Burned(9)

I watch a dimple form on his cheek when he smiles back at me and, for some crazy reason, butterflies start rapidly beating in my stomach. I hold my breath as he picks up his bottle of beer and walks towards me.
His eyes never leave mine even as Phina says hello to him and he responds in kind. He doesn’t stop moving until he’s right in front of me and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He’s standing so close I can feel the heat from his body and, if I move just an inch, my breasts will be pressed up against that gorgeous chest hidden beneath cotton. He smells faintly of cologne and soap and it’s such a delicious scent that it turns my brain into complete mush.
I hear Phina and D.J. chatting behind us about what they’ve been up to over the years. I know it’s rude that I haven’t said a word to D.J. in greeting, but I just can’t bring myself to look away from Collin. His blue eyes stare into mine and his smile grows wider as he looks down at me.
“Lee.”
He whispers his nickname for me from back in the day and hearing it fall from his lips is like a straight shot of lust right between my legs.
I brace myself for the guilt to take over as I continue to smile back at him. I wait for my brain to remind me that I’m still technically married and that whatever this is I’m feeling is wrong. I wait for the remorse to come, but it never does. It’s been so long since a man looked at me like this and maybe I’m just so starved to feel something… anything other than numb that I don’t even care.
“Fuck, you look amazing,” he mutters.
Every inch of my body warms at his words and I ignore the little voice in the back of my head that is finally waking up, telling me this is a bad idea.
A really bad idea.

Chapter 4—Sparks Will Fly


“WE ARE TOO old for this f*cking bar. Everyone in this place is still in college,” I complain, tipping back my bottle of beer and finishing it off.
My best friend ignores me, staring at something over my shoulder. I wave my hand in front of his face. “Hey, *. Are you listening to me?”
“Holy f*ck, it’s Seraphina Giordano. Damn, her tits look amazing,” D.J. says with a sigh as he gets up from his stool. “I’m going over there. She let me get to second base in high school, maybe she’ll throw me a bone tonight.”
I glance up at the stars when he yells her name and send up a silent prayer that the poor guy doesn’t get punched in the face. Seventeen years since we’ve been out of high school and D.J. still has the mentality of a teenager when it comes to women. He’s been a loyal friend through the years though and when I told him after graduation that I was following my life-long dream of becoming a fireman, he shrugged his shoulders and said “Alright. Sounds like a plan. When do we leave?”
We went into the fire academy together and always made sure we were assigned to the same firehouses, even when it meant transferring out of state after the one we worked for shut down seven years ago due to budget cuts. When D.J. decided he wanted to advance his career a few years ago by becoming a paramedic, I helped him study and made sure the new addition to his profession was utilized wherever we worked. Since both of our families still live in the same houses we grew up in, when a Captain’s spot opened up the next city over from them, I came home and D.J. followed right behind me.
When D.J. suggested we go up to Slammers for a drink, it took a lot of cajoling from him to get me to agree. Slammers was our favorite bar when we were younger. We spent every weekend here hanging out with old friends and I spent most of that time staring at the front door waiting for her to walk in. After too many years spent thinking about the one that got away, D.J. finally put his foot down and told me I was being an idiot. What kind of guy still holds a torch for a girl he dated in high school? Someone he hasn’t seen or talked to in over seventeen years? I put her out of my mind once and for all when I left town.