Page 90 of Loving a Warrior

“That means everything coming from you.”

Matt looked down, then took a deep breath. “So will you go out with me tonight?”

“Ah, babe.” His eyes darkening, Shane swallowed hard. “I actually have my timed physics test on Monday, and I’d already planned to study tonight with some of the guys.”

Disappointment rose into Matt’s throat, almost choking him, but he didn’t let go of Shane’s hand. “Well, the agreement was SEALs first, right?” he croaked. “Guess we gotta walk the walk, not just talk a good game.”

“Yeah.” Shane’s voice was quiet. “But it means a lot that you asked me. More than you know.”

With one final squeeze of their fingers, Matt let go of him and straightened. “Well, pass that fucking test and we’ll celebrate afterward. Okay?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Shane pursed his lips in a silent kiss, and Matt winked at him before backing away from the car. He watched until his taillights disappeared off into the distance, then turned to trudge toward his room. Once there, he took a long, hot shower and stretched out on his bed, hoping to grab a quick nap.

Trey banged in and out, declaring he was off to spend the weekend with some girl he’d met while waiting in line at Chipotle over their holiday break. “We just hit it off, man. What can I say?”

“Have fun.” Amused, Matt hucked a shoe at him in lieu of goodbye, then stacked his hands under his head, managing to doze a little before it was time to get dressed and meet the guys.

He pulled on some jeans and a white tee, topping it off with his favorite denim shirt, unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. A quick brush of his teeth, his wallet and phone slipped into pockets, and he was ready.

The night was chilly but not unbearably cold. As he made his way toward the small group of men milling around on the sidewalk, he pasted a fake smile on his face, but once he’d actually joined them, he was able to relax, determined to have fun.

“Pauly said he can borrow a van,” Aaron told him just as a set of headlights glowed in their direction and a vehicle screeched to a halt.

“You got us mommy’s minivan?” someone called out disgustedly as Pauly, at twenty-one the youngest guy in the class, hopped out and tossed the keys to Matt.

“You a beggar, Joe?” Pauly retorted back to him. “Yeah, that’s right. Then don’t be fuckin’ choosy.”

The hoots and insults flowed fast and thick as everyone piled in, sprawling across the seats, not bothering with seat belts.

“Don’t park this thing anywhere close to the fuckin’ club,” Joe yelled up to Matt, who was waiting for everyone to get situated before heading out. “Don’t want hot girls seein’ me in it.”

By the time they located the place and Matt found an “acceptable” parking spot at the curb a couple of blocks away, his jaw hurt from being clenched with annoyance. The guys tumbled out of the van like a litter of rambunctious puppies, pushing and shoving, eager to get to the booze, the dancing and the girls.

Thumping music could be heard long before the club building itself came into view. Neon lights mounted on the outside flashed and darted around, and a spotlight waved up into the sky. A velvet rope held the queue of would-be patrons lined up neatly down the sidewalk, the line itself wrapping around the corner. Professional-looking bouncers in tight black T-shirts and khaki pants roved up and down, keeping an eye on the throng.

Aaron led their group confidently past the crowd and right up to the front door. Matt kept his expression impassive as people eyed them—a group of loud and extremely fit guys cutting to the front of the line was sure to attract attention. There was a combination of hostility, curiosity and interest on most of the faces he could see, both female and male alike.

Whatever Aaron told the bouncer in charge of the door obviously worked its magic, because they were ushered directly inside, past the cashier taking cover charges and up a flight of plush stairs to what looked to be a VIP balcony overlooking the dance floor. The music was slightly more muffled up here, to Matt’s enormous relief.

“Hey, man.” A tall redheaded guy came up to clasp Aaron’s hand and pull him into a backslapping hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it! Congrats, dude,” Aaron yelled exuberantly, then turned to the group, arm around the redhead’s shoulders. “Guys, this is my good buddy Rhys Halloran, a friend of mine since kindergarten. That’s the only reason I can ignore the fact he’s now an Air Force weenie.”

“Weenie. Right.” Rhys slapped Aaron on the back of his head, hard. “Better that than a fuckin’ psycho killer.”

It was no secret Aaron wanted to be a sniper once he got to the teams. He shrugged. “It’s a true fact that violence sometimes does solve your problems.”

“And I’ll be the one who parachutes in to save your ass when you fuck everything up.”

Still bickering with Aaron, Rhys led the group over to a conversation pit full of overstuffed couches. As Matt sank into a nearby chair, he looked Rhys over with renewed interest. From his statement, he must be a pararescueman, the Air Force’s contribution to special ops. They were specialists in combat casualty care, inserted behind enemy lines to treat and rescue downed pilots or wounded soldiers.

When Rhys got to Matt for an introduction, Matt gaped at his leaf-green eyes, pale, freckled skin and red-gold hair. He was fuckin’ gorgeous, not to mention a total badass by trade.

Matt mumbled a shy hello, basking in the warmth of Rhys’s answering grin. After releasing his grip on Matt’s hand, Rhys turned to the woman who’d come up beside him to thread her arm through his. She was tall, and curvy, wearing a tight club logo tank top and white shorts that set off her long, tanned legs.

“Everyone,” Rhys called out, “this is Lani. My love, my life, and as of this afternoon…my fiancée!”

At Rhys’s proud words, Lani lifted her left hand to display a sparkling engagement ring. “This dude took me totally by surprise,” she declared. “Asked me in front of his entire platoon. Way to put me on the spot, you know?”