by Angel Devlin
“I’m almost thirty.” Kay’s whining brings me out of my head. “I feel like time’s running out.”
“Well, it’s not. You still have time to find the man of your dreams and do things the way you always wanted. And don’t tell me you didn’t keep that piece of paper you wrote when you were fifteen about your ideal wedding because I know you. That shit is imprinted in your brain.”
“Yeah, well reality is making me think twice about all my romantic notions. And if I want more than one kid, then maybe I do need to consider the route of artificial insemination.” She looks at my face which no doubt is telling her I’m getting pissed off. I can feel my hackles rising.
“I’m not saying I’m definitely doing it. Just that I can’t rule it out anymore. It’s an option. I just wish you could pay a donor to come do it the natural way with romance and candlelight rather than how you describe it.”
“See. You need to find love and your family via the romantic way.”
She sighed. “Can’t you get someone to do it the hearts and flowers way?”
“Oh yeah.” I take my arm away from behind her neck and stand up, ready now to start ranting. “You can get some dickhead off the internet who’s not screened and they can come round and shag you the old fashioned way. Not likely to be romantic though is it if they turn up like tonight’s date and you have to put a peg on your nose so you can open your legs long enough for them to make their deposit, and then they know where you live and can come claim their parental rights and you have to see Smelly Daddy midweek and every other weekend to pass your kid over.”
“Okay, okay. I have time to do it the proper way. I’d better up my dating game instead to give me more of a chance.”
I sigh; a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’d better clear my calendar then, so I can come rescue you even more often.”
She looks up at me and grins. “I know I’m a pain in your arse, but you love me, and you’re stuck with me.”
I flop back down onto the sofa at the side of her.
“Yes, I do, and I will always come rescue you. I’ll just bring some Lynx next time to spray your date with.”
I fart again.
“That’s it.” Kay jumps up and I watch her baggy clothes flopping around her as she waves her hand in the direction of the door. “Out. Go home now, Aiden. You’re a smelly boy. I need freedom from smelly boys.”
I finish my beer and kiss her cheek as I head for the door.
“Love ya, Kay-bear. Don’t give up. Your knight in fragranced armour is out there somewhere.”
“Love ya, too. Now fuck off before you fart again.”
She closes the door on me and I laugh as I do indeed let one rip as I walk away.
My watch are in the mess room the next morning when the alarm rings and we spring into action.
“Office on Silver Street, AFA activated.” Jasper, our gaffer reads out.
Chances are it’s just a routine call when the AFA—the automatic fire alarm—goes off, but you can’t take that for granted. We attend every situation like it could be life or death, because sometimes it is. We see things in this job that can take you a long time to accept, things no one should ever see. If you sat with us in the mess room when we bantered black humour around the place you’d probably think we were wankers, but it’s how you learn to deal with the horror you see from the worst situations. My watch are family. We have to be. We share experiences and keep each other safe.
Sure enough the AFA has been set off by a toaster and once I’ve done the checks we’re ready to leave. But not before I’ve flirted with a few of the female office staff. Even the older guys on the crew with their bald heads and beer bellies are elevated to Sex God status when they dress in the firefighter uniform. It does sometimes piss me off that the women act like a male stripper just walked in, rather than someone trying to make sure they don’t burn to death, but it’s par for the course and sometimes I trade on that same firefighter appeal to get laid, so I can’t be too much of a hypocrite.
“Thanks for coming. I’m so sorry. I went to answer the phone and didn’t realise the crumpet got stuck in the toaster.” The blonde flicks her fringe out of her face and smiles at me like she’s Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. “I’ll have to be careful not to do it again.” She simpers. “Unless... you’d like to see me again?”
I stand up straight and look down at her, my face tense. “The callout to your burned crumpet cost the fire service in the region of two grand in running costs and man hours.”
Her face drains of colour.
“So, maybe next time you could be a bit more careful, hey? It can also potentially take us away from a major incident.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” I think blondie’s about to cry. Fuck.
“No worries. We get tons of calls for toasters. Just concentrate on you being the hot stuff hey?” I quip as I wink and leave the building.
The rest of the day passes without major incident and by six pm I’m eating my way through a packet of crumpets (the blonde made me hungry but not for her). I’ve not heard anything from Kay but given she’s a primary school teacher she’ll have been dealing with snotty noses and budding future friendships all day. I often wonder if it’s our friendship that put her on that career path, but I’ve never got up the guts to actually ask her in case she laughed in my face and said I was soppy. That wouldn’t do for my alpha arsehole image at all.
I send her a Snapchat of my face with a tiger head filter.
Hot stuff: (yep that’s my username, deal with it). How’s your day been? Any dates tonight you’ll need potentially rescuing from?
I see her open it and I get a message back.
KaylieH: Nope, you’re safe. The lovebirds are out so making the most of the peace and quiet. Probably cry into my supper later.
