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"What the hell do you have to do around here to get seen by a doctor?" he grumbled. He shifted for the millionth time in the hard vinyl chair as if that might somehow make it more comfortable. "Everyone looks sickly. We're both going to catch something sitting here. They should have a separate room for people with non-contagious injuries."

  I looked over at him. "Maybe we could get you a plexi-glass cubicle to sit in."

  He laughed. At least his sense of humor wasn't broken. Otherwise, just sitting through this with the guy made me wonder how the hell he had chosen smokejumping. "Hey, Bucky, just curious—what made you choose this line of work? If you don't mind me saying so, just doesn't seem like your thing."

  Bucky relaxed back. The triage nurse had given him an ice pack once she'd determined that his injury was not life threatening. "I'd done the whole firefighting training as a teen and young adult. Did some ambulance and medic stuff but—" He hesitated.

  "But what?" I asked.

  "All right, I'm going to say this, but you can't tell Kaos or King. I always pegged you as the nicer guy, and those two would probably broadcast the whole thing." He slumped down some in the chair. He was young, not more than twenty-three, and he still had those baby fat cheeks that sometimes stuck around long into adulthood. Something told me Bucky's were there to stay. "Not that it matters now because I'm out, and I'm not going to see any of those people again. But I joined up because there was this girl—"

  "Ah, yes the whole trying to impress a girl motive. That is more common than you think. Is she your girlfriend?"

  "She won't be now. She only said yes to our first date because I told her I signed up to be a smokejumper. She thought it was cool and heroic. Now she'll dump me for sure." He looked genuinely heartbroken. And no one knew what that looked like more than me. I saw it every time I looked in the mirror and thought about Layla.

  "You don't know that. Maybe she'll think this broken arm thing is cool, and she'll want to take care of you. If you're real lucky, you might be leaving here with some of those gnarly big pins going through your wrist." I might have gone one step too far in my pep talk. I forgot who I was talking to. "Lean over and put your head between your knees. You look like you're going to faint."

  Bucky doubled over and put his face between his knees. I patted his back. "I'm probably wrong about the pins," I told him. "I'm no doctor."

  "Bucky Ivans," a hospital attendant called.

  Bucky was still working on getting oxygen back to his head. I tapped his shoulder. "Uh, hey buddy, that's you." I waved to the attendant. "We're coming."

  Bucky straightened. The color had returned to his face. He stood up, but there was a waver in his walk. I was hoping to leave him on his own, but he looked unsteady and scared. I shouldn't have mentioned the pins.

  I caught up to him. "I'll make sure you get into a room all right."

  "Thanks, Bronx. See, I knew you were the nice one."

  "Yeah, well you know what they say about nice guys," I muttered more to myself than to him.

  We got into one of the exam rooms. "The nurse will be in to check your vitals. Sorry for the wait. We've been swamped," the attendant said and closed the curtain around the small space. Bucky sat on the exam table, and I sat in the side chair. My phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a text from King.

  "Hey, you won the money. Weston made it in ten flat. He's fast. I think he'll make a great member of the team. How is my loser of a bet? Still can't believe the guy broke his arm just walking."

  I texted back. "I agree about Weston. We're still waiting for him to be looked at by the doctor. I'm going to take off soon. Are we still on for beers tonight?" The curtains rolled open as I sent the text.

  "Hello, Mr. Ivans, I see you hurt your arm."

  Her voice sent instant shockwaves through me. I lifted my face. She glanced my direction, fleetingly, at first, then she gazed at me, her lips parted in surprise. "Jack," she said on a stunned breath. She instantly snapped into her professional mode and turned a sympathetic smile to Bucky. It gave me a chance to catch my breath.

  Layla gently took hold of Bucky's fingers and examined his arm. "I'm sure the doctor will be ordering some x-rays." She looked over at me again. "Since you're both wearing Western Smokejumper t-shirts, I assume this had to do with training?" She tossed the question my direction, but Bucky, who was already looking starry eyed with love, answered.

  "I'm in training to be a smokejumper. It's a cool gig. Dangerous but you know, it's an important job." He forgot to mention the small inconvenient fact that he'd basically failed the training with his broken arm, although Layla already knew that. Bucky had no way of knowing that though.

