Page 54 of Loving a Warrior

After a moment Matt’s leg started jiggling up and down so fast Shane could feel the vibrations in the porch floor. “My team, uh, failed the dive practical tonight.” He swallowed, then forced out, “It was my fault.”

Oh, shit.

“What happened?”

“I fucking choked, okay?” Matt said harshly. “Being underneath that hull—” He shuddered visibly. “I got disoriented. I panicked. By the time Trey got me calmed down, it was too late. We came in way over the time limit.”

“Oh, man…” Shane didn’t know what to say. Failure wasn’t looked upon kindly in this business, and second chances were rare.

It pays to be a winner.

“So what does all this mean?” he asked cautiously. “Will you get to run the exercise again?”

Matt made a bitter sound. “They goon-squaded us, but yeah, we’ll get one more chance at it in a few days.”

Shane winced. Being on a goon squad was never a pleasant experience and usually meant punishing PT involving logs, water and sand.

“Okay. Well, think positive. Another chance is good, right? Now you know what to expect.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Matt’s leg jiggled faster. “I’m sorry. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, didn’t want to go for a run, so I came over here to think. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was up.” Shane’s throat tightened at the thought of Matt trusting him enough to come over, even if it was obvious that sharing his failure with Shane was hard on him. “What else are friends for?”

The silence that fell after that was deafening, and Shane clenched his fist on the arm of his chair, wishing he knew what Matt needed. At last he asked, “You hungry?”

Matt didn’t reply, but his eyes flicked over to Shane’s face and then away. He shrugged.

Relieved to be given something to work with, Shane leapt to his feet. “Wait just a sec.”

Back inside the kitchen, he quickly made him a thick pot roast sandwich and grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge.

“Thanks,” Matt mumbled when Shane handed him both. “I can’t remember the last time I ate.”

“Figured as much.”

Shane munched on an apple while Matt devoured the sandwich, washing it all down with the Gatorade. Finally he put his empty plate on the floor and leaned back in his chair with a soft belch, lacing his fingers over his stomach.

“Feel better?” Shane scooted his chair a little closer and put his hand tentatively on Matt’s knee.

“Yeah. The pot roast was good, hit the spot. You’re a good cook.”

Shane chuckled. “Nah, but thanks.” He squeezed Matt’s knee gently. “You gonna be okay?”

Matt bit his lip. “I think so. It’s just—”

“Just what?”

Matt tensed, so Shane ran his palm soothingly up and down his thigh.

“I’m not used to failing because I’m scared, Shane. Failing because I’m stupid? Fuck, yeah. But not scared.” His voice was rough with anger at himself. “I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Well, I’m terrified of heights.”

Matt turned to stare at him. “Really?”

“Yep. Hate flying, hate being up high. How do you think I’m gonna manage the airborne stuff? The first time we do a parachute jump, I’m gonna scream like a baby the whole way down. If I don’t piss myself first.” Shane squeezed his knee again. “Dude, we’re all afraid of something.”

Matt could only shake his head.