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And some things—so many things—changed too damn fast.
She ran from that thought by taking another huge chug of her “margarita”. Grimaced from the alcohol burn, despite expecting it this time. The men traded discomfited glances. Looked like she wasn’t the only perceptive one around here. She just prayed their protective dragon modes didn’t run as deep as Franz’s, and they’d really just let the cocktail be their offering to the TLC gods for now.
“So.” Kellan broadened his stance, burrowing both feet into the sand for extra support. “Speaking of douche nozzles…”
Tait really spat water now. “Really, man? That’s your lead?”
Kellan glowered. “What? When the boot fits, it fits.”
“And there are times when boots aren’t necessary at all.”
“So I’m supposed to pretend Franz wears glass slippers?”
As Kellan punctuated it with a pssshh and a grunt, Tracy gave in to flinging a tighter glare at them both. “What the living hell are you two talking about?” Or was she that bad at handling her tequila now?
Both soldiers froze. Blinked long and hard at her.
“You mean who we’re talking about,” Tait stated.
“Not that we’re talking about him, about him—like behind his back or shit,” Kellan added.
“Aw, hell no.” Tait snorted. “I’d say all this right to the big jerk’s face, only he’s a little busy right now.”
Tracy took a turn at the puzzled blinks. “Huh?”
“Damn.” Kellan’s shoulders sagged. He pinched his nose. “We’re making scrambled eggs out of this, dude.”
“And burning them,” Tait muttered.
“Well, I can’t even taste them yet,” Tracy intervened. “What…are you two…”
Before she could finish, Kellan heaved a huge sigh. Pushed his feet back together, raising his height by a couple of considerable inches again. “Look. We not be the most eloquent ambassadors on the planet…but the upshot here is…” He stopped, chomping on his lower lip. “Hell. What’s the upshot, T?”
Tait rubbed both hands on his to-the-knee board shorts. “Fine. I’ll just say it. So, Franzen—”
Tracy started. “What about him?”
Tait whooshed out a long breath. “Well, the deal is…”
“Oh, fuck it all,” Kellan muttered. “He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, okay?”
Tait helped him finish it off with a definitive nod—but after that, they both looked supremely relieved to let no sound pass except a new night breeze.
Only after the better part of a minute did Tracy sense they waited for her to say something. Shit, shit, shit.
“I—” she finally got out. “I don’t know what to—Oh, God.” The backs of her eyes burned again, feeding on the kindling of her composure, now toasty-dry due to the booze. A headache throbbed, but she still fought them with every force of will she still had. “No,” she choked. “You—you don’t understand. You…don’t…”
The only pain I crave isfrom him. To take for him. To please him…so that I can know him, and let him know me…
Don’t you see? Don’teither of you see?
It’s not him.
It’s not him.
It’s not him.
“No.” Tait stepped a little closer. Hesitated for one more second, before enveloping her in a heartfelt hug. “We do understand. We do, okay?”
