6. Maya
Chapter six
Maya
J ake said the chief wanted to see me. The news, delivered before I’d even tucked my jacket into my locker, filled the pit in my stomach with dread. Surely, he’s noticed my distraction over the past few days, my irritation. Which is unacceptable. My performance shouldn’t suffer because a certain burly redhead has been doing everything in his power to avoid me ever since the almost-kiss at the elementary school.
But it has. Damn him.
The steady thud of my work boots on the stairs echoes my apprehension as I approach the chief’s office. My fingers curl into fists when I recall the way Mack volunteered for truck maintenance instead of joining our usual coffee run to the deli around the corner. Or how he switched places with Brock during hose drills, supposedly because his reach would ‘be better for the high angle spray.’ And yesterday afternoon, during equipment check, he kept his head buried in the supply cabinet inventory rather than engage in our usual banter, though he’d been full of witty comebacks with the guys at lunch.
And the worst part is, I actually miss his infectious grin directed my way.
My pace stalls on the last few steps as voices drift through the partially open door of Chief’s office.
“With all due respect, sir, I’d prefer if you sent someone else with me.” Mack’s deep voice carries clearly, and my stomach clenches. “Maybe, Jake or—”
“Thorne is fully qualified for inspections,” Chief cuts in, his tone clipped. “Are you suggesting otherwise?”
“No, sir, of course not. It’s just—”
“Then I expect you to treat her with the same respect you’d show any other firefighter under my command.” A chair creaks. “Belmont’s new elevator installation needs to be certified for operation, and unless you have a specific concern about her competency…”
My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. Years of prep, six months of training, three stations, countless certifications, and I’m still fighting this battle. The same one that had me transferring here in the first place. But somehow, this hurts worse, coming from Mack, the man who’s treated me like one of the guys. The man who complimented my quick thinking when I spotted the gas leak during the kitchen fire call yesterday. Mack, whose steady presence at my back during drills made me feel invincible instead of defensive for the first time in my career.
“No concerns, sir.” Mack’s voice is strained. “She’s more than qualified.”
That’s it. I’m done being talked about as if I’m not even here. I push open the door, satisfaction coursing through me at how Mack’s shoulders stiffen when he spots me. His throat works as he swallows hard, and I catch a flash of something that looks like guilt in those striking green eyes before he glances off.
“You asked to see me, sir?”
Chief’s expression gives away nothing. “Perfect timing, Thorne. You and Mack are heading to The Belmont to inspect their newly installed elevator. They’ve modernized the historic shaft with a new commercial-grade system that needs certification before it can open to residents.”
“Yes, sir.” I keep my tone professional even as anger simmers beneath my skin. My irritation’s been building for days as Mack’s maintained distance between us. No more playful nicknames, no more casual touches sending electricity dancing across my skin. Just polite nods and redirected gazes. Well, two can play this game.
The walk to the historic building is silent and tense, the humidity making my shirt stick uncomfortably to my skin. Or maybe, that’s just the fury still radiating off me in waves. Mack, carrying the department tablet, keeps shooting me sidelong glances, but I deliberately keep my gaze forward, my chin high. The city streets are busy with the usual mix of tourists, consulting their phones, and locals speed-walking with coffee cups in hand, while yellow cabs honk their way through the congestion.
While we’re waiting for the walk signal at Eighty-Sixth Street, from out of nowhere a businessman slams into my shoulder. The impact sends me stumbling toward the street as a delivery truck rumbles by. Before I can catch my balance, Mack’s powerful hands grip my waist, yanking me back, all the way to his wall of a chest. The tablet tumbles to the sidewalk forgotten as Mack’s body envelops me, his arms bracketing my small frame. And despite my anger, my traitorous pulse skips. The spicy scent of his cologne fills my nose, and for a moment, I’m transported back to that school demonstration, his body solid beneath my hands.
The man who hit me is a flash of gray tailored suit as he murmurs an apology and disappears into the crowd crossing the street as the light changes. But I barely give him a thought because Mack’s breath is stirring the loose strands of hair at my temple.
“You okay?” he murmurs, the low tone filled with concern.
