Flirting with Fire Page 6

  Mauro eyes my food and seems to grimace. I ignore the look and spread my hummus over my pita bread while my mouth really waters for the potato skins he’s piling sour cream on.

  We eat mostly in silence and though I haven’t been on a ton of dates, this is by far the worst.

  “How is it being a firefighter?” I ask, wiping my mouth with my napkin.

  He chews faster, taking a sip of his beer to wash the food down his throat.

  Way to go, Maddie, you’re really hitting this one out of the park.

  “It’s great. I love it.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you found something you enjoy.”

  He examines me for a second and then dips a mozzarella stick into the marinara sauce.

  “What about you? What do you do?” he asks before taking another bite and after I’ve sipped my wine.

  “I own my own company.”

  His eyes widen and a soft, genuine smile appears. “That’s awesome.”

  He doesn’t ask what exactly I do and I don’t volunteer any information.

  “You have a good schedule, right?” I ask, attempting another round of conversation.

  “Yeah, but if we’re out all day and night, it’s like the first day off is recovery time. I can’t complain though.” He drinks from his beer. “What do you want to play after this?”

  “Whatever you want,” I answer.

  I swear I catch a sour expression cross his face, but it disappears quickly.

  His phone rings.

  Here we go. The “friend” who needs him.

  He presses the ignore button and places the phone face down on the table. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” I’m a little shocked he didn’t take the out when he could.

  “What brought you out to the bachelor auction?” he asks.

  “My roommate’s dad is a widow and she was hoping that if he gets involved with someone, he’d spend less time up in her business.”

  He chuckles softly.

  “I understand, having a mom who doesn’t understand privacy. That’s how you ended up on a date with me, right? Your other friends are going out with my brothers?”

  Is it possible that guys gossip just like girls?

  “Um…yeah. Lauren Hunt?” I leave it open because maybe he remembers her from high school.

  His lips purse, but he shakes his head. I’m about to continue, but the recollection of her crosses his face. “Soccer team?”

  “Yeah.” My tone might hold a tad of bitterness now that he remembers her and not me.

  “She bid on you for me. I bid on Cristian for Vanessa and Vanessa bid on Luca for Lauren. It was really stupid. I have no idea why we agreed to it.” I push my plate away, uncomfortable eating in front of him.

  “So you didn’t want to go on a date with me?”

  “NO!” A few people at the tables around us glance our way so I lower my voice. “I wasn’t against it.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t try to sweet talk me.” The smile that consumes his face suggests he’s just joking. “So you knew who I was when we met that night?”

  The flush heats my face. “I did.” I take a large sip of my wine.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” He seems genuinely perplexed.

  His plate is clear except for the green lettuce and ramekins with half used sauce. He picks up his beer, holding the glass to his lips.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug.

  “Do I scare you?”

  “What?” His question throws me for a loop. “Why would you say that?”

  “That’s the loudest I’ve heard you speak since we met. Figure it has to be something.” He leans back in the booth, a pleased smile on his face.

  “And?”

  “And nothing. You’re a people pleaser.” He finishes his beer.

  “A people pleaser?” My forehead creases.

  “Yah. A people pleaser. You haven’t once picked anything you wanted to do this entire date.”

  “We’re here because I chose this place. I chose Boggle.”

  “Where you let me win.” He raises an eyebrow.

  My eyes glance down at the paper. “No, I didn’t.”

  He eyes the paper. My hands move, but he’s faster, swiping it up before I can grab it. His eyes scan the paper, his smile growing wider.

  “You beat me.”

  I tear the sheet from his hands. “I was being polite.”

  “You were being accommodating. Did you think I’d get pissed off if you won? Or that it would wound my self-esteem?”

  Okay, seems we’ve moved past the awkwardness now.

  “I was just being nice.”

  He nods like I just confirmed something he already believes.

  “I’m sick of nice.” He says the word nice like it’s bad.

  My back straightens. “Well I’m sorry, I’m a nice person.”

  “I think you’re confusing nice with a people pleaser. You didn’t have to lie and pretend that you lost. You could’ve thrown the piece of paper in my face and told me to suck it.”

  At this point, I think that my jaw is hanging open. Is that the kind of girl he wants?

  “That’s not me.”

  “You sure about that?” The grin on his face makes me want to smack it off him or kiss it off him—I’m not entirely sure which.

  I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, I’m certain.”

  “It’s too bad because you’re gorgeous. I had high hopes coming into this date that I pegged you wrong.” The cocky smirk on his lips might look delectable, but I’m ignoring the tug at my lady bits especially over the fact that he called me gorgeous.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. I think suffice it to say this date is over.”

  “We could do another round of Boggle. You could just pretend that you don’t spot the words again.”

  I throw my napkin on my plate, down the rest of my wine and slide out of the booth. “I’m done.”

  He catches my wrist before I can step away.

  I wrench it back. “What?”

  “Now this, I like.” His gaze flows up and down over me.

  A million swear words go off in my head, but I keep them to myself.

  “Have a nice life.”

  I stomp away, ignoring the blatant stares from onlookers questioning why a girl would dare leave a man like Mauro Bianco in such a fashion.

