeping across tables and chairs, the more my brow furrows. There’s no sign of Bryn. Or Savanna and Jordan.
Fuck.
Did they take off on me? Did I read the situation wrong?
No. There’s no way.