I jerk away, ignoring how my skin tingles where his palms pressed flat against my back.
“Fine,” I insist, smoothing my ponytail, clearing my throat, and not meeting his eyes.
With a sigh, he bends to snatch up the tablet, the rough motion betraying his distress. Thankfully, it’s unscathed, thanks to its protective silicone case. I’d hate to turn around, since we’re almost to our destination. Because, if I thought the silence was tense before, it’s downright explosive now. As if the smallest spark could ignite the inferno smoldering beneath the surface.
The Belmont towers above us, eighteen stories of Art deco grandeur with its distinctive stepped facade and decorative metalwork catching the afternoon sun. The lobby’s original marble floors and brass fixtures speak to old New York money as we step inside.
A gray-haired super shuffles forward and greets Mack like an old friend, his weathered face creasing with a warm smile. “Mack! Here to check out our fancy new elevator, eh?”
“Hey, Joe,” Mack says warmly as they shake. “Good to see you, as always. And yeah, we’re here to get you up and running, right?”
“No doubt.”
“This is Maya,” Mack adds, gesturing to me. “The newest member of Ladder 24.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood.” Joe’s dark eyes twinkle as he glances from Mack to me and back. Then, before I know it, Joe leans toward me as if whispering a secret. “Met Smokey yet, have you?”
“Smokey?” I ask, my brows coming together.
“Joe, she—” Mack starts, but Joe ignores him.
“Mack here has a soft spot for little ones, you know. He found a half-frozen kitten around back here last winter and took it home, he did. Named it Smokey, if you can believe it.”
“We should get started,” Mack interrupts, louder this time as he spins to head for the elevator bank.
“It was nice to meet you,” I tell Joe, offering an apologetic shrug of my shoulder. He winks at me as I turn to follow Mack, rushing to catch up, thanks to his ground-eating stride across the lobby.
Inside the shiny new elevator, Mack inserts his firefighter’s key into the control panel and flips open the tablet. The doors slide shut with a soft whoosh, sealing us inside. My anger, temporarily forgotten during the introduction, resurges as I take in the gleaming control panel, the potent smell of metal and lubricant, and the way Mack’s acting as if I’m not here to help.
I wait until we’re halfway up, studiously ignoring how his presence fills more space than his physical body takes up, before I slap the Emergency Stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt.
“What the hell?” Mack turns to me with his green eyes wide.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” I plant my feet, crossing my arms.
“What?”
“I heard you in Chief’s office.” My voice rises, despite my effort to keep it steady. A bead of sweat trails down my spine, but I refuse to back down. “First, you’ve been avoiding me for days, and then you try to get out of working with me? If you don’t think I’m capable—”
“Capable?” He barks out a laugh that holds zero humor. “Christ, Maya, you’re nothing but capable. That kitchen fire yesterday? The way you spotted that gas leak before any of us? You probably saved half the block.”
“Then why—”
“Because,” he snaps, as if it’s a complete response.
“What are you, like five? Because is not an answer. Tell me the truth.”
“Because I can’t think straight when I’m around you!” The words explode from him, echoing in the confined space. “Because every time we’re together, all I can think about is how much I want to—”
He cuts himself off, running a rough hand through his copper hair. The movement makes his bicep flex beneath his uniform shirt, and my mouth goes dry.
“Want to what?” I challenge, stepping closer as I stare up at him, my hands flying to my hips. My heart pounds so hard my chest actually aches.
His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking. “Maya…”
“Maybe, if I’m such a distraction, you should just kiss me and get it over with then.” The suggestion lands like a dare, but I’m too far gone to care. “Right here, right now. You know, get it out of your system.”
“That isn’t a good idea.” His voice is deathly low, but his eyes slip to my lips, betraying him. His pupils are blown wide, those green irises transformed into the thinnest of rings.
I inch forward, erasing the distance between us, unable, or unwilling, to accept no for an answer. “No one’s around.” The sliver of air between us feels electric, charged with possibility. “It would be just between you and me.”
“Last warning,” he growls, but he’s already backing me against the wall, one large hand coming up to cup my jaw, and a fierce hunger in those striking green eyes.