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  “Speaking of crazy, where’s Lydia?”

  “Mom,” I say in warning. I don’t know why. Lydia is crazy. We all know it, so it’s not like I have some kind of defense.

  “Cut the crap, kid. The woman is nuts,” Dad says. His dark blond hair started graying years ago and is now a salt-and-pepper color. I’ve never seen a single gray hair on Mom’s head, though I know it’s not genetics that keeps it that way.

  “If I have a thing for crazy chicks, it’s your fault,” I say to him and hook my thumb Mom’s direction as I walk away. I love those two, but they’re like a vortex—they’ll suck you right in for hours if you let them. Weaving through the crowd, across the room toward the stage where Jack will receive his award, I resolve to find Lydia. Not that I really want to, but she’s going to annoy me well into tomorrow with her bullshit if I don’t pay some attention to her at this thing. She’s probably pissed that I ditched her earlier, but I had to piss. And fuck—I still haven’t done that. Shit. Maybe I should just find a plant and water the fucking thing . . .

  Melanie.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Melanie coming down the stairs with Royal at her side. Melanie’s blonde hair is in a curly updo that takes a lot of work and is fun as shit to fuck up in bed. Her makeup is perfect, and as screwed up as it is, I’m pretty sure I’d find anything about her perfect right now. It’s not like I’m hard up for sex. I can and do get it on the regular. That’s the part of my relationship with Lydia that isn’t totally jacked. If I were going through a dry spell, I might understand my reaction to Melanie. Yeah, she’s hot and she’s my type—crazy as fuck—but there’s something else there that she showed me. If she hadn’t stopped me, I would probably still be in that bathroom, but by now I’d be buried deep inside of her. I’d be that guy I never thought I’d be, and even if Lydia is a bitch, no woman deserves that.

  I kind of need to believe that you can be that guy even if you don’t want to be.

  Damn it. Melanie’s words play in my head again and again until I’m in a place where I can accept the situation. She’s the first woman to make me question things with Lydia. I’ve known we aren’t working for a long time, but I haven’t considered the possibility of anyone else until now. Before tonight, I figured I needed a break from women and that once our lease expired, we’d split up and I’d do me for a while before looking to see what’s out there. But now other shit is running through my head.

  Melanie and Royal find Mom and Dad at the bar, where Royal proceeds to introduce them. Mom reaches out and does that creepy thing where she starts touching people’s hair without permission. She’s got a huge smile on her face and is staring at Melanie like she’s a brand-new Barbie doll. I stand there so long that Bailey, my older sister, walks up and introduces herself to Melanie. They start talking about something and seem to be on a roll, with Mom and Royal jumping in here and there. Dad turns his back to the bar and finds me in the crowd. He smirks and gives me a thumbs up while mouthing, “She’s hot,” and hitching his thumb at Melanie. Fuck yeah, she’s hot. I’m glad the old man hasn’t lost his sight just yet. He’d have to be blind to not see how hot she is.

  “There you are.” Lydia’s perky voice washes over me like a cold shower. Melanie’s hot, but I’m here with Lydia, and she’s my girlfriend. My long-term, living-together girlfriend. Fuck. Lydia wraps her arms around my waist and slips under my arm where she snuggles into my side. I used to love how she hangs all over me all the time. When we first started dating, she would tell me she couldn’t get enough of me, and it felt awesome to have someone want to be around me that much.

  With a heavy sigh, I turn us away from Melanie and my family. She’s blending in so easily—like she’s always been a part of us—that I can’t help the jealousy that creeps up. They’re all just sucking her in the way they do, making her a part of the brood. She has no idea what’s coming and how clingy they can be. I need to put my dick on notice that Melanie is a friend and nothing more. If my family latches on the way they normally do, then she’s going to be around a lot.

  “There’s lots of people dancing,” Lydia says in a way that would sound absent and random if not for the fact that I know her so well. Everything that comes out of her mouth is fucking calculated. “It looks like fun.”

  “Sure does,” I say as though we haven’t had this conversation before.

  “If you love me, you’ll dance with me.”