Hot stuff: You’re supposed to send a photo back with text, not just text. Do you know anything about the modern world at all?
KaylieH: photo of her holding her middle finger up at the screen. I’m a dinosaur. That’s my whole problem. I’m gonna go extinct before I find love.
Hot stuff: Holding up a Chinese takeaway leaflet. Get your arse around here. Let’s go through Tinder and also I want to check your dating profiles. Let’s get you a man. One who washes himself.
KaylieH: Photo with a big smiling face. Chinese! My favourite. On my way.
I laugh at her saying it’s her favourite food. I think I might know that given I’ve known the girl for twenty-four years.
It’s time to give her some lessons in love and the ways of a hot-blooded male. Time for your fire training Miss Hale. Let’s get some male libidos burning for you.
3
Kaylie
I knock on Aiden’s front door but it’s only out of courtesy as I then push the solid door open and let myself inside. It’s not happened yet but I know that one day I’m going to come walking in and find him in a compromising position.
I know he spends most of his free time either in the gym or in a woman and the latter is really something I don’t want to witness.
“In the kitchen,” he calls.
When I round the corner, I find tubs of takeaway food on the counter along with a large glass of wine waiting for me. I can’t help but think it looks like I’ve just barged in on him waiting for his date. Not that he dates. There’s even a fucking candle burning on the windowsill.
“Um… are you expecting company?”
“Yeah, and she’s just arrived.”
“This is for me?”
“It’s just a takeaway, Kay. It’s not like I opened the oven or anything.”
“Fair enough.” Slipping my coat off, I drop it over the back of a chair and reach out for the wine. I’ve had the day from hell, so this is most definitely welcome.
“Glad to see you dressed up for the occasion.”
“What?” I look down at my oversized jumper dress and leggings and shrug. “It’s cute.”
“Is it?”
“As if
you know anything about fashion.”
“I don’t claim to know anything. But what I do know is what turns a guy on and I can say without a doubt that a dress like that, that hides every single thing underneath, isn’t it.”
“Whatever,” I say, waving him off and taking a sip of my wine. “Oh, that’s good.”
“I should hope so, it’s your favourite.”
“What did I do to deserve this?”
“Just thought you needed cheering up. Plus, if we’re going to sex up your profile, I thought you might need some alcohol in your system.”
My forehead creases. “What exactly does ‘sexing up my profile’ mean? I’m not exposing myself for the whole world to see.”
“As much as that would be a sure fire way to get a guy’s interest, it’s not what I was suggesting.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“Let’s eat… and drink. Then we’ll have a look and see what we can do.”
“Where the hell do you put all that?” I ask Aiden when he’s cleared his plate of his original serving and his seconds.
“A machine this well-tuned needs good fuel, Kay-bear.”
“Please don’t use that name. You know I hate it.”
“Aw, but it’s so cute.”
“Yeah… just like my dress.”
He snorts, just about managing to keep the swig of beer he just had in his mouth.
“I’ve left my laptop in the living room. Go and log into your dating profile of choice and I’ll just clean this lot up and join you.”
Grabbing my wine, I get the hell out of the kitchen before he convinces me to help him. He’s got a way of making women do exactly as he wants, and sadly at times I’m not immune to his charms.
Resting back on his sofa with his laptop on my knees, I log in and go straight for my new matches. I’ve got two. One is a bald guy who looks to be at least fifty, although his profile states that he’s actually thirty-five.
“Nice fucking try, mate,” I mutter, taking another sip of wine, hoping it might make the next guy look a little better.
Clicking to the next one, my eyes widen slightly. He looks normal, which immediately makes me suspicious. He must be hiding something. Scanning through his information, nothing stands out to me as weird. Maybe I’ve found the one normal guy on this site.
Name: Tate Wright
Age: 32
Occupation: Librarian
“Li-fucking-brarian. Next,” Aiden says from his position looking over my shoulder.
“Fucking hell, judgemental much?”
“Oh come off it. He’ll be a right boring fuck.”
“Do you mean that figuratively or literally?”
“Uh… both.”
“He might spend his days reading romance novels to discover what women really want.”
“Oh yeah, because that’ll make him an expert on women.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah, like me.”
“Well, that’s it. My other match was an old guy claiming to be in his thirties. So other than this guy, I’m out of options.”
“That’s what I’m about to fix. Shift.”
I lift my legs and allow him to sit on his own sofa, before dropping them back to rest on his legs, leaving him nowhere to place the laptop. Groaning, he turns to balance it on the armrest.
“Jesus, Kay, could you sound anymore dull and desperate?”
“What? I was just trying to be honest.”
“Primary school teacher who loves kids and can’t wait to have a family of my own,” he mocks in a voice that I assume is meant to sound like me. “Only equally desperate douchebags are going to respond to this. No man wants to date a woman whose only interest is having a family.”
“But guys want kids too,” I argue.
