So…if anything ever happens to me, Shy, find the recording. It’s on my phone and I’ll make a few copies, as well. Find the recording and take it to the authorities, along with this journal.
“THIS WAITING IS DRIVING ME CRAZY.”I stepped off the treadmill and wiped the sweat from my neck, eying Brodie across the room at the Fitflex. We had fallen into a routine over the past several days, consisting of eating, working out, eating again, reading or watching television, more eating, and sex. Lots and lots of sex. My cheeks heated as I recalled an hour or so earlier, when Brodie had bent me over the pool table and had his wicked way with me.
To his credit, I didn’t think once of sending the cue ball into his nuts or nose.
But it wasn’t enough. I was on a precipice, waiting for something to either push me over or pull me back to safety. I wanted life to be ordinary again, even if it wasn’t back on base in Texas. After four years in the Army, I craved routine and knowing what came next. This uncertainty was slowly killing me.
Brodie grunted as he let the tension weight he was holding release and stood, swinging his arms up and into a stretch. Saliva filled my mouth as I watched the play of muscle along his chest and arms, and I made myself swallow and lift my eyes to his face. He was watching me with a knowing glint in his eye.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to make sure you at least have a good time.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Having a good time?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I shook my head. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snipe. You don’t deserve that.”
Brodie uncapped the water bottle sitting on the pool table and took a long pull. “No, it’s okay.” He stepped over to me and tipped my chin up with his forefinger, waiting for me to look at him before he pressed a brief kiss to my mouth. The tangy scent of man and light sweat filled my nostrils and I found myself breathing deep, loving the way that scent surrounded me. “I know it hasn’t been very long, but this is definitely more than just a good time, Em.”
My chest squeezed at his confession and I curled my fingers against the hard planes of his chest. I felt the same. Everything was happening so fast and it was insane to be attached to someone I’d known roughly two weeks, but God, did I feel the same. It was so hard to make myself say the words, though. A lifetime of restraining myself, of watching my step, ofbeing careful not to break any more flower arrangements…that lifetime clogged my throat and made admission difficult. I stared at my hands on his chest.
“Macushla?”
Macushla.His pulse. His darling. I swallowed. “I’m not going to say I love you,” I blurted. “I don’t say that. But I think…damnit. I feel the same fucking way.”
“Is it really that terrible?” Brodie gave a little huff of humor and circled my waist with his arms. “You sound as though someone’s making you eat shite.” A reluctant smile tugged at my lips.
“You’re a little better than shit.” Sighing, I dropped my forehead to his chest, unmindful that I was getting sweat on me. “I’m sorry. I kind of suck at this.”
“No! Say it isn’t so.” He pulled back to look at me again. He was always doing that, making us look at one another when we spoke about anything significant. It stripped me bare, left me defenseless. “We’ll suck together, then, how’s that?”
I was just martialing my nerve to answer with something flirty about sucking when the phone buzzed, and Brodie broke away from me with a groan to answer it. His expression shifted after a second and he handed it to me.
“Hello?”
“Cotton. You know I don’t get mad often.”Oh, shit. I knew this would happen. It was Shiloh, her voice choked with tears.“But I amfuriousnow. I am…vibrating, I am so mad.” I pictured her pacing, her free hand waving.
I sighed. Tried. “Shy—”
“No. Don’t you even. You don’t get to mail me some...fucking llama notebook and tell me this awful thing and then…apologize!”
I sat down on the treadmill, resigning myself to a reaming by my best friend. Words penetrated here and there.…run away…not tell me…fucking bastard…She hiccupped and ranted and scolded until she finally ran out steam.
“I get it. And I know I scared you by disappearing, and even though I didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter, I’m sorry.”
When she replied her voice was slightly calmer. “I’m only slightly pissed about that. Cotton…why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you trust me enough to help you through this? I knew something was wrong. And the fact that you wanted to die...that is not okay, Cotton! I’m so angry with you! You should have—” Gunner’s voice said something in the background, and she cut herself off abruptly. “I’m just sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Your heart is too big, Shiloh, and now you’re hurting because I was hurt. I don’t want you to hurt. I’ve done enough of that for both of us. So, can we just...acknowledge? And move on?”
Shiloh sniffed. “Yes. But only if you promise to never withhold like that again.”
“Done.”
“And only if you promise we are going on a testicle hunting expedition when this other matter is done. Gunner says he’s in.”
“Absolutely.”
“I love you, Cotton, even when you piss me off.”
“I love you more, Shy. And I’m better. I promise. Brodie is…he’s been good for me.” I eyed him where he stood across from me.
There was a sniff and then a heavy sigh. “I’m really glad. So much so that I hate…ah, hell. Babe, there’s more.”
