Firefighter's Virgin

“Well, you sure have a funny way of going about it. Generally, when people don’t want to hurt someone they allegedly care about, they don’t go around acting like they think they’re the greatest person on earth when really they feel the complete opposite.” Her chin trembled a little, but her eyes stayed dry. Which was good, because I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle it if she started crying.

I had to just turn it off, though. Any feelings that I had for her, any desire, it all just had to go. I had to see her the way I’d seen pretty much every other woman that I’d ever been with: fun to hang around with, but ultimately, dispensable. I couldn’t let myself think that she was anything more than that, because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to let her go.

“If it’s going to be that awful for you, you don’t have to stay the two weeks,” I said. “I don’t want to make things any more difficult for you than they already are.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “You’ve already made things completely awful for me—why the hell should you start caring about that now?”

“I do care, Daisy. I actually care a lot.” I knew I should shut the fuck up, but at the very least, I wanted her to know that I still cared about her.

But the look on her face got even more pissed off. “You know what?” she said. “I think I will take you up on that offer. I’m not coming back after today—I don’t think I can handle listening to more of the bullshit that is coming out of your mouth.”

She turned and left before I could say anything else. Though really—what else was there to say?

Jonathan, though, had plenty to say. He’d come in right as she was leaving. I think she had planned to spend the day working, but after our conversation in my office, it quickly became clear how bad of an idea that would be. She stiffly said good-bye to me, and then gave Jonathan a tight smile and a nod as she made her way out.

“Thanks for getting me the job here,” she said, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now. But yeah, everything will be fine.” And then she left. She didn’t bother to turn and look at me, just kept walking until she was out of my sight. I wondered if that would be the last time I’d ever see her.

“What the hell happened with Daisy?” Jonathan asked.

“Not now,” I said. “I really don’t feel like getting into it right now.”

He gave me a sour look. “That’s exactly what she said, too. But I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to know what’s going on around here. She’s leaving? She quit? So we have to hire someone else?”

“Call Lynn,” I said. “Her resume’s still on file. See if she’s still available. Hey, I have a question.”

“What?”

“Did you know that Seamus McAllister was the one who got Pete to stop kicking my ass? Remember how Pete just stopped all of a sudden? Like he’d lost interest or something?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said slowly. “You were finally big enough, and he realized one of these days you were going to fight back.”

“I should’ve done it a long time ago. He was right—I was a total pussy.” I thought about that meeting with Seamus, agreeing to stop seeing the girl I loved just because he was telling me to. “I still am, actually.”

Jonathan looked at me closely. “Errr . . . you all right, man?”

I wanted to punch the fucking wall, but I was afraid if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

Chapter Thirty

Daisy

I didn’t know what my plan B was supposed to be. I hadn’t gotten any call backs from any of the resumes I’d sent out, and now I was officially without a job. I spent the day on as many different jobs sites as I could, sending out my resume, trying to come up with a cover letter that would get me noticed. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be because everything I seemed to write sounded inauthentic or ridiculous.

I jumped when I heard my phone ring. I looked at it and saw that it was my mother.

“Hi, Mom,” I said when I picked up.

“Hello, Daisy. I was just taking a break from my book and I thought I’d give you a call. How are you?”

“Not great, actually.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“I quit my job.”