Page 2 of AJ’s Fire

“You can’t possibly plan to keep running into burning buildings for the rest of your life, Jackson. We just worry. About your safety and your future. If they knew, Jackson, they would take advantage!”

“I know, Mom.” I couldn’t keep a defeatist tone out of my voice. No matter how many times I explained that my friends in Brooklyn weren’t like that, that they wouldn’t take advantage of me, Mom and Dad still worried. I pictured my best friend, AJ Gordon, and really, really wished I could make them understand what I knew down to my marrow, that the man would never do anything to hurt me. Instead of saying all that to my mom, I took the easy route and simply agreed with her. “I know you worry about someone taking advantage of me, Mom. And I appreciate that, I really do.”

“It would break my heart if some woman”—it was always a woman in my parents’ examples, but why wouldn’t it be?—“were to break your heart. It would break mine, sweetheart. It’s not even about the money, Jax. There are prenups for that.”

“Mom, Dad,” I implored, hoping my until-then-silent father might rescue me from our broken-record conversation. “I’m not seeing anyone; there’s no one I’m interested in. Can’t we save talk of prenups for, I don’t know, until after I’ve had a second date?”

My parents looked at each other in that way I knew communicated volumes. I sometimes felt like I’d never have that connection with a woman, but I did have it with my best friend, who also happened to be my partner at the firehouse, so I understood it.

“If you’re not dating anyone else, then what about Emily?” Mom tried for a casual tone, but it felt forced.

“You know she’s moving back from LA to head up the New York division of Wyecrest Entertainment,” my father contributed.

“We’re still in touch, Dad. Still friends. I know that.”

“I just thought …”

“We’re just friends, Dad. Is this about Wyecrest-Dorso Digital?”

“Yes,” my father stated.

“No!” my mother insisted.

My father was generally the practical one.

“You’re not seeing anyone. You and Emily have known each other for years. And if it helps us convince her father and uncle to collaborate on a digital division with us, what’s the harm in that? We need to think about the future of Dorso Electronics and the foundation. You need to think about those things, Jackson. Your mother and I would like to retire someday. You and Emily … It just makes sense.”

“Mom. Dad. The Wyecrests are professionals. Whether Ems and I are friends, or dating, they’re not going to be influenced by our relationship where your merger is concerned,” I said with conviction, but the way my parents were pushing, I wasn’t so sure. “Trust me on that. I’m not a corporate executive. I tried, remember? Running DE … that’s just never going to be who I am, and I wish you’d accept that.”

“We’ve accepted your job, son, but you can’t fight fires for the rest of your life,” my mother repeated, like she could make it true by repetition. “I mean, eventually …” I think my mom saw the hurt in my face at the tone she’d used on the word “job.” She dropped that sentence but not the sentiment as she continued. “I mean, it would make sense for you two to run the companies together.”

“Mom,” I tried for a third time.

“I don’t know why you can’t see it! You and Emily are perfect for each other. It’s just safer if you date in our social circle. It just is, dear. And of course, it makes sense for the companies as well, once the merger is finalized.”

I sighed, thinking about my practical yet caring parents. “I’m not … I don’t want to date, not Emily, not anyone. And I’m not going to do so as some publicity stunt for Dorso Electronics or as a part of some backdoor deal for the merger. So please just drop it. And if I do meet someone … You have to trust me. I know our name, and the money, make it a challenge, but if I meet the right person, if they’re really the right person, it shouldn’t matter, should it?”

“I know it shouldn’t, honey, and I really hope that’s the case, but that’s not the world we live in.” My mom couldn’t keep the sigh from her voice. That sigh held years of history about my life choices.

So if I occasionally think guys are hot, it continues to be something I keep to myself, something I fight to ignore even as I begin spending most of my time with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

Chapter One

AJ

Jackson was being weird, and I could pinpoint exactly when it started, at a New Year’s Eve party at our lieutenant’s house. We’d started the festivities at my brother’s brownstone, waiting for the babysitter before heading out. I hadn’t really wanted to go.

“A party? In the suburbs?” I may have whined from my perch, slouched on the couch between my older brother, Jamie, and his sister-in-law, Rose. Jackson was walking away from me, heading to the kitchen. “At Freeda’s?” I leaned over the couch to yell back at him. “You know it’s going to be fifty percent firefighters, fifty percent lesbians, and fifty percent suburban neighbors talking about the latest PTA meeting.”

“You might want to check your math there, man,” my brother muttered into his bottle of beer as Jax came up behind me, resting an arm on my shoulder and handing me another drink. I held my empty over my shoulder for him to take, tipping my head back to find his face right there.

“Yeah, Aje. Stick to running into burning buildings.” His eyes twinkled with mirth, and as close as he was, I could see a kaleidoscope of flecks in various colors in them. From that proximity, no one color seemed predominant; it was the laughter I was seeing more than anything. I loved when Jackson and I bantered, and the teasing was helping my cranky mood, but my “thank you” still sounded sarcastic as I passed my empty to him.

Rose laughed as she slapped my thigh and stood up. “Drink up and get your ass off that couch; we’re going!” She looked pointedly at me, narrowing her eyes and subtly nodding her head toward my brother. Her message came through loud and clear. Shut the fuck up and do this for Jamie.

I adjusted my attitude as we took the train to Yonkers, and by the time I walked into the party, I did so like Jackson and I had walked into a million rooms before, all confident swagger, announcing to the room in general that we were ready to party. Jackson and I were great at playing the game, each other's best wingman, keepers of a sacred bro code that we’d cultivated over the five years we’d known each other. We had a bit of a reputation—the Battalion Five Boys. We were ladies’ men, and that's the way we both liked it.

Evenings out with each other, drinking and having fun, nights in bed with willing partners, then always the next day, with Jax, either on the phone or back at the station, shooting the shit about stupid stuff or planning our next night out. After five years, it had become the best kind of routine, where I got to hang out all the time with my best friend, and I also got to get laid a fair amount, if I do say so myself.