  "Wow, that does sound dangerous," Layla said sweetly. "Well, let's take some vitals and then the doctor will come in and confirm the x-ray."

  Layla set to work taking Bucky's vitals. I'd finally gathered my wits. This whole visit to the ER had turned out to be the highlight of the day.

  "I didn't know you were working in ER," I said.

  "They were shorthanded and I needed the money, so I volunteered for a few shifts." She placed the stethoscope in her ears.

  "Do you know her?" Bucky whispered.

  "Please hold still," Layla advised as she leaned over to listen for his blood pressure. Somehow, she managed to make nurse clothes and a stethoscope incredibly hot. A short erotic daydream of us playing doctor and patient rolled through my head. I shook it free before it landed me with a hard-on. In the few months since Layla and I had unceremoniously decided that it wouldn't be right for the two of us to date, I'd gone out on four dates. All first dates. After meeting Layla, I'd set the bar impossibly high. I wasn't sure I'd ever meet someone like her again. In fact, I was sure I wouldn't. It seemed my best bet was just to fall back on my earlier dating years where the main goal was to get laid and everything else was just the inconvenient part of dating. My shallow eighteen and nineteen-year-old self had a fucking good time, and there had been no sticky commitment or relationship issues. Shit, what a momentous dick I was in my late teens.

  Layla pulled the stethoscope from her ears. God, her ears were perfection. How was someone made so perfectly? Everything I ever felt about her was coming back in a rush of feelings right there in that cold, sterile exam room with Bucky and his broken arm and whiny brow looking on.

  A young male doctor walked in. He had that haughty, disaffected look that so many doctors wore as they dashed from room to room in their white coats. He was one of those well-groomed guys with a straight nose and dark hair. I supposed he was someone women would find attractive, especially with the MD behind his name.

  He smiled graciously at Layla, and she smiled back. Suddenly, I was jealous as fuck of Mr. Dark Haired MD. Did they know each other well? How many times a day did some dickhead doctor smile at her?

  Dr. Hoffman, as he'd introduced himself to Bucky, glanced for all of two seconds at the arm. "Nurse Rafferty, please let an orderly know they need to get Mr. Ivans to the x-ray room. I'll send the orders down." Layla left the room. She didn't even spare me a glance. Was she worried the doc would see?

  Hoffman turned his attention back to Bucky. "Did you fall on it? It looks like the kind of injury we see when someone has been thrown from a mountain bike or horse where they took the full brunt of the fall in their wrist."

  Bucky nodded. "I fell and there was a hundred pound pack on my back, so that sort of fell with me."

  Dr. Hoffman, Mr. Fucking Smiley, acknowledged my presence for the first time. He looked pointedly at the logo on my shirt. "Training for the fire service?" he asked.

  "Yep," I said curtly.

  "Right, well we'll get you all taken care of, Mr. Ivans." He looked at me. "You can wait for him in the waiting room."

  "Yeah, thanks."

  Doctor Hofmann left the room.

  "Why are they all assholes?" Bucky asked quietly.

  "Not all of them but that guy looked as if he spends more time in front of a mirror than in front of his patients," I
said.

  Bucky laughed. "I was thinking the same thing. Hey, listen, Bronx, you can take off. I texted my mom and dad. They're on their way. Thanks for staying with me."

  As badly as I wanted to leave earlier, now I was reluctant to go. What if I didn't see her again? What if this was our last chance encounter. I'd told myself we made the right choice a million times, but it had never felt right to me. I never stopped thinking about Layla. She was always there, in the back of my mind. Unfortunately, I had no excuse to stay.

  I patted Bucky on the shoulder. "Sorry things turned out this way, but maybe next year."

  "Or maybe I just need to find a different girlfriend. One who isn't obsessed with smokejumpers."

  "Oh, well, we're definitely worth the obsession," I said with a laugh. "Take care of that arm."

  "Thanks again."

  I pushed past the curtain and surveyed the area. No sign of Layla. I walked toward the exit with heavy feet and a heavy heart. As I passed a short hallway with the elevators, I caught a glimpse of her getting onto the elevator. There was no time to change my mind, I raced to the elevator and caught the edge of the closing door with my hand. I pulled it open and stepped inside.