  Needless to say, I think I’m over my persistent high school crush.

  Chapter Six

  Mauro

  Her strawberry scent lingers after she flees from my unwarranted wrath, the crumpled up Boggle sheet still lay on top of her barely touched salad and hummus.

  I tried to ignore the signs.

  I let it go when she sheepishly looked at me when I opened the door for her.

  Like I didn’t hear her mumbled thank you.

  I kept throwing the decisions her way when we had to pick a game.

  The food she ordered was bird scraps at best.

  And then when she wouldn’t eat in front of me.

  But when she let me win, I couldn’t help but call her out on acting like she didn’t find the word ate. She’s way smarter than me. I realized that the minute I found her in my old yearbook.

  She was the president of the Honor Society her sophomore year. I saw her picture with the glasses and braces, more meat on her bones. I’m fairly sure that’s why she chose to keep her identity a secret from me. And if we were in high school again, I wouldn’t have blamed her, but we’re adults now. And when I called her out on it, I had high hopes she’d own who she was. Say ‘yeah, I was a nerd back then but so what?’ I’m still amazing and look at me now.

  Hell, I’d respected her if she shot out some cocky comment that I could’ve had her in high school but I was too shallow so I’m not getting a piece of her now. I would’ve made sure to prove her wrong.

  But she sat there all timid, eyes cast down and shy body language. After years of dating the same kind of woman and
the fact that my ex-girlfriend Jenna screwed me over, the dam broke.

  Sliding from the bench, I pocket her Boggle sheet and grab the game to place it back on the shelf on my way out. Some other poor sap can get schooled by his date.

  Once I’m back outside, I walk close to the storefront windows, trying to find shelter from the light mist falling out of the dark sky.

  Glancing at my phone, I see it was Luca calling me earlier. I dial him back.

  “Where are you? We’re heading to Rush Street tonight, want to join?” he asks.

  Another night at a club? No thank you.

  “Nah. Thanks though.”

  “When did both my brothers go pussy on me?” He doesn’t bother to hide the displeasure in his tone.

  Luca parties every night he isn’t on shift. Never did I think two years difference would feel more like six.

  “I just finished with a date.” I stop at the light, waiting to cross.

  “Didn’t go well, huh?”

  “How’d you know?”

  A bachelorette party files out of a limo parked by the curb. The poor bride who has dicks glued on every inch of her clothing stumbles into the pizza place. Yeah, she’s not making it to the bar.

  “Because you’re talking to me. You should be on your way to your apartment, or better yet have her pressed against a brick wall in the alley. The last place you should be is on the phone with me.”

  I can’t argue with him, he’s right. The date was a bust especially when I morphed into an asshole at the end.

  “I’m heading home.”

  “Perfect. That’s where I am.”

  My mood sours further. Luca tends to travel in packs. Him and his freeloader pack of wolves probably drank the last of my beer.

  “Why?”

  “Oh, sweet brother. You gave me a key, remember?”

  I step onto the red line train. The doors shut behind me. “That was for emergencies.”

  “I was out of beer. That is an emergency.” One of his jackass friends laughs in the background.

  “Leave my apartment and don’t take the key with you,” I warn, tapping end call.

  I slink down into an available seat. It’s too early for the train to be filled with young nightlife people like Luca but too late for commuters. Two couples sit on opposites sides of the train—one with limbs entwined and faces close. The other with backs straight and faces forward. The woman with her head in her phone and the man staring out the window. It’s like seeing the before and after effects of the infatuation phase of a relationship.

  Either the beer or exhaustion sets in and my eyes close as I rest my head against the glass of the window. Madison’s temper those last few seconds together overtake my thoughts. The way her cheeks flushed with anger and not arousal. How her sulking shoulders straightened and her jaw jutted out. The fire that glinted in her eye of all the things I could tell she wanted to say to me.

  All of it made me so rock hard, I almost pulled her into my lap and kissed her. Luckily, I refrained because I’m pretty sure she would’ve smacked me across the face. No matter how hot her fight got me, I realize now that it was wrong of me to take out my own frustrations on her.

  I exit the train at my stop and by the time I’m walking up the steps to my apartment I can hear the music inside blaring. Of course since my day has been a suckfest, Mrs. Peterman opens up her door just as I hit the landing, her wig half-cocked on her head, Mr. Wiggles in her arms as she stares at me with a pointed glare.

  “I can’t hear Survivor,” she tells me.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Peterman. It’s my brother.”

  “I saw him leave two hours ago.” She sucks her false teeth back into place.

  “Yeah, my other brother. The paramedic. Luca?”

  She looks at me like I’m speaking a language she doesn’t understand.

  “I can’t miss anything on the show. I’m trying to be nice here since you boys do so much for the city, but my show is important.”

  I put up my hand in apology. The last thing I need is her calling the landlord. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Mrs. Peterman.”

  She nods and steps back into her apartment, shutting the door behind her. The echo of five different locks following her departure. You’d think a woman so scared wouldn’t mind a little music when it meant that a cop and firefighter lived across the hall.

