Taking the Heat

by Victoria Dahl

  “Jesus, Lauren!” one called. “When I said you should hire a hot new librarian, that wasn’t what I meant!”

  “Gabe,” she said drily, “that’s William, and those other two are Henry and Elliott. I’m afraid they’re a little disappointed with you.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “They’re probably just jealous because they can’t grow facial hair.”

  “Hey!” William yelled back. “We can—we’re just not allowed to.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  The other firefighters razzed William as Gabe walked away.

  “We’ll work this out on the court!” William called.

  “You got it,” Gabe answered, happy for the excuse to get in a little time on the fire station’s outdoor basketball court. They seemed to pick up games at all hours of the morning and night, and Gabe missed the public courts near his apartment in Cincinnati.

  “Night, Lauren,” he said as she headed toward her car and he set out for his apartment on foot. He was keenly aware that Veronica’s building was on his way.

  If he took a right at the next street, he’d miss her place by one block. He could walk home, go for a run, relax with a book afterward. And be distracted the whole time that she might be waiting to hear from him.

  He’d promised her, after all. He didn’t have to take her up on her...request, but he did have to get in touch. Tonight or tomorrow or at her next performance.

  The idea of leaving it until next Thursday tightened his shoulders into such painful knots that Gabe went straight through the intersection and headed toward Veronica’s apartment. Hell, the most likely outcome was that she didn’t remember anything and he could try to forget the whole thing, too.

  “Yeah, right,” he muttered. Still, at least he wouldn’t have to wonder if she was worrying.

  And there was the chance that she remembered every detail and wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

  He took off his tie, freed the top button of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves as if he were preparing himself for an arduous task. Two more blocks and he was at her condo building. He turned up her walk and then knocked on the door without giving himself time to think about it.

  The nearest window was sealed up tight, but he could see light through the peephole in the door. He waited a few moments, listening for the sound of footsteps, then rang the doorbell.

  Still nothing. The street was quiet out front. He leaned closer, trying to tell if the faint sound of movement he’d heard was coming from her place. Nothing. He was turning to leave when he saw the light in the peephole flicker to dark for a split second. He squared his shoulders, trying to think what he’d say when she opened the door.

  She didn’t open the door.

  He frowned. Leaned closer. Lifted his hand to knock again, but he let his knuckles hover just above the wood.

  “Veronica?” he called. She didn’t respond. “It’s Gabe. Gabe MacKenzie. From last night.”

  There was a soft sound, like a breath or the brush of fabric. He waited for the lock to click open. It didn’t.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Veronica?”

  “I’m fine,” she finally said through the wood.

  His tight shoulders relaxed. “Good. I thought you might be a little hungover.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice more muffled now. “A little.”

  “Are you up for talking?”

  The wood stared silently at him.

  He winced and lowered his voice. “Listen, Veronica, it’s no big deal.”

  The lock finally clicked. The door swung in. He was startled to see her without her heels again, inches shorter than he expected her to be. She looked different in other ways, too. Younger, really, her blue eyes naked of makeup and her face a little paler. She crossed her arms snugly over the plain gray T-shirt she wore.

  “We don’t need to talk,” she said.

  “Are you sure? I did make you a promise.” He offered a smile, but she only cringed.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she said. “Like, really, really sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. Honestly.”

  “No, it’s not. But we don’t ever need to talk about it. You’re not going to tell anyone, are you? Because if you did, I could—”

  “Hey.” He started to reach toward her, but the tight way she was holding herself made him hesitate. “I’m not going to tell anyone. Why would I?”

  “I don’t know.” One of her shoulders rose in a shrug. “Because I’m living a lie. Because it’s funny. Because it’s so fucking weird.”

  “Jesus, Veronica. That’s crazy. I don’t think it’s funny or weird.”

  “It’s a little funny,” she insisted. “You know it is.”

  He thought of her confession and ducked his head to hide a smile. “Okay, I admit I’m intrigued by the ‘pretty much’ part.”

  She groaned, but when he glanced up at her, he noticed that her hands had relaxed. She wasn’t gripping her arms nearly as firmly now.

  Gabe leaned against the door frame. “I haven’t said a word to anyone and I never will. I swear.”

  “Okay,” she said, squeezing herself tight again. She looked tired.

  “I just got off work. I’m starving. Have you eaten?”

  She shot a look toward her kitchen. “Kind of.”

  “Kind of? Is that like ‘pretty much’?”

  “Shut up,” she said, pouting a little now. He noticed that her lips were full and pink even without lipstick.

  “Come to dinner. We can have a drink and talk.”

  “Nope. I never want to have a drink or talk again.”

  “Food, though?” he pressed. “Food sounds good?”

  Her head dropped. She took a deep breath. “I’m not even dressed.”

  “You look dressed to me.”

  “I’m wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt.”

  “Throw on a hoodie and you’ve got a look. Let’s go.”

