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Mateo grinned when the engine stopped outside a University of Texas dorm. He took a glance around at the stranded students, all women. Well, mostly women. There were a few stranded boyfriends, but for the most part, there was a sea of college girls in front of him, all in their pajamas, which seemed to be mostly tank tops and short shorts.
And then felt a hard thunk on the back of his head. “Eyes front, probie.” Paul walked past him, rolling his eyes. “You and Marwani, make sure the floors are cleared. The 112 has the top floor, start on four.”
Mateo brushed it off and turned to Marjan. “Hey. Bet you dish duty for a week that someone’s candle got knocked into their curtains.”
Marjan scoffed at him as she put on her mask. “One, don’t be stereotypical. Two, how’d curtains become a two-alarm fire?”
“Fire spread to their booze.” Mateo shot back as he pulled his own on.
“UT’s dry.” She informed him primly.
They went into the building, smoke building as they climbed. He and Marjan worked efficiently, splitting the floor to check the rooms and call for anyone trapped. He worked through the fourth quickly, but then Mateo heard something. He turned back to the last door. “AFD, call out!”
“We’re in here. I can’t get her up!” a voice called back. He went in to find two girls, one nearly dragging the other.
“She took something before bed! I could barely wake her up and I can’t carry either!” She looked terrified, her friend barely able to stand.
“I’ve got her. You get out, stairway on the left.” She paused, but Mateo just nodded at her, and she took off. After another hard sway, he radioed his position, then hoisted the blonde into his arms. He probably should have lifted her into a fireman’s carry, but she wasn’t wearing pants and he’d seen the news crews pull up thirty seconds after they did.
She grinned up at him, her eyes noticeably mismatched- one blue, one brown. “You’re pretty.”
“Thanks. Arms around my neck.” He positioned her the best way, then quickly made his way towards the exit.
Her head lolled against his chest. “And strong. I’m like, 135 and you picked me up like a gallon of milk.”
“Being able to carry people is part of our job.” Third floor, then the second.
She laughed. “And here I thought you just stayed buff for the calendars.”
“Never been in one.” First floor, then out the door. He saw Tommy and rushed over. “Female, early twenties, her roommate said she took something, and she couldn’t stay on her feet long enough to walk out.”
She about collapsed the moment she hit the gurney. Mateo turned away, ready to jump back into the frey when he heard her shout. “Hey!”
He looked back at her, her roommate having rushed to her side. “Those calendar people are missing out.”
Three days after the UT dorm fire, Mateo grinned as Marjan worked her way through the dishes. “It’s a dry campus. Why did they even have vodka? And why is it always candles?”
“Because it’s a college dorm.” Mateo shrugged, before grabbing a dish towel. “And I don’t know why it’s always candles, I just know it is. My cousin nearly burned our house down four times in one year when I was seven. Candles every time.”
She looked over, a bemused look on her face. “And is that when you decided to be a firefighter?”
He took a plate and sighed. “No. I decided that when I was 12 and kept my sister from burning the house down.”
Marjan dropped her head in defeat. “Candle?”
“No, actually.” He smirked at her surprised grin. “Incense.” She groaned in defeat and splashed him with the dishwater.
“Mateo Chavez.” A new voice called out. Mateo turned towards the stairs, surprised to see the blonde with mismatched eyes. She was taller than he remembered, but then realized it was the high heels. In her hands was a covered plate.
“Hi, I’m Lakelee McCormack. I brought some ‘thanks for carrying my drugged ass out of a burning building’ cupcakes. I hope you don’t mind.” She put them down, then gave him a stunning smile, much less vacant than at the fire.
“Mind? Never.” Marjan ripped off the tin foil and grabbed one. “What kind are they?”
“Gingerbread.” She walked around the table to lean against the counter next to him, her mismatched eyes seeking his as she answered Marjan. “And I’m glad it wasn’t the drugs.”
Mateo swallowed quickly, his mouth suddenly dry. “Um, what wasn’t the drugs?”
She flicked her tongue against her front teeth and bright red lips. “How hot the guy who carried me out was.”