  I open my door because unlike Mrs. Peterman’s door, my brother believes he’s invincible. Or that he can take any burglar who wants to rob us.

  “Turn down the music.” I don’t wait for him to oblige because Luca and his buddies are all out on our small porch that overlooks…nothing spectacular.

  I press off on the stereo and Luca whips his head around, his attention inside the apartment immediately.

  “Mrs. Peterman complained.” I raise my hand before he can make some remark about what a pussy I am.

  “You’d think after that time I carried her down two flights of stairs and got her to the emergency room she’d stop giving us shit,” Luca says, coming in from the patio.

  I open the fridge, grabbing a beer and twisting it open.

  “First of all, you don’t live here.” I point at him with the neck of the beer.

  He shrugs, propping himself up on the kitchen counter, grabbing a tortilla chip from a bag he opened from our pantry. Forever the little brother.

  “We’re family.” He holds his arms out, inviting me into a hug I want no part of.

  “There’s a reason we don’t live together.” I inspect the kitchen, the empty beer bottles all over the table and chips and salsa strewn about the counter. “Cris is going to freak. Thanks for leaving me a Friday night of clean up.”

  I leave my beer on the counter and organize the beer bottles so after Luca and his dimwit friends leave, I can at least chill out and watch television.

  “Cris needs to lighten up. So tell me about your date?” He hops down and tosses his empty into the recycle bin before lining up a row of four shot glasses.

  “I’m not taking a shot,” I say.

  “Then I’ll take two.” He pours Jim Beam into the glasses but doesn’t call his friends in. “Come on, I’m your brother and panty melter extraordinaire.”

  I toss the paper towel in the trash. “I was an asshole and now I have to apologize.”

  “You were an asshole to Maddie?” His jaw hangs open. “She was always the sweetest girl.”

  “Not so sweet when you piss her off.” I snag my beer and tip it back. The shot is looking more appealing now when I think of how I have to make it right with her.

  “How’d you piss her off? I mean after high school, jeez, you really are an asshole.”

  I pause with my beer halfway lifted to my lips. “Excuse me?”

  “Come on. You aren’t that dense, are you?” Luca’s friends come in, all saying their hellos and fist bumping me. Half of them I’ve known just as long as my own friends. I figure this is good. Luca will leave and I don’t have to hear him tell me off for how I treated her. Instead he says, “Hey guys, I’ll meet you down at the club.”

  They all look at one another like their leader gave them a confusing order.

  “Luca, go. I’m gonna clean up so I don’t have to hear Cristian’s bitching when he gets home. After that, I’m hitting the sheets.”

  Luca shakes his head and nods toward the door so his friends leave.

  After the door shuts, Luca grabs a shot and hands it to me. I down it without argument and he downs another one.

  “You looked her up in the yearbook, right?” Luca’s eyes narrow to slits, curious to what the fuck I did. I’m not sure why he cares. It’s not like he’s friends with her. He’s never mentioned her or her friend until the auction.

  “Yeah, I looked her up.”

  “And?”

  “And what? She looks different, I noticed that. I get what you guys were saying…that we didn’t travel in the same circles and that I was a dick in high school, but none of that has anything to do wi
th her.”

  He blows out a breath and lets out a cocky chuckle, suggesting I truly am the stupidest person he’s ever met.

  “Madison Kelly loved you, man. I mean head over heels for you. Hunt probably bid on you because she wanted to give her best friend the date she’s been waiting a decade for.”

  “Hunt?” I have no idea who he’s talking about.

  “Her friend, Lauren Hunt.”

  “You refer to her by her last name?”

  Luca shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about her. You really don’t remember Maddie?”

  I swig down a few more mouthfuls of beer. “She looked kind of familiar in the pictures. But I was a senior and she was a sophomore. I didn’t know a ton of sophomores.” I shrug and then throw my empty beer bottle into the recycling.

  “You didn’t know a lot of nerds.” Luca tilts his head and gives me a challenging stare.

  “High school was eleven years ago. I wasn’t an asshole to her tonight because she wore glasses and had braces. I was an asshole because she was all shy and timid.” I throw my hands in the air. “I have no fucking clue why I’m still talking to you about this.”

  Going out to my balcony, I pick up after Luca and his destruction crew.

  His footsteps follow behind me like I assumed they would. “You’re talking to me because it bothers you that you hurt that poor girl’s feelings.” He frowns and sticks out his bottom lip. “You came to your more knowledgeable brother for advice.” He extends his arms and uses his hands to motion me in for a hug. “Come, Luca will make it all better.”

  I throw a cheeseball at him and it pings off his forehead. “You should probably get going to meet your friends.”

  He chuckles. “Tell me what’s wrong with shy and timid? They’re usually the kinky ones in bed.”

  I stop to stare at him, unamused.

  “What?” He raises his hands up in a placating fashion. “It’s not stereotyping if it’s fact.”

  I plop down on one of the two chairs we have on the small outdoor space. Propping my feet up on the metal railing, I stare out at the sliver of skyline view we have before the next building blocks it. I notice a party full of girls in the condo building across the street, and it’s clear what Luca and his friends were doing out here.