  She finally cracked a smile, though she tried to hide it. Gabe ducked down and met her eye. “Come on. You’ve got to eat.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning on leaving the house today.”

  “Why?”

  She groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. “Because I didn’t want to take the chance I’d run into you.”

  “Well, shit, I really screwed that up. No wonder you didn’t want to see me. I’ve ruined everything.”

  “You’re a dork,” she muttered, but this time there was no hiding her smile. Her eyes crinkled at the edges and her gaze rose to his. He suddenly remembered the way she’d leaned close and whispered the word fucking to him the night before.

  Gabe stood straighter and cleared his throat. “What sounds good? Mexican?”

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Mexican is always good after a hangover. Come on. My treat.”

  Despite what he thought was an inspiring tone, she still stared doubtfully at him for quite a while. He wasn’t sure why he felt so invested in getting her out for dinner, but he wasn’t going to give up.

  “I look like shit,” she finally said.

  “You’re beautiful,” he answered.

  Her face flickered in a brief frown, but she hid it quickly. “Whatever. I’m starving. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Gabe stopped himself from raising a fist in triumph.

  She slipped on flip-flops, took a hoodie from the closet by the door and grabbed her keys. Her toenails were painted bright blue. Gabe knew it was a bad sign that he found that impossibly cute.

  They headed toward a place four blocks away that even Gabe already knew was the best Mexican in town. She had her arms crossed tight again, pushing her breasts up in a way that caught Gabe’s eye.<
br />
  Damn. There was no way to pretend she hadn’t told him what she’d told him. She clearly wanted to forget, but Gabe might need electroshock therapy to shake last night loose. Are you sure you won’t stay? He was afraid she’d never ask that again.

  When they reached a busier street, Veronica pulled her fleece jacket on and tugged up the hood as if she was hiding.

  “No one else knows,” he said in a stage whisper.

  “I know,” she sighed, “but I’m supposed to have my shit together. I’m not supposed to be the depressed, hungover girl who hides in her house in old yoga pants all day. I really can’t believe I’m dressed like this in front of you, of all people.”

  “Me? Why? My hobbies are basically sweating in the woods, reading in my underwear and nerding out on my computer. Flannel shirts and workout gear make up about fifty percent of my closet.”

  “Fine, but you’re just...” She waved a hand up and down his body just as she had the night before. “Whatever. I told you last night.”

  “Sure, but I thought that was the alcohol talking. Are you saying you really think I’m beautiful?”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re going to bring up every word I said last night.”

  “Not every word. But that one was pretty good.”

  “Like I’m the first girl to call you beautiful,” she muttered.

  Gabe laughed. “I swear to God, you’re the first. And probably the last. So let me enjoy it.”

  Her face was pink with embarrassment, but she was smiling as Gabe reached for the door of the restaurant and waved her in. “How about a margarita?” he asked with a wink.

  “You’re a monster,” she answered, not even looking at him as she breezed past.

  “Sorry.”

  Service was quick, one of the benefits of living in a tourist town during the off-season. The full-time residents could eat cheap and fast at even the best restaurants because they were dying to get people in.

  They both ordered quickly. Gabe got a beer, but Veronica stuck with water. “Lots of water,” she explained to the waiter. She glared at Gabe when he smiled.

  “I’m not laughing at you,” he explained. “I’m laughing with you.”

  “I don’t think I’ve quite reached the ‘this will be funny someday’ point.”

  “Wrong. You already pointed out how funny it was,” he said before he popped a chip into his mouth. “God, they’ve got great salsa.”

  She took a bite and closed her eyes. “They really do.”

  “This is so much better than anything I could find in Ohio.”

  When the waiter brought his beer, Gabe took a long draw before sitting back in his chair. Veronica looked much more relaxed now. And pretty as hell. She’d pushed the hood off when they’d entered the restaurant and her hair was a little...askew. But he liked it. She looked touchable. Flawed. Fuckable.

  “Can I ask you something?” he ventured.

  “No,” she answered immediately, but then she sighed, her gaze flashing up to him before she looked at the chips again. “Fine, go ahead,” she said, then stuffed a chip into her mouth.

  “How did you manage to get through high school and college and New York City without ever having sex?”

  Her expression didn’t change. She wasn’t shocked by the question. She must have known that he would ask.

  She folded her hands and leaned forward, her voice going quiet. “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone, Gabe. Nobody else knows. I wish you didn’t know. I don’t know why I told you.”

  “I swear,” he answered immediately.

  “I was so drunk.”

  “I get it,” he promised.

  “You can’t even tell Lauren,” she said.

  He felt his eyes go wide. “I guarantee that I don’t discuss sex with Lauren. Or any other woman in my workplace.”

  “Of course. I just...” She waved a hand. “This is just embarrassing. And ridiculous.”

  “I’m sure there are a lot of people who’ve never—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Not people who claim some expertise in the area!”

