Page 27 of Loving a Warrior

“Man, you look like shit,” Trey croaked with a commiserating smirk. “Even pastier than usual.”

Matt huffed, eyeing Trey’s black skin, which was coated with salt and grit. “And you’re bringing half the fucking beach into our room.”

Bickering amicably, they pulled themselves up the stairs. “First day’s the hardest,” Trey said as Matt unlocked their door. “I mean, they’re all hard, but if you can get through this first Monday, you can get through the rest. They won’t hammer us quite this much from now on, but it’s the cold that’s gonna get to you, wear you down.”

Matt gave a shudder at the memory of the day’s relentless surf torture. Almost all the guys who DORed that day, six in all, had quit after being ordered back into the sea yet again. Matt had never experienced cold like this before, and being from North Dakota, that was saying something. This was…different. It was cruel, it went bone deep, and it served to demoralize their group more than any physical exercise ever could.

In the bathroom, Matt stripped off his damp, sandy uniform and kicked it into a pile before unloading the rest from his duffel. Each evolution meant a uniform change, so even though training was done for the day, he still had laundry to do, boots to polish, equipment to clean—they’d all be lucky if they got to sleep before midnight.

After showering and changing into some jeans and a T-shirt, Matt grabbed a laundry basket and headed for the barracks laundry, only to see guys already lined up three deep waiting for machines. He groaned to himself. Make that two a.m. before he’d see his bed.

Resigned to wait, Matt caught a glimpse of Shane lurking along the edges of the group, circles under his eyes, his face drawn with exhaustion. The small laundry room smelled of sweat and seawater, and the loud chatter and laughter echoing off the ceiling felt like it was piercing Matt’s skull. God, what he wouldn’t give for a few hours of fucking peace and quiet. Maybe he should just try to find a laundromat off-base. Matt grimaced at the thought of kids running around, maybe having to make small talk with strangers.

Ugh. That’d be worse than waiting here.

Suddenly a crazy idea popped into his head, and propping his laundry basket on his hip, Matt picked his way through the crowd over to where Shane was slumped against the opposite wall.

“I’ll give you a ride to your house,” Matt said to him breathlessly, “if I can use your washing machine.”

Shane grinned, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t long until they eased to the curb in front of Shane’s house, which was all lit up, and Matt recognized Alexis’s car in the driveway.

He hesitated. “Will your sister mind—”

“Nah. The baby’s in bed, or I would’ve called her to come pick me up for just this reason. I don’t wanna wait all night to do my fucking laundry either.” Shane got out of the truck and slammed the door. “Let me just make sure she’s decent first.”

He disappeared into the house, not thirty seconds later beckoning to Matt from the porch. Matt grabbed his stuff and followed him inside, where Shane introduced him to Alexis. Her expression was welcoming as she shook his hand.

“Laundry room is in the back there, so help yourself. I’ll make you boys some spaghetti while you wait. How’s that sound?”

“Like heaven. Thanks, Lex.” Shane wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

Matt declined Shane’s offer of a beer, then went out to the backyard to shake the sand from his clothes before tossing everything into the washer. When he returned to the kitchen, Shane was sprawled at the dining room table, already on his second beer from the looks of it. He shot Matt a lazy, relaxed grin. “Have a seat, Soup. Sure you don’t want a Corona?”

“I’m sure.” Matt smiled gratefully at Alexis when she handed him a huge glass of cranberry juice instead. As he sipped it, he studied her, deciding that the Hovland family genes were something else. Alexis wasn’t as tall as Shane, but she was just as beautiful, with the same amazing blue eyes. Her blond hair was caught up in a messy bun, some strands here and there falling down to frame her face.

“Are you Shane’s roommate, Matt?”

Matt gave an exaggerated shudder when he noticed Shane smirking at him. “Hell, no.”

“Ah.” Alexis laughed. “Shane has that effect on people. They either want to kiss him or punch his lights out, there’s no in between.”

How about both? He covered up the disturbing thought by kicking Shane hard under the table. “He’s a clown, that’s for sure.”

Shane flipped him the bird even as he lashed his foot out to kick him back. Matt jerked to the side to avoid it, bumping the table and causing his juice to slosh.

“Wow, can’t take you anywhere,” Shane said in disgust while Matt mumbled apologies to Alexis, who handed him some paper towels.

“No worries. It’s kinda nice to have a kitchen full of idiotic men again.” She turned away, but not before Matt caught the look of sadness that flitted over her face. He glanced at Shane, who was watching her, his eyes solemn and tinged with worry.

A short, uncomfortable silence fell, not broken until Alexis placed huge helpings of spaghetti and crusty garlic bread in front of them. “Eat up, boys!”

No need for a second invitation. Across from him Shane slurped his noodles noisily and earned himself a whack on the head by Alexis. “Caveman,” she said in disgust.

Shane only grinned at her, strands of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth, sauce on his chin. He glanced at Matt. “Sisters.” Despite his annoyed tone, his eyes held a mixture of tenderness and amusement, and there was a softness on his face that tugged on Matt’s heart. The two of them really loved each other.

“Wow,” he muttered when he got up to carry his plate to the sink. “Talk about eating you out of house and home. Sorry. And thanks. It was delicious.”