AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, when you have the we’re-not-seeing-anyone-else talk, it elevates the relationship. Above, you know.” I don’t hide my smirk. “And there were one or two in there that I dated more seriously.” Stopped using condoms in two different relationships. In my book, that’s damn serious, but I’m not about to share that with Sage. Not right now. “But, you know, we reached the bridge.”
“The bridge?” She’s amused, sure, but she’s genuinely curious.
“You know. It’s when you’ve been dating for a while, met each other’s families, and questions start getting asked. Or life events force a discussion. Let’s take Chere, for example. She and I dated for about two years before I got stationed in Japan. I liked her, loved some things about her, but didn’t see us getting married. We faced the bridge. I’d never ask her to do a stint in another country if I didn’t see us getting married.” I’ve known plenty of guys who had the shit or get off the pot moment for the same damn reason. “There was another woman. Jessica. I just had one too many assignments abroad, I guess. We just kind of grew apart slowly. She’s the one who ended things. She was ready to settle down, and I wasn’t the guy she wanted to do that with.”
“So, the bridge is marriage?”
“It’s what I call it.” I link my fingers and stretch out my arms. As I deepen the stretch, the muscles along my shoulders burn. “That’s my love life, in a nutshell.” I nudge her thigh with my big toe. “Your turn.”
What I wouldn’t give to pull her on top of me right now.
“I don’t really have anything to share.”
“I’m calling bullshit on that. How old are you?” I’m teasing her. Pretending to be oblivious. When she tried to kiss me the first time, she wasn’t yet eighteen. Back then, I’d been highly attuned to her age.
She covers her face with one hand, spreads her fingers, and peeks through the cracks.
“Hiding?”
She drops her hand and stretches her fingers across the blanket. “Well, you know my story.”
“No.” Her gaze shoots up. “I mean, yes. Your younger years. The wonder years, so to speak. But not your twenties. Sam told me the big highlights. College. Teaching. Your love life never once came up in discussion.”
“Those weren’t really wonder years for me.” She slaps a palm over her mouth, then drops it. “I hate when I do that. I’m sorry. I’m lucky. And I had a great childhood. The best family. I’m very lucky.” She repeats the words like it’s her mantra.
“Hey, I’d say you have every right to vent a little. Bum heart and all.”
Sam’s the one who showed me how to act around her. To treat her like I would any other kid.
“True.” She cracks a smile. “But I’m also very lucky and fortunate, and I know others who weren’t so lucky. Anyhoo…this is not a pity song. But I…you know, after the transplant, I stayed close to home. Then, I got to go to college, but had some complications. And then during college, Mom was sick.” She picks at the blanket. “Then Dad. Then I moved. Oh, and let’s not forget Covid. I had to be more careful than most. I mean, yeah. It’s…yeah, I dated, but no one serious.”
“No one to chill out with during Covid?” During Covid, I lived in San Diego and more or less spent time outdoors. Ignored warnings. I mean, I wore a mask if instructed, but…
“Jimmy. We were Covid buddies.” She peeks up at me through her lashes. “It was a sacrifice for him, you know? He had to really restrict himself because he couldn’t risk bringing anything back to me. I mean, in Asheville, people battened down for a while, but even when restrictions loosened, he took all the precautions. For me. Which is why, like, I get you questioning him. But he’d never sell me out. Ever.”
“One of these days I’m going to have to meet this Jimmy,” I tell her, and she grins. I really like that smile of hers. It warms me up in ways I do not need to think about.
“All right. So, no first love?” She says that phrase like it’s magical. Grinning, I shake my head, but I’d really like to pry into her history. “Any missions you can talk about?”
“I could…but then I’d have to kill you.” She laughs. Another easy score. “So, no serious relationships for you. Does that mean you’re a strictly casual sex kind of girl?”
Her cheeks flame beet red. And I remember how she froze up when my hand wandered. Holy shit. Could she be? But that’s not possible, is it?
“Earlier, did I go too far? Did I make you feel uncomfortable? I would never want to force you to do something you aren’t comfortable doing.” Attempting to remove her shirt was a dumbass, wrong move.
An air of determination envelops her. “I’m not…I don’t…” She flattens her hands on her thighs and spreads her fingers out wide, then starts over. “I don’t show people my chest. My scar is…” She wiggles her fingers and huffs. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not…we aren’t. Let’s just talk about something else.”
Her cheeks are flaming red. Her eyes are dark as night, and they seemingly merge with her pupils.
“You think I don’t have scars? I’ve been in the military for over a decade. I’ve got scars that I don’t even remember how I got them. I’ve got buddies who’ve lost limbs. You think they don’t deserve love?”
“No.” She blinks rapidly and stares straight at me like she needs me to believe her. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I’ve got some nasty scars on my back. Don’t bother me much ’cause I can’t see them, but they’re fucking there. From an infection. Look below my knee. Spread that leg hair.” She looks where I tell her, but her hand doesn’t come near my leg. I bend forward and point. “See this white line? Machete. One hundred and fifteen stitches.”
“Someone took a machete to you?”
“Yeah. Me. Dumbass move.” I point to a series of scars on my forearm. “Dog bite. I was eight. Sweetheart, you live long enough, chances are you’re going to have scars.”