  We were alone. Not one word was exchanged. My thoughts and actions were no longer being controlled by my conscience. "Fuck it," I muttered as I pulled Layla into my arms and kissed her. It wasn't the long, deep kiss I'd dreamt of a million times. It was enough to make my entire body ache with wanting her. She tasted and felt just how I'd imagined. Sweet and delicious. My cock pressed against her. She wriggled teasingly against it and sighed seductively against my mouth.

  The loud, obnoxious ding of the elevator pulled us from the kiss. She was staring up at me with those cocoa brown eyes. Voices outside the door caused her to step back out of my arms. Our gazes stuck together as if magnetized until she drew hers away and stepped out of the door. She never looked back as she turned the corner and out of view.

  "Are you getting out?" an orderly asked as he held the door.

  I shook my head and stepped to the back of the elevator to let others in. What the fuck had I just done? That same question followed me out of the hospital and all the way home.

  15

  I was definitely not myself when I met Kingston for beers at the local bar. He was playing a game of pool when I walked inside. It seemed he'd already become chummy with two women. They were cheering him on as he showed off his skills.

  "Bronx, there you are. Join us." He lifted a beer. "Already got your beer. Used your winnings though, so technically, you bought me my beer. By the way, this is Anna." He pointed to a woman with wavy red hair and skin tight jeans. "And this is Bonnie." He motioned toward the blonde with the short skirt. "They are from Boston and are visiting friends. Girls, this is Jack but we call him Bronx."

  Anna strolled straight over. I couldn't think of a worse night to meet a new woman. My head had been spinning from the kiss in the elevator. Layla had walked off without a word. I was telling myself it could have been worse, she could have hauled off and slapped me. Or would that have been worse? At least then I could assure myself that I stirred some kind of emotion in her, even if it was anger.

  "I hear you're one of those parachuting firefighters too. King's been telling us all about the job. Sounds exciting and dangerous." She was already calling him King as if they'd been best friends for years.

  "Yeah, it's also smoky and hot," I said, and tried to move past her.

  She stuck close by. "Like me, you mean?" she giggled, and it wasn't a good one.

  "Excuse me?" I asked. We were no longer talking in a linear pattern.

  "I mean hot and smoky like me?" She laughed again. "Just kidding."

  Kingston tapped the table with his pool cue. "Anna, it's your turn."

  "Oops, gotta go. I'm not very good at this game, but Bonnie has played a lot with her brothers." She sashayed away. Kingston handed her the pool cue and came around the table to where I was standing.

  "How was that knucklehead? That'll teach me to put money on a guy named Bucky."

  I'd nearly forgotten my reason for being at the hospital in the first place. That damn kiss had left me dazed. "His arm was broken for sure. Not sure if it was going to need surgery, but he called his parents so I left. Felt kind of bad for the guy."

  "Uh huh." Kingston was temporarily distracted by Bonnie, who made a point of leaning way over the table in her short skirt. She made the shot and did a little hip wiggle dance. "Yep, I like the game of pool." He turned back to me. "Why do you look so grumpy?"

  "I'm not grumpy."

  "No? Then join the three of us. We'll play pool, get drunk and see where the night leads. They're cute, don't you think?"

  "Not really in the mood for pool or drinking or Anna and Bonnie tonight. I think I'll just finish this beer and head home."

  Kingston put on what I liked to refer to as his angry toddler face. "Damn it, Bronx. I was hoping to get cozy with Bonnie. What the hell am I going to do with two women?" An idea, a dirty idea seemed to pop into his equally dirty mind. A smile washed away the angry toddler face. "Hell, do you think they'd do a threesome?"

  "King, I need help with this shot. Can you come here and show me how I should hold this long stick?" Anna asked with a bat of her lashes.

  Kingston turned back to me with round eyes.

  I clapped him on the shoulder. "Think you might just get your wish tonight, big guy. In the meantime—" I dropped back the rest of the beer. "I'm heading home to watch some stupid ass thing on Netflix until I fall asleep. Anna, Bonnie, nice meeting you." I waved.

  Anna pouted. "You're not leaving yet, are you? We were just starting to have fun."

