Dean trying to make me feel like I’m not worthy of being loved by anyone other than him. It’s like he doesn’t want me, but at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.
Well, fuck him!
Landon wanted me, even if it was just for a moment in time. But that man was so delectable. He made me feel more sexual and feminine than Dean ever managed to do. Life can be cruel when it shows you nirvana but then sends you back to the hell that is Rochester right now.
I thought I could cope with being in the same firehouse with Dean, assuming that his fling with Kyra would be brief. But I was wrong on both counts. Working with him, and now the newly confident Kyra too, has just gotten worse. I decided I just need to continue to come in to work, do my job, be professional, save lives, and then go home again. Sticking to myself and not reacting to their stupid comments and public displays of affection. Even one of my friends, Margot, who lives in the same street as me, has been worried about me. She’s told me that the spark in my eyes she saw shining brightly after my Christmas holiday back home, is now dimming.
When I finally walk in my front door after the drive home from the station, I place my bag down carefully and slide off my shoes. After all my thoughts of Landon while I was on the commute home, and how amazing those two weeks with him were, I know I need another shower. Firstly, to wash off the yucky feeling I had after showering at the station, overhearing Dean and Kyra talking about what they do in the stalls. I hate thinking my hands had been on anything they’d touched while having sex. But it’s also because I’m now horny as hell, just like every other time I think about Landon. Memories of him and histouch do things to me that they shouldn’t. Well, they shouldn’t anymore. It was a one-time thing, and I need to forget about it.
As soon as the hot water rains down on me, I slip my hand down and work to get myself off. I know I’ll never be able to forget him. But I also know I’ll never be able to have him either.
I’m not sure how I’ll be able to cope with my next visit home, with him being right there, just over the fence.
He’s a temptation that will be hard to resist. I actually hope he has a new girlfriend by then. It would make it easier.
Who am I kidding… no, I don’t hope that at all.
It’s been the longest week at work since the little shower episode with Dean and Kyra. She has become a hostile bitch toward me, and something is going on with Dean because he’s acting differently around me again. Almost like he’s flirting with me. And weirdly, I’m now the woman he’s looking at when he should be paying attention to his girlfriend. Something he used to do to me all the time.
I’m confused as to what has made him flip the switch, but all I can think is that I’ve been standing up to him a lot more since I came home from Boston. I don’t take his shit anymore, and I’m trying my best to ignore Kyra. To be honest, I couldn’t give a fuck what the two of them are doing together, as long as they leave me alone.
The problem, though, is that Dean is the kind of man who always thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. But I can say for sure that there’s no way he’s getting another chance to mow my grass.
His flirting became obvious when we all went out to our local bar, The Smokehouse, where all the firefighters hang out aftera shift. Dean was trying to get in my good books again, making sure I was involved in all the conversations that he had been deliberately excluding me from for months. Brushing past me on the way to the bar, placing his hand in the curve of my lower back. That place is kind of like the unspoken zone where only your boyfriend places his hand. Almost like he’s claiming you in front of the other men in the room.
Dean knew the moment he touched me that I wasn’t impressed, by the immediate death stare I gave him and how I jumped forward on my stool to break the contact with his hand. He backed off for the rest of the night, but Kyra seeing him touch me just made her more agitated, and that has escalated her behavior in the firehouse since then.
Petty things like knocking over my glass of water on the table in the lunchroom so I had wet pants, and I’m sure she put extra chili in my food when she was on dinner duty. Little does she know I love a lot of spice, so it didn’t affect me. I actually enjoyed the chili con carne that night, and I made sure I complimented her on the great batch she made. Probably not a smart move to provoke her, but seriously, she is showing her age with the way she’s acting. This isn’t high school anymore. Grow up and do your job.
I was glad for a couple days off, but when I came back on shift today, it was like her attitude toward me had gotten worse, which I didn’t think was possible. And her blatant flirting in the firehouse with Dean has been sickening. When Dean and I were in a relationship, we kept our public displays of affection out of work. Just the occasional kiss or Dean would put his arm around me on really tough days, but other than that, we were just coworkers.
I’m not the only one becoming uncomfortable with this constant public display. I heard Rosco tell them to knock it off earlier, and that’s unusual for him to say something.
Walking into the locker room to grab my iPad from my bag, I hear footsteps behind me, which isn’t abnormal. We’re all in and out of our lockers during the day, getting things to occupy ourselves after we’ve done all the equipment maintenance, especially if it’s a slow day for call-outs.
Reaching in, I grab the iPad, and as I close my locker, turning to walk back out to the rec room, I almost walk straight into Dean.
“Hey, Pops.” His use of the nickname he used to call me when we were together makes my whole body shudder with a feeling of disgust. I hated the name back then but never said anything because I had on those rose-colored glasses you get when you think you’re in love. But the sound of that name slipping off his lips now actually makes me feel sick.
“Poppy,” I grunt.
“Oh, come on, Pops, don’t be like that. You used to love it when I was screaming that name while I was fucking you inourbed.” He leers at me, and I recognize the lust in his eyes.
I hold my hand in the air in front of him to signal stop.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. You gave up that right a long time ago. Remember when you were more interested in a younger, tighter pussy and told me I just wasn’t doing it for you anymore? So, if I ever hear words like that out of your mouth to me again, or you speak about me in that way in this firehouse to anyone, I will report you for sexual harassment.” Taking a step around him, standing tall, I try to give the impression of confidence and that I’m deadly serious.
He reaches out and grabs my arm, leaning his body in close to mine, and whispers into my ears, “Where was this sexy feistiness when we were dating, Pops? If you’d shown me this side of you then, I might not have gone looking elsewhere.”
I can’t stop myself. On reflex, I slap him across the face as hard as I can. He stumbles back a little and drops my arm.
“What the fuck,” he whines as his hand moves to his red cheek.
“Feisty enough for you, asshole?” I hiss at him.
“Dean, shit,” Kyra shrieks from the doorway, rushing toward him. I don’t know how long she was there or how much she heard.
Pushing past her, I leave him there looking at me with a stupid smirk on his face which just infuriates me more.
