Firefighter's Virgin

I wondered if it was my imagination or if Rodney pursed his lips a little. He slid down the counter and pointed to another ring with a tiny diamond in the center. It was almost Spartan in appearance, compared to everything else, but I liked it.

“That ring retails for four thousand, two hundred dollars, sir.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Thank you.”

I turned around and walked out of the store, knowing that I’d probably never go back there again. I headed to the supermarket in a fog of thought and ended up forgetting three of the eleven items on my grocery list. When I got back home, all I could think of was Megan, so I called her, but there was no reply. I wondered what Paul would do in my place.

It was strange to think of Paul now. He seemed so far removed from the world I’d grown accustomed to.

I usually avoided thinking of him, usually because it meant picturing him in jail clothes sitting in a dank cell. I knew my imagination wasn’t even close to the real thing, but I kept jumping to worst-case scenario. It had been a long time since I’d visited him, and I wondered if he was angry with me. I wondered if he was hurt.

We had been close at one point, before our falling out. We had been as close as brothers could be. And then our lives had diverged, and our choices had shaped the rest of our lives.

I wanted to talk to someone, and I realized that someone was Megan. There were signs of her all over my apartment now. She kept a few clothes here in case of emergencies and a jacket that was currently thrown across the sofa.

Some of her books were lying on the coffee table in front of the television. There was some of her leftover meatloaf in the fridge, and there was a dream-catcher she had found at a flea market hung over my window. Her scent was stamped all over my apartment and as comforting as it was, it also reminded me that she was not here, and that made me miss her even more.

I wanted to try calling her again, but I didn’t want to be a pain, so I forced away the impulse and started making mac and cheese for dinner.

I was almost done with dinner when my phone started ringing. “Megan?” I said, picking it up.

“Hey, you.” Her voice was like honey. “Sorry I missed your call.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

“What’s up?”

“Uh…nothing,” I said lamely.

“Nothing?” she repeated, and she sounded amused.

“I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You sound a little down?” she said gently.

“Not down,” I clarified. “Just…contemplative, I suppose.”

“Would you like some company?”

I smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I felt her smile. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Megan?” I said quickly, before she could hang up.

“Yes?”

“Maybe you could bring a few clothes over… In case you wanted to stay a few days or something?”

“I’ll do that,” she said readily. “See you soon.”

The line went dead, and I felt a little spark as my melancholy mood lifted. I moved around the apartment, thinking about my life up until this moment. I thought back through all my past relationships and realized that I had never had this feeling before. I had never waited longingly to see any one of my

ex-girlfriends. I had never missed them when I didn’t see them for any length of time. And when each of those relationships had ended, I hadn’t felt a loss in my life.

Something told me that if Megan disappeared tomorrow, I would not only feel it, but I would be devastated. It wasn’t just her body that had me spellbound, it was her mind, her conversation, her smile and above all else, her laugh. She made me happy. She made me feel like it was possible for me to have a happy ending. And for a guy like me, that wasn’t just huge—it was transformative.

Chapter Eighteen