Firefighter's Virgin

It was a risky gamble though, what he was doing. He was banking on the fact that I wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of hiring this freak between the sheets (yeah right) while at the same time hoping she would be far more beguiled by his charms than my own. Not impossible, but not likely. Although, if she were more into the boy-next-door-type then Jonathan certainly would be her man.

Jonathan sat there, giving me what basically amounted to dog-begging-for-treat eyes. Christ, he was whipped. How had I not seen this before?

“Okay,” I said finally. A grin broke out onto Jonathan’s face before I’d even started my next sentence. “I’ll hire her. I already called her and told her it was a no-go, but I’ll call her back and tell her I’ve reconsidered. Which is going to make me look like an indecisive asshole, of course, but I’m willing to do that for you.”

“That’s awesome, man,” Jonathan said. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

“Just remember to send me an invite to the wedding,” I said.

Chapter Two

Daisy

After I had gotten off the phone with Ian, I sat there at the kitchen table and stared at a water stain in the shape of a heart. How long had that been there? Why was I just noticing it now? I was asking myself these ridiculous questions because I was trying not to think about the fact that I hadn’t been hired, despite me foolishly thinking that the interview had gone pretty well.

He hadn’t even waited a day to call and tell me that I didn’t get the job; had it even been two hours? I took a deep breath and then forced myself up. I got a glass from the cupboard and had some water.

You didn’t get the job.

No one is ever going to hire you.

You shouldn’t have left the hair salon.

Except, I hadn’t left Shear Genius—I’d been fired. And what had Rosie, the manager that I’d turned in for embezzling, said to me? That I’d never get hired anywhere again?

Something along those lines.

I went into the living room, which looked out onto Locust Street. My apartment building was right on the corner of Locust and Pine, Pine being the busier of the two roads. I looked out the window and saw a maroon Rav4 parked on Locust. The glare was hitting the driver’s side window just right so I couldn’t make out who was sitting there, but I knew anyway: Noah. I took a deep breath as I felt my heart rate accelerate, and not in a good way. It was fairly warm out, but my arms were suddenly covered in goosebumps. I hurried out of the living room and grabbed my phone and my purse and left through the front entrance on Pine, hoping that I could make it to my car and drive out of there before he saw me.

I went to my best friend’s apartment. Caroline lived on the top floor, so there was no chance of anyone peeking into her windows, five stories up. We’d been best friends for years, and had seen each other through some pretty bad breakups. Well, she’d been the one doing most of the dating; I’d been on a few dates that had been disastrous, and now this, with Noah—we hadn’t even dated, yet he was acting as though I’d scorned him.

All we’d done, in fact, was get a smoothie at the gym’s café one afternoon. We’d seen each other around the gym for a while, and he seemed perfectly nice. Quiet, maybe, but then again, I could seem quiet, too. I had just been coming out of a spin class, probably five weeks ago, now, and he caught up with me and asked if I’d like to go to the café with him. I could tell he was nervous and that it had probably taken a lot for him to work up the courage to ask me, so of course I agreed. He wasn’t awful looking, but he wasn’t the sort of person that you’d probably look twice at, were you to pass them on the street. Not like some of the guys Caroline had dated, certainly not like Ian, but I liked to think I wasn’t so superficial. That just because someone wasn’t a ten on the hotness scale didn’t mean I couldn’t give them a chance.

It had been pretty awful, though. Not at first. For the first couple of minutes, we were able to talk about topical things, like how our workout had been, how long we’d been coming to the gym for, what classes there we liked. But then the conversation seemed to stall, or we’d start talking at the same time. We just didn’t gel, there was no coalescing, and it became clear after ten minutes that we really didn’t have anything in common. He worked from home as a freelance web designer; the whole reason he’d signed up at the gym was because he spent most of his day sitting in front of his computer. When our smoothies were finally finished (I’d made the mistake of allowing him to pay for mine, but only because the cashier had rung them up together) I said thank you and good-bye and figured that we’d both breathe a sigh of relief that we wouldn’t have to do that again.

Oh, how wrong I had been.

He caught up with me the next time I was at the gym, a happy smile on his face, saying that he’d had such a great time and we should do it again, and what was my phone number? I gave it to him, only because he caught me so off guard. He wanted to know what I was doing after my workout that day, and if I would let him take me out to lunch, at a real restaurant this time, not just some lame café. I lied and said I had plans with Caroline. I realize now that I should have been clear right then, that I should have just told him I wasn’t interested and perhaps that wouldn’t have led him on. But maybe not. Maybe he’d be doing this anyway, regardless of what I said.

“I think Noah was hanging around again,” I said when Caroline opened the door. “I caught sight of him outside the living room window. He was sitting in his car. Well, I’m pretty sure it was him.”

She peered over my shoulder and then ushered me inside. “What a creep,” she said. “You really should go to the cops. I mean, there’s got to be some sort of law against that kind of thing, right?”

“He hasn’t done anything yet. He’s technically not trespassing; the worst that’s happened is I thought I saw him looking into one of my windows one night. But I wasn’t even sure it was him.”

“Of course it was him. Who else would it be?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, and it probably was him. But I’d need proof, wouldn’t I? I can’t just go to the police and say that there’s this guy who I think is stalking me. I guess that’s what I get for living on the ground floor. And he hasn’t tried to break into my apartment. I don’t want to piss him off. I’m hoping he’ll just eventually lose interest.”

“Ugh.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “He’s so gross. This is what you get for being nice to someone. Let this be a lesson: Don’t start up a friendly conversation with a psycho guy at the gym. Come on, let’s have some wine.”

I followed her into the kitchen and then sat at the breakfast bar on one of the high stools.

“How did the job interview go?” she asked as she poured me a glass.

“I didn’t get it.” I slid the glass across the container and took a big gulp. Part of me still couldn’t believe it.

“Come on now, Daisy. Don’t be so negative. I bet you did really good on the interview. You’re just being too hard on yourself.”