Hot Mess (5 page)

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Authors: Anne Conley

Tags: #steamy romance, #hot firefighter, #hiv, #romance, #fireman, #aids, #steamy, #contemporary romance, #adult romance, #firefighter

BOOK: Hot Mess
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"Yeah, thanks. I don't want to bust up y'all's game. I'm gonna lift some." He said it as casually as he could and sauntered over to the corner. He was strong, and he knew it. He'd held the JFD record for benching and curls. If he was going to make a first impression, this would be it. It might seem a little rude, but he wasn't sure that getting all touchy feely at this stage would win him any points, certainly not with the way that guy Derrick was eyeballing him.

In addition to the free weights, there was a bench press machine, so he headed for it. Knowing he was going to have to show off a little, he didn't do the warm-up reps that he usually did. Putting the stick in the hole marked three-twenty, he heard the silence in the room. Laying back on the bench, Sam began lifting. After a set of reps, he moved the stick up twenty pounds and did another set. Then he moved it again.

Cade whistled. "Damn." He said under his breath. One down. Eight more men to go.

After killing himself benching, Sam moved to the free weights and began doing arm curls. He didn't look at the other guys, but he could hear that they had gone on with their pool game and were ignoring him. That was good. At least the open hostility was gone.

Sam was concentrating on his curls with the free weights, when Cade called out from across the room. "Hey man, you married?"

He didn't look up, not wanting to pursue this particular line of questioning, but knowing that the inevitable inquiry period was coming. "Nope. Divorced."

"Got kids?"

Sam looked at Cade, who was shorter than Derrick, but built like a barn. "Yeah, I've got a daughter, she's ten."

"Who you got staying with her?"

"A lady named Brenda Di 'Angelo."

The room suddenly stilled, and Sam noticed a few eyes cut towards Derrick. "What? You guys know her?"

Cade laughed, uncomfortably. Sam could pinpoint the peacemaker in the group. "Yeah, we know her."

A blond guy, Justin, Sam thought it was, made a grinding motion with his hips, "Some of us more than others."

A growl escaped from Derrick, and he shot Justin a warning look. Sam could see a history between the two, and he didn't want to be the cause of more drama. He really hated drama.

Justin continued with a smirk, "Derrick wants to know her better." He pantomimed spanking an imaginary woman in front of him. "If you know what I mean…" Cade and Dave laughed uneasily, getting ready to bust up a fight.

"Shut the fuck up, man." Derrick was rigid, his knuckles white on his pool stick.

Before anybody could come to blows, a short Hispanic man came out of the kitchen, with a gray-headed man wearing a mustache in tow. "Chow's ready!" Seeing Sam, his face broke out into a warm smile. "You must be the transfer, I'm Juan. This is Morris. We're the cooks this week. Hope you like chili."

Thankful for the break in tension, Sam grinned at the friendly face. "I love it, but I'm sorry, I ate before I came in. Won't happen again," he added when he saw the man's face fall.

Cade chuckled, "Good, because you'll get your chance to try it another time."

Wondering what the story was with Brenda and these guys, Sam continued with his work out, moving on to the leg machine. Brenda has sort of flirted with him a couple of times, and he wondered if she was a slut. If she was trying to work her way through the fire department, he wasn't sure if he wanted her supervising his daughter.

And he certainly didn't want to be the next notch on her bedpost.

Sam couldn't help himself, as distasteful thoughts of Brenda trying to seduce him turned towards Rachel. He would love it if
she
tried the seduction game. He admitted to himself, he wouldn't even put up a fight.

 

 

 

Chapter 4

From Remainingrachel.com

 

Dear Rachel,

 

Last weekend, I drank too much at a party and gave a guy I don't know a blow job, and he fingered me. I didn't get his number, and I have no idea where to find him. I was stupid. I get that. My question is, when do I get tested for AIDS? I know it's not instantaneous, but how long do I wait? I can't believe I did that, and I haven't been able to sleep since. How much longer until I'll be able to? BTW, I didn't swallow, but I did taste some pre-cum.

 

Sleepless in Spokane

 

Dear Sleepless,

 

First of all, clarification needs to be made between HIV and AIDS. HIV is the virus that causes AIDS, which is a syndrome that develops later.

 

You need to get tested immediately. Sometimes it takes as long as three to six months for the virus to show up in your bloodstream, so get tested again at three months, then again at six months to be sure. However, unless the guy had open cuts or sores on his penis, you are probably at a very low risk, since you didn't swallow any fluids (pre-cum does count, but not too risky, depending on this guy's hypothetical viral load). No known cases of HIV or AIDS have been documented from fingering. If I were you, I'd get tested for everything, though. You are more likely to have gotten herpes or some other STD. As with most medical questions, though, I encourage you to ask your health care provider, as I am not trained to dispense medical advice. Just suggestions.

 

Rachel nonMD

This column is not meant to substitute for a visit to a doctor. This is advice about living with HIV.

 

Speaking of doctors, Rachel had a doctor's appointment in thirty minutes. She shut the laptop and changed quickly, before hopping into her nineteen ninety-seven Impalla with the electric purple paint job. It was a good deal, and it ran great, as long as the alternator was doing okay. She had had it rebuilt twice and didn't relish the idea of buying a new one. It was on her list of things to get around to eventually.

Dr. Baine's news wasn't as good as Rachel hoped it would be, but then again, how good could it get?

"Your CD4 levels have gone down. Not alarmingly so, but they're lower than I would like for them to be. In three months, if they are still going down, and your viral load becomes detectable, we may have to change your treatment. We'll try Atripla, which includes a different class of antivirals you haven't used before. We'll give it a shot and see how it works. Of course, this could just be a glitch and they'll be back up to normal next visit. You never know."

