“Drill Sergeant?” Alexander asked and then beganto laugh. “That explains the ‘deer in the headlight’ look fromyou.”
“No, Freckles doesn't do ‘deer in theheadlight’. I trained him better than that. That's his 'I'm gonnafuck you up' look.” He smirked when Ryan shook off his silence.
“Yeah, yeah. Y'all are so fucking funny. I knewI should have gotten out last year,” Ryan said.
“Listen to Mr. Ohio talkin' like a Texan. I likeit, Freckles.”
“You're gonna love this then.” Ryan smiled andflipped the former Drill Sergeant off. He didn't know what heexpected from Phillip, but laughter wasn't really that high on hislist of wanted reactions.
Ryan was convinced that the Army put somethingin everyone's water that made them act like teenage boys once theygot around their Former Drill Sergeants. He never EVER had an issuewith anyone else. Not even officers. Not like he had with Phillip.He changed the subject.
“Alexander, Patrick wanted me to ask if youwanted to come by the bar and meet some of our buddies? Kenneth andBrendon are both coming in.” He glanced at his watch. “Actually Ineed to get out of here now. I have to pick Brendon up at theairport. Kenny is driving in.”
“Yeah, I might do that,” Alexander said with alittle wave.
Phillip just smiled. He followed Ryan to hiscar. “So we're back to where we started. I'm kinda yoursuperior.”
Ryan didn't stop moving until he got to histruck. He didn't say a word. He unlocked the doors and then turnedto face Phillip, a wide smile sliding across his lips. “Yeah, kindasorta but not really.”
“But admit it, I can still order you around.That kinda turns you on,” Phillip said, stepping closer.
Ryan just smirked. He knew what Phillip wasdoing. Two could play at that game. He closed the distance untilthey were inches apart. “Just remember,SergeantGrabowski.You may be able to order me around, but we both know who makesyourprivatesstand atattention.” He evenlicked his lips. He did an about-face and got into his truck. Hecouldn't resist a look backwards. It was so worth it. Phillip stoodstock-still, not even blinking. Yes! Score one for Sgt.Freckles!
Ryan turned the key in the ignition and histruck roared to life. He had finally left Phillip speechless. Gohim! He was happy all the way to the airport in Killeen, at leastuntil he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and read thesimple text message.
prove it
Motherfucker! He wasn't even questioning how thefucker got his cell phone number. He was, after all, fucking God.Ryan cursed all the way to the gate where Brendon stood.
***
Brendon and Ryan entered ‘Fubar Bar and Grill’ acouple of hours later. ‘Fubar’ in Army terms stands for ‘Fucked upbeyond all repair.’ It was a phrase Ryan, Patrick and Brendon werevery familiar with. Ryan damn near pissed his pants when Patricktold him that was the name Mark was using for his bar.
“Fubar, that's the shit man! I fucking love thatname.” Brendon laughed. Brendon had changed a lot since basic. Helost his baby fat and grew hard muscles in all the right places.His blond hair was slightly longer but not much. He had a tight,white shirt on and tight-assed jeans. He looked good but he alsodidn't look like the twenty-three-year-old man he was. He lookedolder. His eyes were sharper. There wasn't an air of innocencearound him anymore. He was leaner, harder and in a lot of waysmeaner.
It sometimes made Ryan sad to see Brendon likethat but he was a grown man now. He had seen war and facedhardships that most men his age never dealt with.
“Fuck me. That's Furry?” Mark Connelly asked. Asmall grin played on his lips.
“Oh Shit!” Brendon squeaked. “Drill SergeantConnelly!”
Ryan laughed, happy to see that he wasn't theonly one with Drill Sergeant issues.
“It's just Mark now.” Mark smiled. “Patrick isupstairs grooming. For a man with so little hair he takes foreverto get pretty.”
“And for a fat old Drill Sergeant you talk a lotof shit!” came the raspy reply from the stairs.
“Watch it, lover boy. I know where you sleep.”Mark smirked and poured three beers.
“I ain't worried. You sleep there too. You fuckit up and guess who's sleeping in the wet spot...and it damn sureisn't me,” Patrick replied with a grin. “Fuck, Furry. Did you getbigger?” He gave Brendon a quick back-slapping hug.
“Nah, you just got shorter.” Brendongrinned.
“Yeah, fuck you buddy.” Patrick smirked. Hegrabbed the mug and slugged it back.
Brendon pulled out a pack of cigarettes and litone up.
“New habit?” Patrick asked and then bummed one.“Mark is like a woman. He doesn't mind smoking down here but Ican't fucking smoke at home. Dick.”
