Page 76 of Loving a Warrior

“I’m not gonna try again.” Shane’s voice was low. “This is it for me, Soup.”

“Well, we’re gonna choose to think positive,” Matt snapped. “Hear me? You have two days to rest that muscle, and you’re gonna go before that board and convince those assholes to give you another chance. Then you crush that run. Visualize it all, step by step, from now until you cross that finish line. Picture yourself making it with time to spare.”

He heard Shane take a long, shuddering breath before saying, his voice much more calm, “Okay, I will. Thanks, Matt.”

“Don’t thank me, just do it.” With that, Matt hung up. He dropped down to sprawl flat on the rock again and sent a quick text: We’ll get through this together, okay?

A second later, Shane replied: Okay :) Now go get some sleep. You sound tired.

Matt clutched his phone to his chest, the very real possibility he might not see Shane again twisting his stomach up in knots. Same as with a DOR, guys bounced for performance would disappear back into the fleet almost before they could draw their next breath.

“I don’t want it to end like this,” Matt whispered fiercely. “Not like this.”

Praying his advice would work, that Shane would be able to pull off the impossible, Matt at last stumbled off to bed.

* * *

There were no such things as weekends off at La Posta. The morning following his conversation with Shane, Matt and his classmates were given a land-nav exercise that would also double as a glorified game of hide-and-seek.

“The cadre will be roaming around, watching,” Howe shouted. “If we spot you up on that mountain, you fail. Go get your gear together. You’ll need a ground shelter, and enough water and food for twenty-four hours.”

Once everyone was ready, they were driven in pickup trucks deep into the mountains and dropped by swim pairs at various points. Matt estimated he and Trey were pushed out at least twelve miles from camp.

“Anyone who cheats and follows the road back is outta my program,” Howe warned them all. “There’s no room on the teams for lazy assholes who try to game the system, and believe me, we’ll know if you try it. Good luck, gentlemen.”

Matt and Trey got to work, and by the time they stumbled into camp eighteen hours later, they were dirty, exhausted and elated to find they’d earned one of the top three times. Everyone made it back within the twenty-four-hour limit, and then Howe dropped a bombshell.

“Okay, that was your warm-up,” he informed them. “Now we’re gonna mix it up a little. Top finishers will be paired with low finishers, and you’re gonna do it all over again, this time for a grade.” He gave a smart-ass grin. “Now go replenish your gear.”

For the second go-round Matt was paired with a cocky dude named Cody, and he groaned inwardly. Cody was a solid performer, but his teamwork left a lot to be desired. Hardly anyone liked him.

“What if you find yourself stranded behind enemy lines with someone you can’t stand?” Howe asked the group. “SEALs by nature have strong personalities, and sometimes they don’t mesh well. It’s a fact of life. But when your lives depend on working together, you have to find a way to push past your differences. Load up!”

As the men scrambled for the pickups, Howe shouted, “You’ll have eighteen hours instead of twenty-four this time. And remember, it’s for a grade!”

By the time he and Cody staggered into camp with fifteen minutes to spare, Matt was stressed, furious and running on fumes. He checked in with Howe, stowed his gear and headed for the room he shared with Trey.

“How’d it go?” Trey peered up at him from where he was slumped on the edge of his cot, dirty and unshaven.

“Came this close to punching the little shit,” Matt grated. “Now I’m gonna go punch the speed bag instead.”

“Fuck yeah.”

He and Trey changed into workout gear and headed for the gym; no matter how Spartan the facilities were, there was always a gym. They spent a satisfying hour pummeling the equipment, then enjoyed a hot shower and yet another cold MRE. After that was some well-deserved rack time, and when Matt woke up, more or less refreshed, he checked his phone to find a voice mail from Shane. Horrified, he realized it was Tuesday morning and he hadn’t spared a single thought to his situation since he’d talked to him.

“What a great fucking friend,” he berated himself as he hurried to his rock, wondering if Shane was at this moment on his way back to a ship in the fleet.

Luckily the message got right to the point. “It’s gonna be okay, Soup.”

Matt slumped in abject relief as he continued, “They gave me one last chance and I ran it with almost a minute to spare. Thanks to you. I’d kiss you right now if I could.” Shane’s voice dropped low. “Like, I’d really, really kiss you. All over.”

His whole body flushing hot, Matt glanced around, but no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to him. The message ended there, so Matt thumbed out a quick text. Save it for Vegas, stud. Great news, though! Had no doubt.

No reply, but then, Shane would be in the middle of his own workday. Matt stowed his phone and headed off to get ready for the first evolution.

They ended up playing phone tag all throughout that week, until Matt finally reached him late Friday night.

“So you’re still there, huh?” he said by way of greeting.