Page 46 of Duty Preserved

“Not a crush, or not just a crush?”

I opened my mouth to tell her she was wrong, and that was when it came back.

The kiss. His mouth, warm and slow, and the gentleness of it undoing me more than force ever could have. His hand light and careful on my jaw. The few seconds when the entire reserve had disappeared, and nothing existed in the world except the heat of him and the quiet sound he made when I pressed closer.

“Sarah. We’ve known each other for years.”

Her voice pulled me back into the supply room. I made myself look at her.

“You don’t talk about people the way you just talked about him. You talk about animals like that. You talk about the Grévy’s zebra like that. The fact that a human man just got the same reverence as an endangered species is significant.”

I couldn’t tell her. Not because I didn’t trust Alyson, but because then I would have to verbally confess to having been the fool who ended the moment.

Alyson was watching me. Her head had tilted and her eyes had narrowed. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“Something happened,” she said.

“Nothing happened.”

“Something happened, and you’re not telling me.”

“Alyson, nothing happened. I admire how he handled the situation. That’s allowed.”

She held my gaze for three more seconds. Then she let it go, which wasn’t like her, and I knew with absolute certainty that she was coming back to this later.

“Okay,” she said. “But you like him. That much is obvious.”

“I—” I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. “It doesn’t matter if I like him.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Because look at him. And look at me.”

“I am looking at you. You’re a knockout.”

“I’m a five-foot-two vet in dirty field clothes who hasn’t worn makeup in eleven months. He’s—” I stopped myself.

You know how this ends. You’ve already seen it. A man gets close, gets a good look, and the interest drains out of his face so slowly he thinks you can’t tell. But you can always tell. You could always tell.

The thought closed around my chest like a fist. It wasn’t new. It had stopped feeling like a wound that might heal and started feeling permanent.

I swallowed it down. Alyson didn’t hear it. Nobody ever heard it.

“How would it even work?” I said instead. “We live in a camp. Thirty-odd cabins, one dining tent, no privacy. Everyone in each other’s business all day long. You can’t date someone when the whole compound watches you eat breakfast together.”

“People date in camps all the time. Daniel and I⁠—”

“Are a cautionary tale.”

She laughed, short and startled. “Okay, fair. But that’s Daniel, not⁠—”

“The logistics are just too complicated, Aly. There’s no version of this that makes sense.”

She went still. Then something clicked into place behind her eyes, and she set down the box she was holding and sat next to me.

“Logistics. Of course.” She turned to face me fully. “You take the run into Nanyuki for supplies tomorrow. With Donovan. Daniel and I usually take it, but I could use a break from that drive anyway. Pick up the xylazine, and get some out-of-camp time to explore your not-crush.”

I stared at her. I could see exactly where she was headed.