“Yeah, but they also want to have some fun before the serious shit happens. So sell them the fun, show them what you’ve got to offer.” he makes a boobs gesture with his hands.
“I’m not showing them my tits, Aid.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you did, not yet anyway. Just tease. Show them you’ve got something worth meeting in person.”
“Jesus, you make it sound like I need to be some kind of stripper to get a decent date.”
“Hey now, I never made any promises about decent. Just hopefully sweeter smelling than the last one.”
I groan as memories from that disastrous night fill my mind. “I just want a good guy,” I fake cry and drop my head into the cushion.
“We’ll find you one, babes. Now plaster a smile on your face, we’re replacing all of these dull ass photos of yourself looking like the unsexiest woman on the planet.”
“I’m unsexy? Well, this night really is looking up.”
“No, of course not. Well, I don’t think so. You’re always hiding in these godawful clothes so I’m not really sure what’s beneath. You could be covered in scales as far as I know.”
“You’ve seen me in a swimming costume.” I frown at him, more pissed off about what he thinks than I should be.
“We were seven. A lot changes between then and adulthood.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I pull my legs off his in a huff.
“What are you waiting for?”
“What?” I snap. This whole thing was a stupid idea. I should just continue dating idiots and hope Mr Right suddenly appears, then die miserable and alone when he doesn’t show his face.
“Get up and get that fucking awful dress off.”
“No fucking chance am I getting naked in front of you.”
“Did I say anything about getting naked? No, I didn’t. You’re wearing something underneath it, right?”
“Yeah, but—” My words are cut off when he stands, reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt over his head.
My chin drops at the inches of toned and tanned skin he reveals.
“Careful, you’ll start drooling any moment.”
“Fuck off, it was just shock.”
“Suuuure it was. Your turn.”
“What, are we six? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”
“I hadn’t considered that but if you’re up for it then...” his hands drop to his waistband.
“No, no, no,” I say in a panic. I haven’t seen a naked man in… a very long time and I don’t intend on my next one being my best friend.
Gripping the bottom of my dress, I pull it up and over my head then drop it to the floor. My arms automatically wrap around my middle in an attempt to hide my belly that I hate even though it’s covered in a vest.
“See, that’s the problem.”
My eyes almost pop out of my head that Aiden’s about to tell me I look horrible. That’s not the kind of help I came here for tonight.
“Your lack of confidence. It’s a turn off. You need to be proud of who you are and what you’ve got.”
Walking over, he places his hands on my shoulders and pushes them back.
“Stand up straight. It’ll make you look more confident, plus it’ll…” he looks down at my breasts and his voice catches. “Um… it’ll make your tits look better. See, look in the mirror.” He points to the one hanging over the fireplace.
“Okay, so to attract a man I’ve got to walk about with my tits out. What else, oh wise one?”
He’s not really telling me anything I don’t know. I know my confidence has taken a huge knock. That came courtesy of my one and only long-term relationship. The day he left he seemed to take all of my self-esteem with him.
“Hair. You’ve got gorgeous thick hair.” Turning me, he pulls the band out that’s holding the mass of curls at the base of my neck and runs his fingers through it to give it some volume. “See, so much better and I haven’t really done anything. Now let’s get some pictures of you looking sexy and confident.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to me. My shoulders instantly slump again. “I hate having my photo taken.”
“I know. But it’s just you and me messing aro
und. Forget about the real reason.” He takes a few but without looking at them I know the smile on my face is fake. “You remember that night we went camping with my parents?”
“The night you told me ghost stories that haunted me for weeks to come? Yeah, I remember that pretty well. It’s one of the reasons I still can’t watch horror movies.”
“That was a good weekend.”
“It really was.” Aiden continues bringing up fun times from the past and together we laugh at the memories and the stupid shit we did as kids. Before I know it, I’ve drained my second glass of wine and I’m feeling pretty good.
“I think we’re done.”
“Done?” I’ve totally forgotten about the camera in his hands and the fact we’re both half dressed.
“Yeah, look.” He goes to step around the coffee table with his phone stretched out for me to see but after one too many beers, his foot gets caught on the corner and he comes flying towards me. My back hits the wall and he just about manages to catch himself by placing his hands either side of my head.
“Fuck.” Standing to full height, his deep blue eyes stare down into mine; his heaving, naked chest just noticeable. I’ve no idea if he does it on purpose but he closes the space between us, his chest brushing mine causing electric sparks to shoot off around my body.
Jesus, it’s been too long since I got laid.
“Aiden, what are you doing? You’re drunk.”
“Oh right, yeah. My head’s feeling pretty fuzzy right about now.”
“I think I’d better call a cab.”
“Yeah, erm, okay,” he mutters, standing back and allowing me space to grab my dress from the floor and pull it back on.
“Thanks for tonight.”
“If you leave your account logged in, I’ll upload the best of the photos for you. I’m sure you’ll be overwhelmed with matches.”
