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I had bumped Ciara in the chin with my elbow.
“Oh, baby.” I cradled her chin. “I’m sorry.”
She pouted and rubbed her face.
I turned her face to catch the light. Her eyes were droopy with sleep. “You, okay?”
“Yeah.” She pushed my hand away and rubbed her chin. “Are you okay?”
I reached across Ciara to grab my phone. It was 11:00 p.m.
I sighed and dropped the phone on the bed. I rubbed my face. It smelled of Ciara’s pussy. The whole room smelled of sex and greasy food. The tray from dinner remained pushed up against the bed.
“I think we should clean up a little.” I lifted her arm and sniffed her armpit.
“Ew.” She pushed me away. “That’s so gross.”
I chuckled.
“What happen before when you woke up? I could feel panic wafting off you.” She rolled on to her back and stretched.
I ran my hand down her taut body. “I thought I slept through the night.”
She lifted up on her elbows. “That’s cute.”
“What’s cute?” I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. I wiped the crust from my eyes and stood up. Clothes were strewn around the floor. I surveyed the room. It made my heart speed up and it was hard for me to take a deep breath. I pushed the food cart toward the door.
I looked down at my cock swinging between my legs. I stopped and grabbed my shorts from the ground and slipped them on. I peeked at Ciara. “What’s so cute?” I asked again.
“You thinking you had missed our time together.” She scooted to the near side of the bed and sat with her hand under her chin, leaning forward with her legs crossed like she was posing for a photo. “Well, there’s a good way to remedy that.”
“I could not leave.” I chuckled and pushed the cart outside the door.
“Or you can take me with you.”
I stopped and stood straight up. My head whipped around to catch her face as she realized what she’d said. She pushed her hair behind her ear and stood up. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”
“Ciara.”
“Forget I said anything.” She waved it away like she was swatting at gnats. “I’m going to jump in the shower.” She high-stepped it across the room like the floor was covered in hot coals. She shut the bathroom door behind her. The resounding click of the lock made my heart ache.
“Fuck,” I grunted under my breath. I cleaned up the room. I picked up the clothes off the floor and put them in a neat pile. I picked up her dress and hung it in the closet next to the few items I’d brought with me. We’d never fucked under the covers, the top sheet had noticeable sex stains. I took it off the bed and balled it up and placed it outside the door.
I listened for the water to turn on, but it never did. With nothing else to clean, I grew antsy. I wanted to bang on the door, break it down to get back to her, make her understand how much she meant to me. It had crossed my mind to have her come to Pendleton with me. Set her up like the other military wives and girlfriends. I had off-base housing, a cute little bungalow on the beach. Sparsely furnished and no personal items. I had thought more than once what kind of touches Ciara would add to it to make it a home.
The thought of coming home from a mission with her waiting for me had crossed my mind. Especially lately. Bishop’s voice haunted me, now for real because he was dead and would never get out of my head.
Don’t make my sister a military wife. Don’t make her worry about you when you’re gone, take care of you when you get injured or worse, have some strangers come and tell her you’re missing in action or dead. Don’t put that on Little Tree. It’s bad enough we must live with that constantly running through our brains.
He wasn’t wrong to ask, but it was premature of me to make that promise. Now, I couldn’t break it. “Fuck him for dying on me.” I shook my head and stomped toward the bathroom door. I raised my hand but stopped short of pounding on it. I pressed my hand against it instead.
“Little Tree?” I turned and sat next to the door with my back to the wall. “Answer me,” I demanded.
“What do you want?” Her voice came through the crack below the door. She was sitting to.
“I thought you were taking a shower.” I softened my tone.
“I am.”
