Even inside the restroom, that sense of relief never comes. I can still feel his gaze burning into the back of my head as I walk away.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with me?” I whisper to myself, splashing freezing cold water over my face at the sink. I stare at my reflection. “Pull yourself together!”
I dry my face and head back out to the main bar. Donovan is already back at our corner booth, passing out beers. I take mine and swallow a massive, cold gulp. Fuck, I’m going to need this tonight. I look around, but I can’t find him anymore. Maybe this whole magnetic connection is just entirely in my head.
“Sit the fuck down,” Logan shouts at me over his beer. Donovan eyes me suspiciously. “You good, Hayes?”
“Yeah,” I lie, sitting. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”
The table conversation carries on easily, focusing on our performance tonight. I try to focus, but the air in the booth suddenly shifts.
The Adonis of a man from the bar approaches our table. My breath catches as he reaches down and slides a single cookie across the wood, placing it directly in front of me.
“I see you,” his voice says. It’s sexy as fuck, deep, and he is staring straight into what feels like my actual soul.
The entire table instantly goes dead silent. Everyone’s eyes snap between the two of us. My heart stops beating. I have only ever told one single person in my entire life that I want to be seen, truly seen for who I am.
My breath hitches horribly. “Soldier?”
64
Ryan
I can feel my fucking heart hammering directly in my pants right now.
Leaning down slightly so only he can hear my voice over the ambient bar noise, I speak the words. “Ryan Carter. Special Forces. Call sign: Splash.”
Jackson just stares up at me, completely frozen.
“I hear these are the best,” I add, pointing directly down to the cookie resting on the table in front of him.
Please tell me I didn’t completely read this situation wrong.But holy fuck, this man is beautiful in person. Jackson doesn’t say anything immediately; his eyes wide, and a sudden spike of rejection hits me. Fuck, I did read the situation wrong. He’s uncomfortable.
“I’m going to go and get a drink,” I mutter quickly, turning away from him to head toward the safety of the bar.
Before I can even take a full step, hands wrap firmly around my forearm, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“Splash… please tell me it’s really you,” Jackson pleads, his eyes searching mine.
I look at him, my walls dropping slightly. “Yeah, Jackson. It’s me. Thought I’d come and say hi.” I can feel the heavy, overt stares from his teammates in the corner booth. “Erm, I’m not looking for any trouble.”
Jackson notices the direction I’m looking in and lets out a breathless laugh. “Come with me.” He gently but firmly pulls me by the arm, leading me straight back to the booth. “Guys, this is—”
Before he can even finish, Logan suddenly launches himself out of the booth. “Splash! Fuck, it’s good to finally meet you! We’ve heard so much about you!” Out of nowhere, he throws his arms around me, pulling me into a tight, rib-crushing hug.
“All good things, I hope?” I choke out, thoroughly surprised by the warmth.
“This one will not shut up about writing to his man!” Logan proudly declares, gesturing wildly to Jackson.
Instantly, I see Jackson’s entire face flush, his expression changing. “I told you, he’s not my man!” Jackson snaps, looking flustered.
The words hit me like a physical blow. My heart completely deflates.Fuck, I did read this wrong. I’m just a pen pal project.
“I’m going to leave you guys to your evening,” I say, my voice going tight and professional. “Lovely meeting you all.” I give a small, polite wave to the table, turn on my heel, and walk straight out of the bar.
65
Jackson
