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How was he supposed to figure out how to be a good boyfriend to Renzo if Renzo wanted to keep things on the down low? And yet, even with the doubts, even with Renzo acting distant, he knew he’d be counting down the hours until Renzo texted.

Chapter Seventeen

“Give me a jump any day.” Renzo was not the most enthusiastic about the dives they were undertaking with the aid of one of the SEAL boat teams. He was a strong swimmer and understood the mechanics of diving as well as anyone else on the team, but he wasn’t crazy about the actual diving, the scuba masks and oxygen and rebreathers and all that.

“Hey, at least we’re doing something,” Curly reminded him. “You want more inventory duties?”

“Point taken.” Renzo adjusted his mask and waited for the signal to reenter the water. They were in all black gear, including their hoods and masks, looking like some sort of twenty-third-century space villains. They were practicing shallow dive maneuvers with the MK 25—a rebreathing device worn on the front of their torsos that filtered their exhales for carbon dioxide and eliminated expelled bubbles. A big part of the exercise was simply maintaining all their gear—they were expected to carry their fins as well as locked and loaded firearms along with other gear as they emerged from the water in the target zone. Each person on the team had a specialized role and special gear to be responsible for.

For this exercise, Renzo and Shiny were responsible for some demolition equipment that was bulky and after enough rounds of practice, his arms burned and his back ached and he was more than ready when the LT gave the order to head in.

“Bianchi.” The senior chief came over to where Renzo was sitting on the boat. “You do okay today?”

“Yes, sir.” No way was he admitting that the week had been a struggle, readjusting to being on duty after the surreal camping experience. He’d had to settle for little more than text messages and a few phone calls with Canaan between his schedule and Canaan’s work and school, and that was weird too, going from not knowing someone to missing him like he’d miss his arm when Canaan wasn’t around.

And no, visiting Smoothie Palace with his teammates fast on his heels did not count as seeing Canaan. God, that was miserable, everyone teasing him, and him afraid they’d scare off Canaan, who probably wasn’t used to the level of teasing guys on the teams got up to. It was something else as well, something strange where the person he was around Canaan was not the guy he was on the teams, and the intersection of those two realities was just...freaky. But they’d made plans to meet up that evening for dinner, and he was counting down the hours until they could be alone.

“I haven’t heard anything on your requests.” The senior chief lowered his voice. “And I’m not sure what impact recent activities might have on the jumpmaster application, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Thank you, sir.” Well. Hell. Renzo had almost forgotten about his request to transfer to an East Coast team. And it had never occurred to him that getting stranded hiking could be viewed negatively by the higher-ups, but then again, they looked at everything when deciding who got tapped for advancement.

No way was he telling Canaan about the transfer request or the possible impact of the hiking ordeal. Canaan had already heaped enough guilt on his shoulders about what had happened. Renzo didn’t need to add to his burden. And as for the transfer, it probably wasn’t going to happen. He’d put in for it before and been kept at Coronado, so chances were high it would come to nothing. And this...whatever he had going with Canaan was too new, too fragile to bring up the idea of distance. And despite everything, he didn’t want to ruin it, wanted to see where this thing went.

Back at the barracks, he showered and was getting dressed when his phone rang. It was his mother, who seemed to think that daily check-ins were the best way to ensure that Renzo didn’t go missing again.

“Hey, Ma.” Better he answer the call then let her call back when he was otherwise occupied with Canaan.

“There’s my hero. Another long day?”

“Yup. Dive training. And yes, I was safe,” he said to head off that line of conversation. “I’m heading out to meet a friend in a few, so I can’t talk too long.”

“The friend you were stranded with?” Her voice was cautiously curious. He’d only painted broad strokes about the weekend for his mother, nothing personal about what he felt for Canaan or what they’d been up to in private.

“Yeah. Canaan. He’s all right. You’d like him.”

“Funny you should mention that.” She laughed but all of Renzo’s muscles went O2 canister stiff. “Joe’s been obsessed with your ‘adventure’ as he calls it. Keeps asking about your friend.”

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