“Makenna,” I repeated, smiling because the unusual name fit her. “Mak.”
“I know, it’s boring. Now, tell me yours.”
“Han Solo,” I answered honestly and went back to staring at my plate instead of her. “Stupid nickname.”
“Hmm,” she hummed next to me, a smirk firmly planted on her pouty lips. “Let me think.” She tapped her bottom lip, taunting me. “Nicknames always have meaning.”
“Drop it,” I told her, pushing her plate closer to her. “You don’t want your fries to get cold.”
“You’re wicked with a sword?” She raised an eyebrow.
I shook my head as I grabbed my burger and took another big bite.
She studied me for a moment, her eyes roaming my face. “Han Solo,” she whispered so softly, I barely heard her.
She was cute in that moment. A side of her I hadn’t seen since the second I’d laid eyes on her. There was a hardness to her, a toughness most women didn’t have, no matter how hard the military tried to drill it into them. But Mak, she was different. She was raised differently, and without knowing a damn thing about her parents, I knew someone had to be military.
The navy had given me discipline. Something I’d been lacking most of my life. I could easily spot a military brat from a civilian after just a few words. They carried themselves differently.
“Did you get caught jackin’ off or something?” she asked.
The cheeseburger which had started its journey down my throat became lodged. I choked, pounding on my chest, trying to clear the dry-ass piece of beef to move down and allow me to breathe again.
“Oh. My. God.” She laughed, covering her mouth. “You got caught, and that’s why they call you Han Solo.” She made a motion with her hand like she was stroking a cock.
None of which made swallowing, breathing, or not losing my shit any easier. “Fuck no,” I choked out between gasps, pounding harder on my chest to the point I was going to leave a bruise.
“You so fucking did,” she argued, still laughing at my misery.
“Stop.” I held up my hand, needing her to stop so I could catch my breath. “That’s not what happened.”
She crossed her arms, lifting her chin with a twinkle in her eyes. “Then tell me, because right now, I’m sticking with my hypothesis.”
I cleared my throat, buying time and hoping something else would happen to get us off the topic of my nickname. I’d always hated it. It was stupid and embarrassing, but nowhere near as bad as being caught masturbating as she’d assumed.
“So,” I said, coughing once more when no rescue came. “It was right after A school, and my girlfriend had moved near the base to be closer to me.”
Mak rolled her eyes. “Weak,” she muttered.
I held up a finger. “We’d dated on and off for about six months, and I didn’t think we were that serious. But she thought otherwise and followed me.”
The single sentence earned me a gag from Mak. “I mean, you’re not bad looking, but…”
I narrowed my eyes and continued. “Anyway, I was out with my friends, having a few beers, kind of like tonight.”
“We’re not friends.”
“I know,” I growled, throwing up my hand. “You want to hear this or not?”
She grabbed another fry and held it up, waving the long stick in the air. “I seriously like my explanation better. So, if you don’t want to continue, you can stop now.”
I shoved her arm, moving the fry toward her lips. “Eat and be quiet for two goddamn minutes.”
“I hit a chord with someone.” She giggled, but finally relented, placing the food in her mouth, giving me a moment of silence.
“Sissy comes storming into the bar.” I glanced around, realizing the main event happened right here in almost the same exact spot.
“Wait,” Mak said, clutching her chest with that damn smirk back on her lips. “You dated a chick named Sissy?”