He was so startled, he dropped the plate he was holding, and it shattered into a million pieces. “Shit.” Mateo dropped to his knees, picking up the biggest pieces. He was surprised to see Lakelee’s neatly manicured hands join his. He glanced over, her eyes locked onto him and a smile he’d almost call flirty.
They quickly cleaned the porcelain, Mateo buzzing from Lakelee’s closeness. He took her hand, to help pull her up, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in closer. “ You know I didn’t really come here for the cupcakes, right?”
She ran her foot up the side of Mateo’s leg. “I have tickets to Austin FC’s opening game tonight. You in?”
“Uh--” Mateo mumbled out, instantly hearing Marjan’s voice in his head, reading the notes about rescue victims and transference, which was clashing against the other voice pointing out that Lakelee was really pretty. “I’m not, -- AFD policy says--”
“Yeah, he’s in.” Judd’s drawl interrupted his jumbled up thoughts. “Ain’t you, probie.”
Mateo looked over, horrified to see Judd, Marjan, Paul, TK, and Carlos all crowded together, watching him. “I’m not off until eight.”
“You’re off at four.” Paul held his phone up. “I texted Simmons, and he said he’d come in early.”
“I can’t swap shifts without the captain’s permiss--” He started.
TK cut him off. “Dad, is it cool if Probie takes off early? He’s got a date. Simmons’ll cover.”
“Sounds good.” Captain Strand’s voice rose up from the lower floor.
Mateo turned back to Lakelee. She seemed amused, grinning at his awkwardness, but in a way that said she was laughing with him, not at him. “So?”
He took a deep breath and smiled at her. “Yeah. That sounds fun.”
“Yes!” She bounced in place, before grabbing a pen and the grocery notepad. “Here’s my number; the game starts at 7, so meet me at 6:30 by the ticket office?”
He nodded, transfixed as she walked away. Lakelee just had something about her that drew every eye in the room to her. Plus, her ass was fantastic.
Judd came over and held his hand up for a high five. “Goddamn, probie. Lakelee McCormack. I did not know you had that much game.”
Mateo’s brain suddenly stopped working. “Holy shit. I have a date with Lakelee McCormack.”
“I feel like I’m missing something.” Marjan interrupted. “Who’s Lakelee McCormack?”
“She plays soccer for UT.” Mateo said, numb from shock.
Judd scoffed at him, “Plays, hell. She’s their star. Took them to the quarter finals last year, as a freshman, with a spot on the national team just waiting for her to turn pro. Girl’s the next Mia Hamm.”
“And she wants to go out with me?” Mateo couldn’t help but ask himself.
Mateo was honestly surprised at the crowds surrounding the brand new Austin FC stadium. Men’s soccer wasn’t exactly the leading sport around. Then again, this was Austin’s first pro sports team, so maybe novelty won out over apathy. Glancing around, he made his way over to the ticket booth, keeping an eye out for Lakelee.
“Mateo!” He turned towards the voice calling his name. There was Lakelee, the crowds parting before her like masses before their goddess. Which, given how many little girls were looking at her in awe, she kind of was.
She was a goddess Mateo wouldn’t mind worshipping either. Some kind of strappy heels, seriously short shorts, and an Austin FC crop top that all showed off her lean legs and four pack abs, her blond hair billowing out behind her. She waved him over, an infectious grin on her face.
He headed over, slightly unsure of himself. Sure, he’d showered after shift, but he was in jeans and a slightly ratty AFD shirt, while Lakelee looked like she’d just walked out of a magazine. As he drew nearer, he realized it wasn’t some random passerby she was talking to, but Jordan Wainwright, Channel 7’s sports reporter.
“-- really looking forward to watching a soccer game without having to analyze the other team for weaknesses.” She laughed into the microphone. “I hate to run, but my date’s here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the will-call window. “Thank god. I’d been stuck talking to him for ten minutes, and I swear, he’s the most self-centered man alive.”
Mateo chuckled, walking quickly to keep up with her. “He can’t be that bad.”
“I have had more productive conversations with cats.” She told him, the exhaustion of old memories haunting her voice as they reached the window. “Now, full disclosure, the tickets were a gift, so I have no idea where we’re sitting.”
