Things You Save in a Fire - Katherine Center Page 0,53

up using his shoulder for a pillow.” Technically, you could probably argue that we’d snuggled.

“And now you’re going on a date,” Josie said.

I put my hands over my eyes. “Let’s not call it ‘a date.’ Let’s call it ‘a coworker assisting another coworker with a family issue.’”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Josie said, and then they slapped a high five.

I pressed my head into a sofa pillow. “I think I just ruined my life,” I said, all muffled.

“It can’t be as terrible as all that,” Diana said.

I sat up. “If the guys in the house find out about this, it will be the end of everything.”

“I think it’s very kind of you to help out your friend,” Diana said. “He can’t help it that he’s so dreamy. That’s not his fault.”

I shook my head. “What was I thinking?”

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Josie said. “Who cares who you like?”

“It’s breaking the rules. As a girl, you’ve got two choices. You’re either a virgin or a whore. And guess what sleeping with guys you work with makes you?”

They refused to answer that on principle.

“Not a virgin,” I finally said.

“Why does it have to be one or the other? Why can’t you just be a normal, complex human being?”

“Irrelevant. Those are the rules.”

“But you’re not sleeping with him,” Josie protested.

“But I want to!” I said. And then I slapped my hand over my mouth.

They stared at me. I stared at them.

Then I whispered, “Did I just say that out loud?”

“Who wouldn’t want to sleep with him?” Diana demanded. “He’s like human candy.”

Josie nodded and we all took another gander at his photo on my phone. “Irresistible.”

The way we were joking around about this was comforting in a way. We kept things light. We didn’t talk about the real risk that I was taking to do this—or why, knowing everything I knew, I would have even considered saying yes in the first place.

Something to ponder.

Going to this party could very well cost me my job. And yet I’d agreed to go.

That “yes” had just burbled up out of me.

Why? I’d stayed up half the night on that roof, wrestling with that question. The rookie thanked me at least twenty times before he fell asleep, and promised that no one would ever find out. Ever.

But I knew better. The fire department wasn’t a job, it was a small town. Everybody found out everything eventually.

It’s possible, deep down, there was some self-sabotage involved—some unexamined belief that I didn’t deserve to be happy. Or maybe I was looking for a reason to fail.

Or maybe I just really, really liked the rookie. Legitimately.

The more I overthought it, the more the answer seemed frustratingly simple. Why had I agreed to go? Because I wanted to.

I just wanted to.

I knew the risks. But part of me truly didn’t care. Part of me really, really longed to be near him. At any cost. Apparently.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Diana said, refusing to let me beat myself up. “Sometimes we meet people we just click with. That’s a good thing. That’s a gift from the universe.”

“Unless it gets you fired.”

“It’s not going to get you fired.”

“I’m serious,” I said. “I already have one strike against me in Austin. I can’t be playing around.”

As soon as Diana tilted her head and said, “You do?” I remembered I hadn’t told her.

I took a breath. “I had an interpersonal conflict,” I said.

She decided not to pursue it. This was the first time I’d come to crochet club, and I suspected she didn’t want to scare me off. “Well,” she said, staunchly taking my side, “this is the opposite of an interpersonal conflict.”

“Not sure the fire department will see it that way,” I said.

“We’ll just have to make sure you don’t get caught,” Josie said.

“Easy,” Diana said then. “Just wear your hair down and clothes that are not your usual style.”

What was my usual style? Work pants. Work shirt. Work boots.

“What’s the dress for the party?” Josie asked.

I shrugged. “Fancy? Ish?”

Diana looked me over. “Do you have anything fancy?”

I shook my head.

“Do you even own a dress?”

I shook my head again.

“I’ve got dresses,” Josie said then, raising her eyebrows at me. “I’ve got a whole closet full—going to waste.” She patted her belly.

Next thing I knew, the crochet was abandoned, and we were making our way next door and then upstairs to Josie’s closet—both of us helping Diana with pavement cracks and stairs to move things along. Then I was standing