  “If you love me, you’ll quit asking.”

  She pulls back and crosses her spray-tanned arms over her chest and pouts. Her dark brown hair is beautifully offset by her golden complexion and her dark brown eyes. Lydia’s hot. Even after all the time we’ve been together, I can’t deny that she’s a catch. Needy and a pain in my ass, with a serious lack of empathy, but still hot. I’m not a monk. I know a beautiful woman when I see one, but I never feel compelled to kiss them or talk to them. And I don’t fucking dance with them. Until now. Until Melanie. I have a girlfriend. I’m not that guy.

  “You’re an asshole,” Lydia finally says. She looks over my shoulder and, with a big smile and wave, she’s off toward the bar. I already know she’s caught sight of my parents and sisters. I don’t need to watch her and Melanie interact. I’d rather keep them in totally separate realms for as long as I can. Lydia exists in reality, and Melanie exists in some new, sick fantasy I’ve created. It’s impractical, but it’s all I can deal with right now.

  A firm hand claps on my shoulder with an iron grip. I turn to my left and find my younger brother, Hennessey, grinning at me. He tugs at the collar of his dress blues and starts talking to me about his date, some hot as hell Puerto Rican chick who’s spent half the night purring things to him in Spanish that he doesn’t really understand but doesn’t care to. She can apparently tie a cherry stem with her tongue and showed him that she can swallow an entire ice cube. I might have a thing for crazy chicks, but Hennessey always seems to find the sex goddesses. Every single chick he dates is like a master acrobat or something. Halfway through Hennessey’s story, our oldest brother, Jack, walks up. He’s the second in line behind Bailey, and I’m third, but there’s a five year difference between him and me. That and the stick up his ass make him look so much older than the rest of us. Not that he’s had an easy go in life, but still. The fucker could stand to lighten up once in a while.

  Jack signals behind us and walks toward the front of the room when an older man takes the stage and taps the microphone and tells a stupid joke about us not being able to hear him, which makes no sense. In a matter of moments, Hennessey and I are joined by not only our parents but Melanie, Royal, and Lydia, as well. Lydia hangs onto me as usual, and Royal elbows Hennessey as she catches him checking Melanie out.

  I try to ignore it. I really do. But it’s impossible. I catch the way his eyes travel down her curvy frame. He’s saying something to her. He’s only a few feet away so I should be able to hear every word, but I can’t seem to hear anything. All I can do is watch as he finds a reason to touch the beading at the top of her dress and flashes her a smile that makes me want to break his front teeth. She has her hands on her hips and shakes her head at him. She’s leading him on, something she really shouldn’t do. He’s a dick. He’ll just use her and then move on without a second thought. Plus, he has a date here, and she’s . . .

  Not mine.

  She’s not mine.

  She’s not even my concern.

  Or she shouldn’t be. But she is. I tell myself part of what’s pissing me off about Hennessey hitting on her is that she’s already tight with Royal, and Mom looks like she’s getting attached—something she does with ease—and once Melanie is sucked into the vortex it’s going to be a family war if H fucks her over. It’s happened before, so I’m partially justified in my worry.

  I seem to be forgetting myself and who I’m here with. I shouldn’t give a fuck if my brother is hitting on her. She’s hot, so I would be surprised if he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I like that it’s happening. Th
e group moves closer to the stage, taking me with them. I don’t really want to stand among them, smiling and honoring Jack while I’m forced to watch Hennessey hit on Melanie with absolutely zero shame.

  A woman who can’t be more than a few years older than Melanie joins us with an older woman in tow. I stand on the edge of the group and watch as Melanie introduces her mother and sister to everyone as we walk. Dad announces to everyone we pass that he needs to be closer because his boy is getting an award. Half the people don’t seem to care, and the other half just smile. Finally, the herd stops moving when we’re just a few people from the front. Now that we’re stopped, Mom, in all her creepiness, reaches out and touches Melanie’s mother’s and sister’s hair. They don’t seem to mind, though, and do the same back to her. She doesn’t mean any harm by it. She just really admires beautiful hair. Still, I feel like I need to explain for her.