With a toss of her hair, she turned to the girl working the booth. “Are you picking up or purchasing tickets?” The brunette asked with a roteness that made Mateo’s heart cry out in sympathy for how busy her day must have been.
“Hi, there should be two tickets for me under McCormack.” Lakelee said, leaning forward and absently kicking her foot as she did so. Mateo couldn’t help but notice the thick, corded muscle that ran all through her legs.
“Miss McCormack, of course!” The girl seemed to jolt, suddenly becoming extra sweet. “Here are your tickets and wristbands. You’ll need them to get into club seating. Take those stairs up two flights and then go left.”
Lakelee turned, holding the plastic bands aloft. “I’ll do you if you do me.” She said with a wicked grin.
Mateo grinned back as he fastened one band around her wrist, the skin soft under his calloused hands. She wrapped the other around his own wrist, running her hands up his forearms to his biceps. “Jesus, no wonder you could carry me down four flights of stairs. Which I probably should feel bad about, but I don’t.”
They followed the directions the ticked girl gave. Mateo couldn’t wrap his arm around her shoulder-- Lakelee was 5’8”, two inches taller than him even without the heels-- but when he grabbed her waist, she leaned in closer. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What were you on and why?”
Lakelee looked away, blushing. “It’s stupid.”
“Stupider trying to kill a cockroach by dousing your curtains with vodka and throwing a lit candle at them?” Mateo asked.
She stopped short and stared at him. “Are you serious?”
He held up three fingers. “Scouts’ honor.”
“Uh, no, not stupider than that.” Lakelee laughed as they followed the signs reading “Club Seating”. “I needed some dental work done, but I wig out at needles, so they sedated me instead of using nitrous and local. And if you do that, you take valium the night before, to make the sedatives work better.”
Mateo grinned at her confession. “Hey, that’s not stupid. I hate needles, too.”
She gave him a look of pure disbelief. “You walk into fire for a living, and needles freak you out.”
“Fire isn’t pointy.” He shrugged.
“Fair enough. Oh, club seating.” She pulled him towards a roped-off area, with exclusive restaurants and lounges.
“I don’t think that’s the right-” Mateo started, only for Lakelee to cut him off and walk to the attendant.
“Name?” The man asked, clearly as convinced as Mateo that they were not in the right place.
“Lakelee McCormack and Mateo Chavez.” She said airily, holding up her wrist to let the band show. Mateo awkwardly followed suit.
“Of course.” The man noted their names, then beckoned one of the well-dressed minions over. “Alex, please escort Miss McCormack and her … guest to their seats.”
Mateo prickled at how the man addressed him. Lakelee had asked him to a soccer game, not a fashion show. Judging by disdain on her face, Lakelee was equally unimpressed.
“You do know what the ‘AFD’ on his shirt stands for, right?”. The ice in her voice lowered the temperature five degrees as she raised her hand to silence him. “I’ll tell you: Austin Fire Department. He’s a firefighter, and you? You’re a glorified coat check, so how about a little respect.”
The man almost choked as Lakelee kept her gaze locked onto him, tilting her head in a way that screamed ‘I’m waiting.’
“Apologies, Mr. Chavez.” He said with all the joy of someone who just drank a gallon of lemon juice. “Thank you for your service to Austin and I hope you enjoy the game.”
“I’m sure we will.” She flashed him a conspiratorial grin, tongue once again playing against her teeth. “Not gonna lie: I love having power.”
Mateo was speechless as Lakelee dragged him into the lounge. He couldn’t believe what she’d done. People treated him like a kid, like he was stupid, like he didn’t belong. People didn’t treat him like he was somebody , and they definitely didn’t make other people do it, too.
When they found their seats, Mateo’s jaw dropped. They were mid-level, front row, and right at the center of the field: the best seats in the stadium. “Who gave you these tickets?”
Lakelee glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “You’re about to find out. Apologies, I’m gonna have to sing for our supper. Well, seats. Anthony!” She smiled as she greeted the man who just came over, but it wasn’t like her earlier smiles. This was all for show, plastic and fake. “Mateo, this is Anthony Precourt.”
