Soldier On (12 page)

“Walker! What’s your hurry man?”

“Yeah, aren’t you going to introduce us to your pretty girlfriend?”

Brandon sighs and turns around. We’re greeted by a couple of guys, both dressed in gray hoodies with
Army Strong
printed across the chest.

“Damien. Jon.”

Brandon wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer as he makes the introductions. The guys don’t really make me feel uncomfortable, but there’s something about Brandon’s protective stance that makes me think he doesn’t really like them too much. His body is rigid; his face is pale.

Damien smiles at me. “So you’re the reason Walker is in such a hurry to get home at night.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Jon says, eyeing me from head to toe. “We’re headed to a mixer over at Sigma Chi. You guys should come.”

“I don’t think so,” Brandon says.

Normally, I’d be upset that he didn’t even ask if I was interested in going, but in this case, I’m glad. I’m never in the mood for a frat party, and Brandon acts like he would rather clean Bangle’s litter box than spend another minute with these guys.

Brandon opens the passenger-side door and all but shoves me into the cab of the truck before slamming the door. I hear him tell the guys he’ll see them on Monday before he climbs in and quickly starts the ignition.

“Friends of yours?”

“Not really.”

I buckle my seatbelt as he points the truck toward the highway. Turning toward him, I notice his face still looks panicked. His hands are wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

“You have classes with them?”

I hear him take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, Damien said you were in a hurry to get home at night. I figured you had a class with him or something.”

Brandon nods stiffly and continues to drive.

“We do have a few classes together,” he says quietly.

“But you don’t like them.”

“I like them fine.”

It isn’t the answer I’m expecting at all. Something is obviously wrong.

“Are you mad about the party? Because we can go.”

He frowns. “Do you want to go?”

“Not really, but I’ll go if you want.”

Brandon shakes his head and veers to the right, stopping abruptly on the shoulder of the road. He throws off his seatbelt before reaching for mine, and within seconds, he’s pulling me sideways into his lap. I don’t care that I’m pinned between him and the steering wheel as he holds me close. This is my happy place. My favorite place.

“I just wanna be with you, Steph. I don’t care where we are.”

He weaves his hands into my hair and pulls my face close. His brown eyes look pained, and I wish I knew why.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I whisper against his lips.

He just shakes his head and kisses me, lightly at first, but his lips grow urgent until we’re swallowing each other’s moans. This kiss isn’t like the playfulness in the theater. There’s desperation here, a frantic fear that I wish I understood.

But I don’t.

Brandon buries his head against my shoulder. I slide my fingers along his scalp, and it’s moments like this when I wish he didn’t have such short hair.

“Thank you for tonight, Brandon.”

He lifts his head and smiles softly. “Thank you for tonight, too.”

I kiss him gently before climbing back to my side of the truck.

The drive home is a quiet one, but this time, he holds my hand as he drives. He doesn’t let go until we reach our apartment building.

“Wait here,” he says.

I smile as he climbs out of the truck and walks around to my door. He opens it and offers me his hand. I’m short, so climbing in and out of his truck is a pain, but I know that’s not why he does it. He helps me out of the truck and offers me his arm as we walk to the apartment door because he’s a gentleman. I’d almost forgotten what one looked like. But mine is handsome, with close-cropped strawberry blonde hair and big brown eyes.

And he speaks French.

“What did you say?” I ask once we’re inside the apartment. “Back at the movies, when you wowed me with your French accent? What did you say?”

“
Meilleur film que j'ai jamais vu,”
he says. “Best movie ever.”

I grin. “It really was.”

Brandon takes a step closer and lifts his palm toward my face. Suddenly, he shakes his head and quickly stuffs his hand into his pocket.

“Stupid rules,” I mutter.

“I’m happy to rip them to shreds at any time. Just say the word.”

So tempting.

“That would be dangerous, Brandon.”

He sighs before nodding in agreement. “It probably would be. I’m gonna go shower and get some sleep.”

“Okay. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be home after my run. I have a paper to write, so I’ll be home all day working on that.”

“I need to study, too.”

“Meet you on the couch?”

“It’s a date.”

He turns toward his bedroom. “Goodnight, Steph.”

“Goodnight.”

CHAPTER TEN

Brandon

The ball flies from my fingertips, bouncing off the backboard and through the net. It’s impressive, considering my lack of sleep and the fact that I haven’t shot a basketball in months.

Saturdays are my favorite day of the week, and my Saturday morning workouts are typically the best because I don’t have to worry about heading to class once they’re over. Just a quick run around campus and maybe some conditioning drills before heading to the shower. The rest of the day is for homework or a shift at the coffee shop.

Today’s workout sucked. My running time was terrible, and because I had tossed and turned all night, I didn’t have the energy to do more than forty-six sit-ups.

Fifty is the
minimum
.

Needless to say, my instructor isn’t happy.

