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I hold my hands up near my ears. “Sorry.”
I know there was probably judgment in my tone, but it wasn’t intentional. I don’t care what anyone else does, but my temper has been getting shorter recently. I fucking hate this time of year, and it has nothing to do with the threat of fall and seasonal depression.
Like always, it makes me think of Vaughn. Something I’ve been doing more and more of since joining Cerberus. Ending up here was always our goal. My obligation to the military was just that, an obligation. I got my nickname because every generation in my family, for as long as anyone could recall, had someone who served in the Marine Corps. My mother brags about being able to trace that lineage back to the birth of the Corps during the American Revolution. It was a given that I’d join, but I only wanted to serve my expected four years. This clubhouse was always my goal. Vaughn and I talked about it often. We had our futures planned out. Not once in the time leading up to us leaving for the Corps did I consider one of us wouldn’t make it. We left Broken Bow that day, right after graduation, with stars in our eyes, a naivety that lasted until the day our boots hit the sand in Qatar.
It only took a week before Vaughn confessed that he was terrified and that he made the wrong choice. He never blamed me. I don’t even know if he remembered that it was my idea and not his with how gung-ho he was about defending his country. We weren’t privileged to the politics and in-fighting until we were. None of that was mentioned by my father or my granddad. I don’t know if they unintentionally didn’t tell us when they were reliving those days through stories or if they purposely left it out in order to keep us in the dark. I felt betrayed by the men I looked up to. But after twelve years in the Corps, I realized that there are certain things you never talk about with others. There are things I know, things I experienced, that will never leave my lips. I know every man and woman in Cerberus feels exactly the same way.
“I bet we get to have one of the newer rooms,” Boomer says, rubbing his hands together.
“Think it’s required?” I ask, not looking forward to packing up all my stuff and moving it to the recent addition.
“Have you not used one of the showers in the new rooms?” Boomer asks, his cheeks pinking when Drake chuckles.
“You have?” I challenge, still a little delayed in understanding. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I thought you two were staying at Jake’s.”
Drake lives in the apartment above the bar, and Boomer stays there more often than he does here most nights.
“Not if we’re offered one of the new rooms here,” Boomer says. “Like I said, the showers are amazing.”
I turn my attention away from them as Drake leans closer and whispers something in his ear.
Happiness just pours out of people around here, and it makes me feel like my guilt and irritation just drags people down. I stand from the table, thinking that a few miles on one of the treadmills in the clubhouse gym sounds like a good idea.
“Didn’t mean to run you off,” Boomer says. “I did the plumbing in the bathrooms, remember? I had to make sure they were working correctly.”
I smile at him, wanting to apologize for making things weird, but I decide that would be even weirder.
“It’s all good,” I say before leaving the room, wondering if they’re going to think I have a problem with same-sex relationships with how I acted.
I don’t have a problem with anyone. I’m very live and let live. I always have been. Drake and Boomer’s relationship is no different from Kincaid and Emmalyn’s as far as I’m concerned. I’m glad for anyone who has found happiness. I’m also aware that I’ll never be one of those guys. It isn’t in the cards for me.
There was nothing sexual between Vaughn and me, but I loved that guy like a brother. Losing someone you love that much leaves wounds that never truly heal. I couldn’t put myself in a situation like that. I don’t know if I’d survive another loss like that.
Since I’m also the kind of guy who never wanted to just screw around with women, it’s posed a conundrum in my life. I have sex. I’m not celibate or anything. Hell, I’ve had one-night stands on occasion, but I’m not like Stormy whose whole view on women is that they’re fun and meant to go home at the end of the night.
I’m more likely to nurture a relationship. In the end, I always end up hurting people when I can’t fully commit. It’s quite possibly my worst character flaw. It makes me a wuss because I’m afraid of getting hurt.