The other man held out his hand, grinning at the pair of them. “Mateo Chavez, correct? Anthony Precourt, Austin FC’s owner, and may I say thank you for saving Ms. McCormack.” Mateo grimaced as he shook hands. He didn’t know why, but the dude reminded him of the guy who sold him his car. “As a soccer fan, I am very appreciative. So appreciative, in fact, that -- Evie!”
He waved over one of the waitresses serving the club seating patrons. “Evie, I want you to take care of these two all night, anything they want, all on the house. I mean it.” He pointed at Lakelee and Mateo. “You two are my special guests, and I want you to know that.”
Five minutes later, they were settled, drinks in hand as they waited for their burgers. He sighed as he sipped his beer. He’d asked for a Corona, but ended up with some local craft thing and he had to admit, it was pretty good. Lakelee was sucking down a mango-vodka strawberry lemonade. As she popped her feet onto the rails, Mateo couldn’t take it anymore. “Lakelee, I don’t know how to say this but: what the hell?”
“What do you mean?” She kept her eyes on the pre-game warmup, assessing the players’ skills.
Mateo gestured around them. “I mean all this! Why did the club’s owner give you the best seats in the house and pay for our food and neither of us got carded, which is weird because you’re 19 and I’m barely 21 and we both look it.”
She laughed, a warm, bubbling sound that set her eyes sparkling. “Precourt’s courting me. Professionally.” She quickly added. “He’s bidding on an expansion for the women’s league. Wants to run them as two halves of a whole: one stadium, one support staff, one marketing team. Slightly higher operation costs, but the profits would be through the roof. And if I commit to staying in Austin post-graduation, it’d help him get it. I probably won’t but I have zero problems milking it before turning him down.”
In a heartbeat, Mateo saw Lakelee’s future. She was a once-in-a-generation talent. She was going to win Olympic medals and world cups and had teams courting her because her name meant ticket sales. She was going to be rich and famous adored. And him? He was a dropout with a GED who took five tries to pass the Fire Academy Test and would get deported if he washed out of his probationary year with a tattoo that only didn’t have a typo because Marjan was scary.
But then the game started, and Lakelee curled into him and all that floated away.
Mateo had to admit that this was easily the best date of his life. Their burgers were delicious and huge, the game well-played, and Lakelee. She was amazing. Passionate and insightful and very cuddly. Over the course of the first half, she’d leaned in closer and closer until she was sitting in his lap. He’d tried to convince himself it was only because of the booze, but she’d only had the one drink, and Lakelee McCormack seemed like she could hold her alcohol. And it’s not like he minded having a drop-dead gorgeous girl literally all over him, whispering soccer insights and asking his opinion like it meant something. So, yeah, rocking first date.
At least, until the jumbotron.
At first, it seemed pretty harmless. Parents with kids, couples, one with a pair of best friends. He was happy to see Austin FC didn’t discriminate-- there were queer couples, interracial couples, a woman in a hijab. It all gave the impression of an Austin FC game as a place where anyone was welcome to come and enjoy the game.
Obviously carefully planned but a nice gesture , Mateo thought.
Until he saw himself up on the screen, Lakelee tucked into his side, with a heart around them, the crowd chanting for them to kiss.
“Option A,” Lakelee murmured in his ear, “I flip them off. Option B, we kiss because I really fucking want to kiss you, and then I flip them off.”
“Is there an option where you don’t flip off 20,000 people?” Mateo asked hopefully. Lakelee simply pulled back and quirked a single eyebrow. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ll take b.”
She grinned, tongue between her teeth again , then kissed him.
From the moment their lips touched, it was like fireworks going off. She shifted so she was completely straddling him, one hand planted on the back of his seat, the other raised high, middle finger out. Mateo figured he should be a gentleman and ensure Lakelee didn’t lose her balance, so he grabbed her waist with his left hand and snaked his right up her back towards her hair. This kiss deepened, her tongue stroking his teeth, her nipping his lips, all while Mateo just drowned in her. The heavy silk of her hair, the heat of her body as she ground against him--
--A shock of cold water poured over them. Evie stood over them with an empty pitcher. “I’m sorry, but there’s a limit and people were complaining. Please don’t have me fired!” She hid her face behind the empty vessel, blush shining through.
