Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“How’s that working out? Dustin’s little brother staying with you and all?”
Dustin’s little brother keeps me up at night. No matter how much he loved his in-laws, no way was he ever confessing that. And he really needed to get Dylan a label to wear on his forehead warning that Dustin would kill him if he went there. “Working out fine. He’s great with the girls.” Apollo kept his voice breezy and casual, but it sounded a bit false, even to his own ears.
“Does he need some people his own age to meet? Our neighbors have a lovely daughter who just broke up with her boyfriend—”
“He’s gay.” And I’d rather keep him watching TV with me, selfish bastard that I am.
“That’s lucky.” Marilyn seemed to struggle with how to meet this bit of news, voice going unsteady.
“Lucky?”
“I mean that he found you. And vice versa. It’s good he’s got a welcoming place. That’s all.” Marilyn sounded flustered, and he knew she was thinking of Neal, who had struggled with bullying growing up and hadn’t always had the easiest time fitting in.
“Yeah, yeah it is lucky.” Lucky that he’s driving me crazy. “Listen, Marilyn, I need to grab my lunch. Can I let you go?”
“Of course. Take care.”
Apollo sent Dylan a text about pickup, trying to control his racing pulse as he realized they’d be alone for dinner. Together. Empty house. Oh, this could be bad.
Or wonderful.
He told his wishy-washy brain to go shove it and got his sandwich before limping his way back to work.
“You okay, Floros?” Admiral Carson asked as she came into the meeting room. A small woman with jet black hair, she’d been a captain when she’d first targeted him for her training team, and her shiny Rear Admiral star had given her a new zest for meetings and hands-on double-checking.
“Yes, ma’am.” Apollo couldn’t help the wince as he lowered himself into a chair.
“You’re lying.” Her steely eyed gaze missed nothing. She would have easily been a SEAL had they been taking women in special forces back when she came up through the ranks, and she handily controlled her team of both SEALs and administrative types.
“I’m fine.” He took out the memos they were going over about a jungle training exercise next month and tried to put on his best pain-free face.
But two hours later he tried to stand at the conclusion of the meeting and couldn’t control his groan. Unable to straighten, he collapsed back into his chair.
“Still fine?” The admiral walked around the table with fast, efficient strides to stand in front of him.
“Just need a minute. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’ve been in pain for weeks now. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Ensign—” She summoned Carmichael over, who was the most junior officer on their staff. “Ensign, I need you to take the Lieutenant over to Urgent Care at the medical center—”
“I can drive.” Apollo tried to stand again and failed. Fuck.
“Don’t mess with me, Floros. No way are you getting behind the wheel of a car in this shape. And no way are you avoiding the doctor. Carmichael, you stay until Floros is checked in. And Floros, you’re taking a few days of medical leave, regardless of what they say over at Urgent Care. I want you to heal up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was no arguing with her in this mood. “They’ll probably just give me some muscle relaxers—”
“And you’ll take them.” She nodded sharply before leaving him to hobble to one of the official vehicles with Carmichael hovering like Apollo was in imminent danger of falling on his face. Which, honestly, he was. The pain was so bad that he had to grind his teeth and clutch the door to avoid moaning on the ride to the medical center. He still couldn’t fully straighten, and sitting back down was out of the question as he checked in at the Urgent Care desk.
“Do you want me to wait with you?” Carmichael was looking a bit green around the gills, clearly not comfortable around sick people. He was fresh out of the academy, with shiny pink cheeks and almost white-blond hair.
“Nah.” Apollo had to grind out the word. It was so bad that it hurt to simply breathe, each inhale triggering a fresh spasm. “You did your duty by the admiral. Get back to work.”
Only after he left did Apollo realize that he didn’t have a way home. He checked his phone. Darn it. His in-laws should already have the girls, and he didn’t want to interrupt their special time. His friends were likely all on duty. Guess that left the one person he’d rather not have see him like this.
Can you give me a ride home from the Naval Medical Center? At Urgent Care. Not an emergency. Just my back, he texted Dylan. Fuck. Typing hurt.