  "Yep, got to head out. I'm sure King can keep you entertained." I winked at my friend and walked out.

  I stepped into the crisp fall air. It was a nice reduction in temperature after the hot, dry afternoon on the running trail. The fresh air, complete with a sort of earthy, dry leaf smelling breeze helped clear my head. It had happened. I'd kissed Layla, and that was that. It was only a fucking kiss. Apparently it wasn't all that spectacular since she didn't say a word. I'd broken our pact, and she was obviously irritated.

  I replayed the few seconds in the elevator over and over in my head until I reached my street. "Enough," I told myself. "You're an idiot. Get over it." With my street being mostly quiet and deserted, it didn't take long to notice the car parked out front. It was Layla's Toyota.

  I lifted my foot off the pedal and coasted slowly down the road. I had no doubt she was there to tear into me for kissing her. It was an asshole move, with everything that we'd agreed on. I put my foot down on the pedal. I worked on my apology as I pulled into the driveway.

  Layla was bundled in a light coat and scarf. She hugged her knees as she sat on the front steps. Slivers of moonlight highlighted her beautiful face. I didn't see the scorn or anger I expected. It was hard to tell exactly what emotion she was feeling from the soft expression she wore.

  I climbed out of the car, my sincerest attempt at an apology on my lips. "Layla—" I started.

  She stood up from the stoop and walked down the last two steps to join me.

  "Layla, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over—"

  Her hand reached up and curled around my neck as she pressed her body against mine and kissed me. My tongue dragged along her bottom lip coaxing her mouth to open wider. The kiss had triggered every nerve in my body. My pulse raced and everything around us, the landscape, the brisk breeze, the quiet neighborhood disappeared, and it was just the two of us, our bodies pressed together as one and our mouths hungrily devouring each other. A car honked somewhere in the distance, momentarily erasing the solitude.

  I took Layla's hand and led her up the steps to the front door. With every ounce of my energy and control now firmly in my cock, I struggled to open the door. Once the key turned, I kicked it open and pulled her inside and back into my arms.

  We paused just a second, our breaths coming in shor
t, hot spurts and both of us flush with desire. We gazed into each other's eyes. We were both questioning the whole thing. There would be regrets . . . maybe, but the hot tension between us kept us glued to each other. There was only one way this would end, and we both knew it.

  "I want this, Jack," she said on a breathy whisper. The sound of it floated down and took hold of my erection, causing my cock to throb with need. I slid the coat off her shoulders. She pushed at the hem of my shirt. I yanked it off. At first it was a slow, methodical striptease, but once were both half naked, the rest of the clothes came off in seconds.

  I swept her into my arms and carried her into the bedroom. She was light and supple and hot in my arms. I was reluctant to lower her onto the bed.

  "This is exactly how I imagined you'd feel in my arms," I said.

  "Funny," she said with a coy smile. "This is exactly how I imagined it would feel, naked and in your arms."

  She shrieked with delight as I tossed her playfully onto my bed. I lowered myself over her and kissed her mouth again before moving onto her neck and shoulder. She lifted her breasts higher, inviting me to move my lips along. I obliged. My tongue swirled around each nipple ending each lick with a tiny bite. She moaned in pleasure and wrapped her fingers through my hair to hold my mouth harder against her. I slid my hand down between her legs and couldn't hold back a groan when my fingers found the wet heat between her legs. She wanted me. I'd been wanting her forever, and now she was here, underneath me, hot with desire.

  She dropped her smooth thighs open so I could explore every inch of her pussy. She rocked against my hand as my thumb strummed gently over her clit.

  "Jack," she whispered.

  I gazed up at her over her luscious breasts. "Say it again." My voice was hoarse and low. I was in a near trance brought on by knowing that I had Layla beneath me, naked and ready. "Say my name again."

  "Jack," it came out on a long, warm breath.

  I dipped my fingers inside of her. She grabbed my hair, pulling it between her long fingers. I kissed her breasts goodbye. She released me and I slid down to the end of the bed to settle myself snuggly between her thighs. Her sweet scent filled my senses as my mouth explored the hot folds of her pussy. Her legs squeezed around me as she worked hard to pull my mouth harder against her. My tongue stroked her clit as my fingers slid into her.