Lakelee looked down at him, chest heaving and drops running enticingly down her neck. “My dorms only 20 minutes away, but I have a roommate.”
“Mine’s 30, but I live alone.” Mateo told her, locked onto her stunning mismatched eyes.
“Your place.” “My place.” they agreed in unison.
The month after that was a whirlwind. Lakelee and Mateo spent most of their free time together, texting when they couldn’t. Mateo was surprised to learn that Lakelee, for all her confidence, chose the very practical major of physical therapy.
“In case I get injured, or my pro career doesn’t work out.” She’d said as she helped ease the pain in his shoulder after he’d strained it on a call. “I refuse to go crawling back to Hickory with my tail between my legs. Besides, I still get to minor in Ancient History, and I’ve been looking at double majoring. Alexander the Great is one of my heroes.”
“You aiming to be the conquering hero of women’s soccer?” He groaned out as her hands worked over his tender muscle. “Hey, you got the eyes for it.”
They bonded over their shared love of Ancient Greece. Mateo preferred the myths, shyly admitting that oral traditions meant there were lots of youtube videos for him to listen to, thus skirting his dyslexia, while Lakelee lived for military history and confessed that her fascination with Alexander the III of Macedon started when she learned he shared the eyes that got her teased so much as a kid. And yes, she did secretly want to be “Lakelee the Great, the leader whose mark on the battlefield of the soccer pitch will never be forgotten, and who will only yield to Mateo’s biceps.” She’d giggled out.
Lakelee had been delighted to realize that Mateo could cook, and cook well. He’d laughed at her being a spice wimp the first time he made her fajitas and her face almost melted, but she was always eager to try everything he offered after making at least part of the meals at “midwestern white girl” spice levels.
She never judged him, either. Not about his dyslexia (“Can you hand me a book? Blue one, second in the stack?”), or his being illegal (“Plan B: we go to Vegas”) or his fears about washing out (“Babe, I once lost a championship match by scoring an own goal when I tripped over my shoelaces. No one gets everything right, but that doesn’t mean they don’t bring plenty to the table”), or even his crazy family (“Yeah, I know they were calling me a whore, but it clearly wasn’t personal.”) Basically, Lakelee was the perfect girlfriend.
Not perfect. She was petty, opportunistic, crazy competitive, and her ego was so big it needed its own four-bedroom house. But Mateo could overlook all that for someone accepting and funny and driven, and fine, insanely hot in bed and out. He could take the ribbing he got after that first date if it meant being with someone who always made his day better, even if it was just complaining about a professor so boring his classes induced time dilation.
But despite all of that, Mateo couldn’t ever quash his doubts. Each time she invited him to some fancy alumni dinner, or they went to an Austin FC game because of course Precourt gave her season tickets, or took a selfie with some star-eyed ten year old, that same nagging question came roaring back into his head: What was Lakelee McCormack doing dating a loser like him? And eventually, that question had to come out of it.
The dam burst in the middle of the worst date that Mateo had ever been on. Lakelee had texted him to dress nice, because she’d made reservations for them at a restaurant in downtown Austin. From the moment he’d walked in, he wanted to run out. It was fancy-- the kind of place TK and Captain Strand would call “high-end” which actually meant “out-the-ass expensive”. It was the kind of place Mateo thought he’d never set foot in unless he was working there, and from the look in the eyes of the suited dude guarding the host stand, he thought the same.
“Name?” the man asked, the disdain dripping from his voice.
“Mateo Chavez.” He stumbled out. “I’m meeting Lakelee McCormack.”
Suit Man made a disbelieving murmur, then checked his computer. “So you are.” The note of surprise in his voice made Mateo want to melt into the floor.
As he followed the waitress, the sharp sense that he didn’t belong here only grew. He saw Lakelee, and Mateo was struck with how much she fit into a place like this. Hair pulled up, makeup tastefully applied, reading over a wine list-- she was high-end, and Mateo was a food truck.
Lakelee grinned as he slunk into the seat across from her. “How do you feel about wine?”
“What? He asked numbly.
