Page 107 of Keeping a Warrior

Luckily the grumpy nurse wasn’t on duty at the hospital, and the one who was understood that the SEALs wouldn’t be denied entry into Shane’s room. She stood back and graciously waved them in.

Shane looked better, his face less puffy, his eyes a little brighter. “They’re gonna med-flight me to San Diego by the end of the week,” he announced. “And no, nobody needs to go AWOL to stay with me.” He smiled at Matt, who glared back at him.

Rhys could relate. If it was Devon in that hospital bed, it’d take an earthquake to pry him loose.

In the end, Matt caved to Shane’s entreaties for him to leave.

“Don’t risk jail just to sit here and watch me sleep, Soup,” he said firmly. “I’ll be home before you know it. Besides, you need to finish wiring the surround sound in the bedroom.” He shrugged. “I was gonna hire some other guy to do it, but—”

“What? I can do it better than some random dude off the street can!”

“So go do it. Have it ready for me when I get home.”

Rhys had to marvel at Shane’s skill in handling his worried, recalcitrant boyfriend. It was a skill that came from a deep understanding of Matt’s needs, of what made him tick. He thought he and Devon had that, too, and Rhys was eager to see it deepen and grow.

Despite Matt’s assurances he couldn’t wait to get home so he could have everything ready for Shane, it still took every ounce of Devon’s persuasive powers to convince him to leave the hospital and get on the plane.

Once onboard, she stuck close to him.

Just looking at Matt’s face, Rhys could understand why; it was apparent the poor dude was on the verge of losing his shit at having to leave Shane behind.

Making himself comfortable on a nearby pallet, Rhys alternated between watching a movie and watching Devon, who was available when Matt wanted to talk, and a comforting presence when he didn’t.

At last Matt fell asleep, and with a groan and a stretch, Devon pushed to her feet and made her way toward Rhys’s perch to lean against it. “Hey, you think we could have a serious talk when we’re home and settled?”

The words serious talk normally would’ve sent a bolt of fear straight through him, but there was something in her tone...

Hope surged. Maybe she wouldn’t be leaving without at least a commitment to try to see where this led.

“Of course,” he said, reaching out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I can’t wait.” His heart soared even higher when she leaned in for a kiss before returning to Matt’s side. Lying back in a lovesick haze, Rhys at last succumbed to the hum of the plane and drifted off to sleep himself.

Wheels skidding on the tarmac jolted him awake.

“We’re in Maine,” Smudge informed him on the way to the head, still groggy from Ambien. “Refueling stop.”

When Rhys woke the next time, they were landing in Coronado.

The hydraulic squeal of the ramp was loud as it lowered, revealing a slice of bright blue sky scudding with clouds. Rhys rolled off his pallet and hurriedly gathered his things. Before he could head toward Devon, Aaron intercepted him.

“Dude, I really need to talk to you about Lani—”

“Not now,” Rhys said brusquely. “Whatever it is, it can wait. You know she and I are through.”

“Halloran...”

Devon was already off the plane, so Rhys brushed past Aaron and jogged down the ramp after her. The bright sunlight blinded him for a moment, and cursing, he dug around in his ruck for some sunglasses. Slipping them on, he immediately searched for Devon, the loud cheers from assembled family members waiting on the edge of the tarmac annoying him and making his head throb.

He finally spotted her, frozen midstep and staring at something off in the distance. Swinging around impatiently to look, too, the bottom of Rhys’s stomach dropped to his toes, nausea rushing through him in a sickening wave. “Oh, my God.”

Aaron walked up behind him and gripped his shoulder. “Tried to warn you, man. Tried to fucking warn you.”

Convinced he was in the midst of a terrible dream, Rhys stared disbelievingly at the cheering, fist-pumping, video-taking crowd. A crowd that Lani stood at the front of, wearing his favorite yellow sundress despite the chill in the air, holding high a fuchsia sign with heart-shaped balloons attached to it.

A sign which read, in big block letters, LET’S TRY AGAIN!

He swore loudly and viciously, and fear made his knees weak as he whirled toward Devon, his voice pleading. “I swear I had no idea. I don’t want this—”

He broke off when Devon strode toward him, grabbed him by the hand and tugged him back into the plane out of sight. “Rhys, you have to go to her,” she said steadily. “You can’t leave her like this and embarrass her in front of her friends.”