But a rebound fling isn’t such a bad thing, I suppose. Roll out the training wheels for a real relationship further down the road. Or that’s what I thought before Wozniak stopped by my office the other day. His possession of that knowledge has sharpened my thinking and made me acutely aware of everything I have to lose.
And I’m not talking about my job.
“What’s on your mind, Diner Dude?”
“Well, Cherry Pie, I’m wondering if I’m a little bit crazy, medium level bananas, or wholesale bonkers.”
“It does feel a little like that. Dangerous, but good.”
Right, Ms. Adrenaline Junkie likes the sneak-around factor. Doesn’t mean it can’t become more. “My biggest concern is how this plays out at work. With Wozniak in the know, word will get out. Or he’ll think of a way to use it. If he tries anything or makes a crack, let me know.”
“So you can knock him into the middle of next week? That doesn’t seem very smart after what happened in New York.”
I suspect Abby would rather we call it quits than risk me getting into a fight with a co-worker that threatens my career.
“He has a point, though. That kind of dynamic changes a crew. There will come a time where I won’t want to send you into a dangerous situation because I’m worried about you.”
She sits up, eyes flashing with outrage, her beautiful breasts swaying. It’s quite the sight and gets me semi-hard again. “You will treat me no differently, Roman Rossi.”
My gaze dips to her chest. “Easier said than done.”
She pulls at the sheet, probably realizing that any point might be better made with less nakedness. “You don’t want to see any of your crew hurt. There’s no good reason why you should feel extra care for me.” And before I can protest, she adds, “Sleeping together is not a good enough reason.”
“Damn, that’s cold.” As if “sleeping together” can adequately describe this. We’re both liars.
Is it a lie if we’re so upfront about it?
“Please don’t wrap me up in cotton wool while I’m trying to do my job. I need to learn. I need to prove I can do this.”
Because of her father. And he’s the last person I need on my ass, especially after our ill-fated first meeting.
Still, I want to push the boundaries. I want her to draw the lines, lay it out there clearly. “You think your father wouldn’t understand you getting involved with a fellow firefighter? It happened to him.”
It’s happening to me. I am involved to a worrying degree.
“Yeah, and sometimes I think he wished it never did.”
“I can’t believe that. You’re the result of that union. And they were happy, weren’t they?”
She looks torn. “I thought so. But he encouraged her to give up her job, her career, and that had to have created a lot of tension. Relationships between two first responders are going to be stressful.” Her words and expression are a warning: We’re not in a relationship so don’t make this into something that impacts her job.
I get it. Easier said than done, though. Whether she’s my crew, my lover, or both, I’m going to worry about her.
“Roman, I mean it.”
“I know you do. What I’m hearing is don’t fall for you because you don’t want the hassle of worrying about me. Or me worrying about you. When I’m gonna do that anyway.”
She throws up her hands. “Why are you pushing on this?”
Point taken. Why am I even trying to logic my way into a relationship with this woman? Maybe because I see the potential. I saw it that first night we met at the diner and the peculiarity of our situation has thrown a wrench in the works. We’re fooling ourselves that sex alone can be enough.
“Because I like you. And I think you like me.”
She growls and it’s so damn cute I laugh my head off.
“Not funny, Rossi. I will be using your body and occasionally, asking that you cook those killer meatballs. The only uses I have for you.”
“Got it.”
She pushes at my shoulder. “Do you? Because I’m feeling waves of condescension from your corner.”
“From this corner? No way. I’m determined to not fall in love with you, either. Shouldn’t be difficult as you’re a pain in the ass.”
She flops back on the pillow, mutters “asshole,” and orders me to return to my family so she can get some sleep.
Thirty-two
Abby
My phone buzzes with a message from Lena. Since the night I had dinner with the Rossis, she’s been texting me with fun tweets from Evil Dick, a former Big Brother housemate who’s made a career out of show commentary. She’s also talked a little about her mom’s wedding, and this morning, she’s sent me a photo.
This is what my mom wants the bridesmaids to wear.
It looks like a cupcake explosion and I’m guessing Lena wouldn’t be sharing it if she liked it. She’s waiting for me to weigh in.
I go for neutrality. That’s interesting.
Yeah. I hate it but I can’t tell my mom or she might get mad. I can’t tell Dad, either, because they’ll get into a fight.
Hmm. Not sure how to respond here. I don’t want to give the wrong advice but I think her mom should hear the truth.
Maybe tell her you’d like to wear something more your style. You could check the website for the dresses to see if there’s anything in the same color. Lots of weddings have different outfits in the party, just the same color to keep the theme.
Okay, I’ll look at the site. Thanks, Abby!
Feeling like I’ve done some holy work, I close my locker door, kiss my mom’s Claddagh pendant and head to the lounge. Gage is cooking up French toast this morning and the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafts through the air like a sweet-smelling holiday breeze. But before I make it to the corridor I run into Wozniak.
Tension has existed since he walked in on Roman and me on the last shift. He hasn’t said anything to me directly, so I’m waiting for an anvil to drop on my head. Maybe today’s the day.
“Sullivan, got a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Listen, there’s no easy way to say this …” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “You’re not doing yourself any favors gettin’ involved with Rossi. Only one direction that can go and it won’t be good for you.”
I could deny but what would be the point? Besides, I’m semi-curious about how this might play out with an audience. “It’s just casual.”
“No such thing as casual in the firehouse. Too much at stake and too many ways it can go wrong. In the heat of the moment, people make bad calls for good reasons.” He shakes his head, all pity I don’t believe for a second. “Look, you don’t have to listen to me, maybe talk to your friends about the wisdom of hooking up with your CO.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Deciding I don’t like where this conversation is going, I make to move past him.
“But then I’m guessing you don’t want anyone to know, which should tell you everything about why you shouldn’t be doing this. Venti wouldn’t like it, but maybe he’ll give a pass to the golden boy. The Italian thing and all. Your father? Now that’s another story.”