  “She’s doing it again,” Lydia whispers and nods in my mother’s direction.

  Mom’s moved on to asking Melanie what she uses on her hair. I’m not bothering with the explanation, but rather I focus in on the notes of her voice. Gone is the sassy chick I met upstairs, and in her place is a subtle but excited woman who doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by my mother’s hair obsession. Melanie, her sister, and her mother all compliment Mom at the appropriate times, and it lights up Mom’s face in a way I don’t see often. She needs to hear shit like that from someone she doesn’t think is obligated to say it.

  “Well, I guess my jokes are kind of stale if even my own wife can’t be bothered to pretend to enjoy them,” the man on stage says. Melanie and her sister elbow their mother in unison, and the three of them turn to the stage to pay attention.

  Melanie’s mother’s face brightens as the man’s attention zeroes in on her. She responds to him in a friendly voice. “Oh, hush!”

  “You tell her, Daddy!” Melanie says loudly with her hands cupped around her mouth.

  “Gentlemen, I won’t take up too much more of your time, but the big mouth in front is available should you wish to take her off my hands.” The man on stage, who I now know is Melanie’s dad, shoots her a wink and then clears his throat.

  “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here to raise money for an organization that is very dear to my and my wife’s hearts. Heroes in Action is more than a charity. For some, it’s a lifeline. For others, it’s a stepping-stone. When my wife came to me with the idea for Heroes in Action, I knew that we had to do everything in our power to make it a reality. Through Kincaid Media’s partnership with the city of New York and countless other corporate sponsors, we’ve been able to raise a grand total of just above half a million dollars this year alone.”

  Kincaid Media sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I turn and catch Melanie’s eye. She’s watching me carefully but tries to cover it up with a silly smile that I can’t return. Her brows draw together as she turns away from me and focuses back on her dad. Hennessey leans into her and places his hand on the small of her back. The move grates on my nerves. I want to look away but can’t.

  “Well then,” Lydia says. She’s whisper-shouting into my ear, making it obvious she’s not trying to keep it between us. Over the top of her head, I see that Melanie’s attention is back on me. She looks down at Lydia and then turns away again quickly. God, I hope she can’t hear Lydia. “I guess Royal’s new friend left her silver spoon at home. Maybe she thinks it’s a novelty to slum it with the working class.”

  I lock my jaw to stop myself from saying something I won’t regret but will cause a huge fight. Lydia’s always had this love-hate affair with rich people. On one hand, she wants what they have, but on the other, she hates on them freely for having what she doesn’t.

  Melanie’s dad gestures for Jack to walk onto the stage. My brother, decked out in his dress blue uniform and white cap, looks so much like our father used to. He smiles politely but stands awkwardly as Mr. Kincaid continues his speech.

  “It’s my honor to introduce to you tonight’s In the Line of Bravery award recipient. This gentleman risked his life in an act of bravery that most could not imagine. And yet he and the some ten thousand uniformed men and women who serve and protect our great city run into the face of danger every single day without thought to their own safety. Tonight we honor Lieutenant Jack Hayes of Ladder Company Number One, serving the Lower East Side. Lieutenant Hayes is not only a sixth-generation member of the New York City Fire Department, but he’s also the seventeenth member of the Hayes family to wear the uniform. Lieutenant Hayes is receiving tonight’s award for showing exemplary skill in rescuing four women from a burning building and holding a door frame in place long enough for his fellow firefighters to exit safely at great risk to his own life. It is a small but important duty I have to present Lieutenant Hayes with this award for such heroism.”

  Lydia leans in and hisses, “That should be you.”

  She’s always saying shit like that, wanting to know why I’m not being promoted or up for an award. It used to make me feel like she believed I was capable of moving mountains and the rest of the world wasn’t giving me enough credit. Now it just feels manipulative and fucking disrespectful to Jack. Fuck her and her goddamn opinions. Jack spent weeks laid up with injuries he suffered while saving the lives of those four women. And me. He held that doorframe up for me.