  He nodded. “Okay. I get that.”

  “And even aside from that, it’s just... It was okay for a while, you know? I wasn’t a popular girl in high school. It was complicated. I didn’t really go out with anyone. Not seriously. I dated in college, but back then I thought I wanted my first time to be special. I wanted to be in love. Now I wish I’d just slept with that cute guy in my philosophy class during sophomore year. I can’t even remember his name now. That would’ve been perfect.”

  Gabe smiled. “I’m sure he’d have thought so, too.”

  “After college I went to New York, and then... God, then it was like a weird weight I was dragging around with me. I felt like the only adult virgin in the whole damn city. I told one guy. Only one. And then I never told anyone again. Until you.”

  The last words could have been meaningful and sweet, but she said them with the rough edge of frustrated regret so that they sounded like “Until you, asshole.” He tried not to take it personally.

  “So what happened with that one guy you told?”

  “He made a big speech about how he wasn’t ready to settle down. After we’d been on two dates. I mean, he actually stood up to pace back and forth in his living room as he talked about his five-year plan. It was as if I’d presented him with my virginity wrapped in a spell of eternal connection and topped with an engagement ring. Jesus, he was trying to get a BJ—I just thought he should know!”

  Gabe tried not to laugh. He really did. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to control his amusement, but when she rolled her eyes and smiled, he burst out laughing. “You’re really good at painting a picture,” he managed to say, but then he had to stop and wipe tears from his eyes. “And you’re really, really funny.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still shaking her head at his laughter. “That’s sweet. But I swear it wasn’t funny.”

  “But he was just trying to get a BJ!” Gabe gasped, then totally lost it again.

  Veronica finally laughed, too. “God, it was like he thought I was going to superglue his penis to me forever. Because that’s what I’d dreamed of my whole life. Getting my hands on a first-year stockbroker’s penis. And never letting go.”

  She collapsed onto the table, laughing too hard to stay upright. Once his own laughter had died, Gabe found himself grinning at her, he was that damn happy he’d cheered her up.

  “I guess things didn’t work out for you two?”

  “No. I never saw him again. I’m sure we were both relieved by that.”

  Their food arrived, and they settled into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable considering how little they knew each other. In fact, he didn’t know much about her at all, aside from maybe the most intimate of things.

  “You grew up here, right?” he asked, deciding to drop the subject of her virginity for a while.

  “Yes. My dad was an attorney here, then a judge. He’s a federal judge now, but this is his district. So I lived here until I went to college in Cheyenne.”

  “Do you ski? Bike?”

  She shrugged. “I ski, but it’s not really my thing. I like it once I get up on the hill and it’s so quiet. But you have to get through so many crowds and lines to get up to the quiet part. My first love is hiking. I can be alone. Clear my head. It’s peaceful.”

  Gabe felt his heart thump dangerously at her words, but mostly it was the faraway expression on her face. “I know you don’t climb. Are you into camping?”

  “Not really. My dad isn’t outdoorsy. I never really had anyone to go with.”

  “We could go sometime.”

  Her cheeks went immediately pink. Her gaze dipped to her plate. “Maybe.”

  “It�
��s a lot like hiking, except you don’t have to go back to the real world within a couple of hours. And we’ve got so many great secluded sites close by. There’s no reason to go to a campground, unless you like a lot of neighbors with generators and RVs. The key is to ask a ranger on your way into a park. They can point you to great flat sites that are near a creek or have a view.”

  “It sounds nice,” she said.

  “I’ve got a ton of gear. You want to try it? Separate tents, of course.”

  Her pink cheeks went red. She set down her fork. “Gabe, I meant it when I said you were sweet. You are. But you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I have great friends. I’m doing okay. You don’t need to take me in. I’ve just never had a real lover, that’s all.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you! Okay, I felt a little sorry for you today, because I knew you’d be hungover and maybe mortified—”

  “Maybe,” she scoffed.

  “But...can I be honest?” Her flat mouth told him what she thought of that question. “When I met you, I thought you were someone else. Some high-maintenance city girl who’d sneer at a pair of hiking boots unless they were Burberry.”

  “Really?” Her eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. “I passed as a high-maintenance Manhattan girl?”

  “Yes.” He gestured toward her plate. “Until you ordered an enchilada platter bigger than mine.”

  She growled, “Shut up. I needed it.”

  “I know you did. I’m just saying that you’re nothing like I thought you were. You’re funny and smart and down-to-earth. And I like the way you get shy sometimes.”

  “Oh.” She was blushing again.

  “And you’re beautiful, of course.”

  “You don’t have to say that, Gabe.”

  He drew his chin in in shock. “I’m not just saying that.”

  “I can pull off cute on a good day. That’s it.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  She nodded, then carefully chewed a bite of enchilada Suiza before setting her fork down again. “I’m not good at graciously accepting compliments. You can add that to your impressions of me.”