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“I love you,” Connor said. “I do, man. I mean, dude, the fucking Army…”
“I know,” Weston said, his own eyes bleary. “Come on. Almost there.”
We made it to Connor’s room—the room he and I were to share. Ruby kissed her fingers and pressed them to my cheek. “G’night, friends. I’ll see you in about three hours.” She started down the hall to her room, putting her hand out for balance. “I swear to God, there’d better be coffee…”
Weston and I dragged Connor into his room and eased him down on the bed. His mouth hung open, and he snored wetly almost instantly.
Weston pulled off Connor’s shoes, and then he walked out, unspeaking.
I closed the door and followed him into the suite’s small sitting area and sank onto the small couch. A short silence fell. The celebrations were over. My heart clanged in my chest, a steady metronome of fear. Growing louder and louder with each passing second that brought Connor and Weston closer to tomorrow.
“Do you think he’ll be okay in the morning?” I asked. “He drank a lot. All day, actually.”
“It’ll be a long time before he can drink again,” Weston said. “He’ll dry out in the desert.”
“I’m scared for him,” I said, pulling my legs under me on the couch.
“I’ll watch out for him,” Weston said. “I promised I would.”
“And who watches out for you?”
“Connor,” he said. “The platoon. Myself. I’ll be okay.”
I looked to see him looking down at me in a way I’d never seen before. His blue-green eyes soft. His mouth, always a grim line, now slightly parted. His lips…
God, why am I staring at his lips?
“I’m scared for you, too.” My voice was small under the thrashing of my blood. I tore my gaze away, but my eyes were drawn right back to him when he spoke.
“You are? Scared for me?”
The tremor of vulnerability in his voice cracked my heart. Then his demeanor hardened again and he shook his head. “Don’t be.”
“How could I not be worried for you both?”
“We’ll be fine.” He snorted a dry laugh and leaned his hip at the edge of the couch and crossed his arms. “Connor will be more than fine. He lives a charmed life. The other guys will stick to him like glue, so his luck rubs off on them.”
“I wonder if he’ll have time to write to me.”
“Do you want him to?”
I nodded. “I need his letters to stay close to him. When we’re together, he’s not the same. I don’t get the same feeling from him as I do from his words. I don’t feel that electricity.”
I felt it now, though. And it was coming from two feet away. The air around Weston was always electric. A crackling force field that kept people away, fueled by his barbed tongue and acid wit. If I reached through it to touch him, no doubt I’d be shocked. It would hurt like hell.
But I want to try…
The thought sent a jolt through me. Why? Why was this happening? Why were my cheeks inflamed and my heart beating hard? I tried to force my alcohol-induced thoughts to go somewhere else, anywhere else but Weston.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Weston snapped.
I blinked to see him glaring back at me from the edge of the couch. I gripped a cushion for support.
“Sorry, I’m…a little wasted myself.”
“I’m going,” Weston said. “Night.” He strode to the door, but then froze with a hand on the knob. His back to me as he said, “Connor’s an idiot for not fucking you one last time before we ship out.”
The tone and language made my eyes flare. Weston turned around and his intense stare pinned me to the couch. Another jolt of electricity surged through me. I fought for words in the jumble of thoughts and emotions, soaked in tequila, each one more heated than the last.