  Applause erupts in the room, followed by hooting and hollering from our fellow firefighters. Everyone is excited to see Jack onstage, especially because of how awkward he is about the whole thing. I find myself smiling, proud of my brother and happy he’s getting the recognition. I chance a look at Melanie, for no reason other than because I can, and feel like I’ve suddenly been hit by a truck. Hennessey’s watching me with a tentative gaze. He narrows his eyes and gives me a chin nod as he slips an arm around Melanie’s shoulders and makes a perverted gesture with his tongue. It’s more than enough to remind me that I have no claim on her. And he’s overdue to have his ass kicked.

  “I was just doing my job,” Jack says. I slip out of Lydia’s arms and keep her at bay long enough to hear the rest of the acceptance speech he manages to give.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Someplace you’re not,” I snap. When Jack’s done and has thanked Mr. Kincaid, I excuse myself immediately and weave through the throngs of people to get to the staircase. Upstairs, I walk into the men’s room, where I just stand in silence for a few minutes, trying to control my breathing while I stare at the tiled floor beneath my feet.

  Chapter 4

  Jameson

  Two months later

  “How many times we gotta go over this?” I shout and grab the fistful of candy wrappers from the floor between the seats in the truck and throw them out onto the ground behind me. “Keep shit clean or you’re going to get written the fuck up!”

  I’ll admit that I’m in a bad mood—have been for days—but this shit is ridiculous. Chief’s been over this with the guys more times than I can count. Assholes toss everything from candy wrappers to soda bottles around the truck and never fucking clean it when their shift is over. It’s not only rude but it’s goddamn dangerous. The last time I took her out to get gas, a fucking empty plastic bottle ended up beneath the brake. I was able to crush the bottle beneath the brake and drove without issue, but that’s not the point. We’re supposed to be first responders, and part of that means being safe.

  “Wow,” Jack says from behind me. There’s a note of humor in his deep voice. “What crawled up your ass?”

  His casual attitude rubs me the wrong way and sends my temper into overdrive. He sure as fuck wouldn’t have that attitude if his kid were riding around in a vehicle with hazards all over the floor. Prick. Grabbing a stray fast food bag from under the driver’s seat, I push myself out of the truck so quickly that I almost lose my footing as I land on the pavement.

  Jack stands at nearly the same height as I do—a few inches above six feet—and his light brown hair is starting to gray in plac
es mine has yet to. He stands proud, feet shoulder-width apart and his arms folded over his chest. I could hit him right now if he weren’t my lieutenant. He smirks and looks so much like our father that I reconsider clocking the smug bastard.

  “As one of our lieutenants, you’re supposed to lead by fucking example,” I shout and mimic his stance, tossing the trash in my hand on the ground. “I know the fucking diet ginger ale bottle is yours. Nobody else drinks that shit.”

  “You tellin’ me how to do my job?” He doesn’t sound so amused now. Good. His smile and lazy attitude were making me feel more than a little violent.

  “Somebody has to,” I snap. “I’m tired of picking up after everybody all the goddamn time.”

  A few people pause along their way past the firehouse and check their phones and tie their shoes. Nosy fuckers are all just waiting around to see if one of us is going to throw a punch so they can put it on the internet. I learned my lesson after that stupid charity basketball game went wrong. In my defense, that pussy detective in the Thirty-first started it.

  I take a few deep breaths and try to center myself. I don’t have much of a temper—at least not compared to the rest of the Hayes men. I’m the calm one. Or, I used to be.

  “Hey, assholes,” Hennessey shouts from the open garage bay. He’s got on a short-sleeved FDNY shirt that’s about two sizes two small and shows off his muscles and tattoos. Jack’s a prick, but Hennessey is a fucking bastard.

  I don’t really hate my brothers.

  I promise.

  “What?” Jack and I turn and shout in unison. We sound so much alike that it catches us both off guard. Hennessey grins because he knows that shit bugs us. It has since we were kids.

  “Chief wants us in the conference room.”

  He turns around and walks between the engine and ambo and then pauses.

  “And, uh, you two jerk offs might want to stop sizing up your dicks. Half of Little Italy is watching.” Hennessey heads to the back of the garage and darts up the stairs.