“Wine? I kind of want a bottle, but I can’t stand red wine. Or dry white wine. Basically, I need all my alcohol to taste like sugar, so I’m stuck with a Riesling or Moscato, but those are too sweet for a lot of people. Maybe I’ll just get a vodka cranberry.” She muttered, continuing to flip the list back and forth as if a new, perfect wine would magically appear.
And suddenly, Mateo couldn’t take it anymore. He was sick of waiting for the other shoe to drop, so he decided to smack it from the air himself. “What am I doing here?”
Lakelee looked up at him, confusion shining in her blue and brown eyes. “Eating a free dinner?”
“That’s not what I mean.” Mateo burst out. “What am I doing here with you? Why are you, a star athlete who gets season tickets and free meals so you might play for a team in three years, dating me?”
Lakelee gave a small laugh. “As opposed to . . .?”
Mateo sat back and waved his hand. “I don’t know. Athletes? Governors? People who didn’t fail out of high school? Someone who looks like they belong in this restaurant as something other than a busboy? People who can keep up with you.”
Her jaw dropped, but no words came out. She looked like someone had asked her to find the square root of a ham sandwich. “Mateo, I--” She cut herself off and swallowed. “I’ve dated the kind of guys you think I should date. The popular boys in high school, the rich ones here. And every last one of them has tried to bring me to heel.”
“My parents didn’t want me to go to UT. They wanted me to go to community college, coach the girls youth league, and have 2.5 kids with my ex who cheated on me constantly, because ‘it’s all a game either way.’ My ex actually expected me to do it, because if he couldn’t get out of Hickory, I shouldn’t.” Lakelee began playing with a piece of bread. She was a fidgeter, always had to be moving something, so this poor roll was doomed to be shredded by her anxious fingers. “Guys here were the same-- they loved the idea of a wild, vivacious, connected girlfriend, until I didn’t stop being those things. They wanted to set the pace and didn’t care if it meant slowing me down so they could be ahead. I actually dated a guy who told me on our third date that I couldn’t-- not shouldn’t, couldn’t-- sign to Portland because it’d be bad for his field.”
She paused and took a deep breath, then smiled at him, a heartbreaking thing. “But you? Mateo, you’re brave and sweet and hot and you think my desire to channel Alexander the Great is adorable and you cook me the world’s blandest Mexican food because I’m pathetic. You never wanted me to slow down. I always thought you were fine going along on my whirlwind. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?” Her eyes filled with tears.
Mateo felt as if the breath was punched out of his body. He could hardly imagine anyone seeing her spin through life and wanting to clip her wings, but at the same time knew it was true. His own cousins had given him shit for dating “a dumb puta who drags you around by your balls.”
“No.” He reached out and grabbed her hands. “No, you’re not. Your whirlwind is crazy and chaotic, but I run into flaming buildings for a living. I can handle crazy. I just couldn’t figure out what you saw in me, but it’s the same thing I see in you, isn’t it? Someone who gets me and makes me happy.”
Lakelee let out a gasping laugh. “And who ensures I win every ‘who’s got the hottest SO?’ contest.”
“Well, obviously.” Mateo shrugged playfully. “So, if we’re not breaking up--”
Lakelee giggled and shook her head.
“-- then let's spend some of Precourt’s money.”
“Oh, this isn’t Anthony’s money.” Lakelee stated matter-of-factly. “The owner’s second wife played for UT I think six years ago, so an unofficial team perk is one free date night a semester. The lamb is talking to me, but the steak is supposed to be good, too.” she muttered, perusing the menu.
Once again, Mateo was smacked with Lakelee’s life. Shady skirting of NCAA regulations, people trying to get in good with her before she became big, and her casual acceptance of this. But instead of feeling out of place, Mateo felt a warmth in his heart that she wanted to yank him into her world because she liked him.
“So, Portland?” he asked, grinning at her. “That your dream team?”
Lakelee met his gaze, her own still slightly unsure. “Yeah, actually. Them, Carolina, maybe see how the LA team shakes out. That bother you?”
Nope. I can go anywhere you do.” Mateo raised her hand and kissed her knuckles, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. “I may not know a lot about sports, but I’m pretty sure that where there’s sports, there’s fire.”