He was so blasé, which was why Rachel liked Dr. Baine. He was a middle-aged man, fit, not too hard on the eyes, and didn't over-react to stuff.

"Your viral load is still undetectable, and that's good, we just need to get the T cells back up where they need to be. You still taking your vitamins?"

"Yes, and my superfluous birth control and my ever-leveling anti-depressants. I take more medicines daily than a ninety six-year-old woman. You should see my pill box." This earned her a grimace from Dr. Baine.

"Well, good. Your liver and kidney levels look fine, as does everything else for now. We'll see you in three months to check those CD4 levels as well as your CD4%, and possibly start a new regimen. Okay?"

"Sure. Thanks." She hopped off the exam table and left the office, after writing a huge check to pay for all the lab work that wasn't covered by her insurance. Checking the time on her phone, she realized she'd gotten a text from Cindy, her friend who worked at the state Health and Human Services branch here in Serendipity.

Can you run by real quick before you pick up Sophie? I want to talk to you about something.

She texted back: I just have a minute. Are you at the office?

Cindy replied before she'd gotten her seat belt buckled. Yes. I just need to run something by you. It won't take a minute.

Rachel started the car and texted back: Sure. Be there in a sec.

The good thing about Serendipity was that it took all of ten minutes to drive across town. Cindy looked frazzled as usual when Rachel got there.

"I've got ten minutes. What's up?"

"There's a Health Fair at the Methodist Church on Saturday." Cindy's cheerful voice belied her disheveled appearance.

Rachel sighed inwardly. "You know I don’t meet with people in person, Cin."

"Yeah, I know, but think of all the country bumpkins you can educate," Cindy teased.

"I don't think so, Cindy. I don't do public stuff." Rachel was terrified of her situation getting out around town. Serendipity wasn't the smallest town in Texas, but it seemed to pride itself on its small town mentality, and gossip could be brutal. She didn't want anything to come back to Sophia in a negative way.

"Hundreds of people come to these things, Rachel. You could really open some eyes in this town, if you had a booth in it. You of all people know how valuable this could be."

"I know, but I just don't feel comfortable putting myself out there like that. I've got Sophie to think about, here. I get enough hate mail just from the website. I don't need it from people I know."

Cindy laughed, her ever present good nature calming Rachel's nerves a little. "You don't know anybody here, Rachel. You never leave your house."

"You make me sound agoraphobic. I do too leave my house. I go to PTA meetings. I take Sophie to school. I volunteer there a lot. I do stuff."

"Whatever. Just think about it?"

Rachel put her finger on her chin, affecting a thoughtful pose. "Hmm…No. Happy?"

"No, and I'm going to try again next year. But I guess I understand."

"Great, I gotta go get Sophie. Anything else?"

"When are we going for drinks? You look like you could use a night out."

"Not anytime soon. I've got a couple of deadlines on the site stuff coming up, and after that, who knows? I'm so busy all the time. I don't understand. It's not like I have a real job." She was joking. The pharmaceutical advertisers who paid her for her website, were unbelievably picky about their criteria. They wanted a certain number of posts each week, and she struggled with putting correct information out for the public.

Cindy gave her a look, "You're being flaky."

Rachel's alarm on her phone went off, signaling the time to pick up Sophia, so she made her excuses to Cindy and headed to the elementary school.

She was able to focus on her disappointment while she waited for the bell to ring. She had made the mistake of getting her hopes up, while her CT4 levels were in the normal range and her viral load undetectable. That pretty much meant that Rachel felt like a normal person. As long as her white blood cells were at the levels they were supposed to be, and her viral load was undetectable, then she was healthy. For about three years, Rachel had almost allowed herself to feel ordinary. It had been fun while it lasted.

Unfortunately, levels fluctuate. Rachel tried not to dwell on it, but the familiar "what if" panic reared its head at her, and she had to just be thankful that she didn't have the ability to check her levels every day. She would be worse than a dieter with a scale. Rachel was careful to take her medications at the same time every day, in the morning while she brushed her teeth, because adherence is key to staying healthy. She knew that there weren't endless choices for treatment, and the longer she preserved her options, the better off she would be.

Focusing on the brickwork of the school building, she refused to cry. Rachel reminded herself she had to stay positive for Sophia. By some miracle of God, Sophia was unscathed by this disease, and Rachel did everything in her power to make sure their lives stayed that way. Sophia knew her mom was HIV positive, and she was aware of the ramifications of the disease, but Rachel didn't harp on the negative aspects, and they didn't make a big deal out of it. It was just a part of her life.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the pleasant distraction of Sam's long-legged form walking in front of her car to stand in position against the brick pillar in front of the school.

Rachel sighed like a teenager in love, as she watched him amble down the sidewalk, in worn cowboy boots, faded jeans that hung low on his hips, and a plaid shirt that stretched across his shoulders that looked softer than her seven hundred thread count sheets. He was yummy.

She thought back to the night two weeks ago, when he'd come to his door fresh from the shower. He might as well have been naked, her imagination had gone into overdrive. His moist skin in that tanktop undershirt, with steam rising from it. Her mouth went dry at the memory. Looking at him now, she reminded herself that it was a good thing she had made him so mad, even if she still couldn't find Meemaw's ring. If he hadn't been so mad at her, she would have been tempted to be neighborly and spend more time with him. Judging by the interest she'd noticed in his eyes, she might have just forgotten herself.

Rachel was still staring at him, lost in her memories of him in his undershirt, trying to remember what the tattoo on his bicep was, when he turned and caught her.

Busted.

He didn't smile, but he did give her an off-handed wave, that could have meant anything. She wasn't sure if he was still mad at her or not. He hadn't come back over, but he hadn't kept Amanda from coming back over, either. Maybe Rachel needed to make a gesture, to stay on friendly terms with him.

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