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He cracked an eye open and smiled at her. “Me, too.”
They floated for hours, alternating between animated conversation and a comfortable silence as they soaked up the sun. Now and then, they would pass under a bridge or an overpass where groups of people stood waving and cheering at the river-goers.
Connelly eventually surrendered to the lull of the sun and water. He fell asleep with his head tipped back against the tube, mouth slightly open in a picture of perfect relaxation that made Veronica chuckle as she snapped a photo with her phone.
That was prime blackmail material right there, which she’d definitely be showing to his next girlfriend.
A quick, sharp pain speared through her chest at the thought of him having a girlfriend. She blinked, surprised at the sudden sting of jealousy. Where the hell had that come from? She’d never thought of Connelly as anything more than her friend.
Her best friend.
Nothing more.
So she just had to banish all of these other weird thoughts about him out of her head.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, Veronica nudged his tube gently with her foot. He woke with a start, tipping himself into the water and splashing her. He lunged for the tube before it could escape, then hung on the side and rubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the water.
“What the...?” he mumbled. “Did I doze off?”
“Yeah, you did.” She nodded toward the riverbank, where everyone was pulling their tubes ashore. “And this is our stop.”
Disappointment flickered over his face. “Ah, damn. I’m not ready for it to end.”
She wasn’t either. She hated the thought of parting ways with him and returning to her quiet apartment alone, and she brooded on the thought as they packed the tubes and cooler back into her truck.
“Hey, Martens!”
She looked up at the familiar voice and smiled at the three men approaching them. Captain Blake Edwards had become a good friend since she was stationed at Lackland. He always traveled with his entourage—Lieutenant Mason Foster and Lieutenant Tyler Bennett. She didn’t know them as well, but she did consider them friends, too, and thought it unfair that people on base called them The Three Stooges behind their backs.
She waved them over, intent on introducing Connelly. “Hey, guys! Get a float in today?”
“Sure did. Wait. Jesus, is that Draft Dodger Davis?” Mason grinned and reached out to clap his palm to Connelly’s. “Hey, man. Haven’t seen you in years.”
Connelly laughed and greeted each man with more hand slaps. “Edwards, Foster, Bennett. You guys haven’t changed a bit.”
“I’d say you look like hell, Drafty, but that wouldn’t be giving hell enough credit,” Tyler said, earning him a playful shove from Connelly.
The men laughed.
Veronica stared at the four of them in surprise. “Wait. You guys know each other?”
“Hell, yeah, we do,” Mason said. “We deployed with Drafty... when was that? 2016?”
“Sounds about right,” Connelly confirmed.
Blake wagged a finger in the air between them. “How do you two know each other?”
“Childhood friends,” they said simultaneously, and then, “Jinx,” also at the same time, just like when they were kids.
Blake glanced back and forth between them, and his smile dimmed just a little. “Huh. Small fucking world, isn’t it?”
“This is awesome,” Tyler said, looping an arm around her shoulders and then Connelly’s. “Our favorite PJ and our favorite pilot. We’re headed back to the city to hit the clubs. You guys wanna join?”
She looked at Connelly. He stared back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Was he hoping she said yes?
“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, sure.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, disappointment flickered in his gaze before he hid it behind a smile. “Sounds fun.”