Disgusted with myself, I give the basketball a hard bounce, letting it slap against the asphalt. The sound echoes throughout the empty park.

Of course it’s empty. Only an idiot would be shooting hoops with snow clinging to the trees.

Xavier had thought I was crazy when I sent him a text, asking him to meet me at the park at nine on a cold Saturday morning. Maybe I am a little insane, but I need to talk, and I need to talk to a guy.

It’s times like these when I really miss Vince. We’ve been best friends since freshman year, but he’s now in aviation training at Fort Rucker in Alabama. He doesn’t have time to listen to me gripe about the web of lies I’ve weaved for myself.

Last night was a close call. Too close. I couldn’t sleep for thinking how easily I could have lost her.

And make no mistake, I would have lost her.

The ball bouncing on the asphalt covers my bitter laughter. I had been so worried about getting caught in my uniform or my PT gear, but Steph and I had seen so little of each other over the past few weeks that hiding the fact I’m a soldier had been no problem at all.

Until last night.

“Oh, look. Icicles are literally hanging from the backboard.”

I grin at Xavier as he makes his way onto the court.

“Seriously, Brandon, it’s like twenty degrees.”

“The court’s clear, though.”

“You’re still insane.”

“No argument here.”

He bounces on his toes to stay warm. “And it’s Saturday morning. I only wake up this early on a Saturday morning for one person, and she’s way hotter than you. She also cooks kickass strawberry waffles. I’m giving up waffles for you, man.”

I toss him the ball. “I owe you.”

We shoot for over an hour. Xavier is six-foot-seven and a power forward. I’m six-foot-two and sleep-deprived. Keeping score would be embarrassing, so we just play until our fingers are completely frozen.

Xavier grabs the rebound after one of my more humiliating shots. “So, should we just keep freezing our asses off, or are you ready to talk?”

I’ve stalled long enough.

“I’m ready. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

We leave his car at the park, and I drive us over to The Grind. After ordering hot chocolates and doughnuts, the two of us find a booth in the corner of the shop.

“I know glazed doughnuts can’t compare to Tessa’s waffles—”

“
Strawberry
waffles.”

“I have a feeling you’re gonna be eating strawberry waffles for the rest of your life. Still, I appreciate the sacrifice.”

Xavier laughs and takes a bite of his doughnut.

Here goes nothing.

“I need your advice. It’s about Steph.”

“I assumed.”

“I really care about her, Xavier. Probably more than I should. I mean, we haven’t really known each other that long.”

“I don’t think that matters,” he replies. “I knew I was in love with Tessa after our first date.”

“I’m not in—”

“Oh, whatever. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“How do I look at her?”

“Like you’re crazy about her.”

Am I really that obvious?

“Trust me, Brandon. You suck at hiding it.”

Apparently so.

“Steph’s never dated much, so the fact that she’s so into you has made my girlfriend a very happy woman.”

This information makes me smile like a lunatic.

“You think she’s into me?”

Xavier chuckles, rolls his eyes, and reaches for another doughnut. “So, what kind of advice do you need?”

I take a deep breath. “I hate to ask, but if I tell you this, can you keep it to yourself?”

“You mean can I keep it from Tessa?”

I nod.

“Brandon, I won’t lie to my girl.”

“I’m not asking you to lie. Just . . . keep your mouth shut. At least until I can figure out what to do. Because right now, I’m screwed. I just need to know
how
screwed and if there’s anything I can do about it. I need your help.”

He looks hesitant, and I can’t blame him. I know I’m asking a lot. But until I’m sure that he and Tessa will be on my side, I can’t trust her with this kind of information. She might tell Steph, and that could ruin everything.

“All right, I’ll keep quiet. Let’s hear it.”

I don’t say a word. I simply lower the zipper on my hoodie, revealing my Army ROTC T-shirt.

I hold my breath.

“It’s a shirt. I don’t get the significance.”

“Read it, Xavier.”

“I read it. You’re in ROTC?”

“Yes.”

“That’s cool. After that day in the gym, I told Tessa you were way too athletic to be a computer geek. ‘Brandon wouldn’t lie about something like that,’ she said.”

“I didn’t lie. My major is computer engineering.”

“But you’re in ROTC?”

“You can do both.”

“Huh.”

Xavier reaches for another doughnut, but before he can take a bite, a flicker of understanding flashes in his eyes.

His voice drops to a whisper. “Dude . . .”

“I know.”

“You’re a
soldier
?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a curse word.”

“It is according to Steph’s dictionary. That girl has a seriously irrational hatred for the military.”

“I know.”

“The girls even called you G.I. Joe after that New Year’s Eve party. They have no idea how accurate that description turned out to be.”

Xavier laughs, and I let him. I need his help, after all, so it’s probably best to let him get it all out of his system.

“You’re right, man. You’re screwed.”