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)
“You want to watch the show? It’s still early.”
“I’d love that.” Dylan couldn’t help grinning at Apollo. “Let me grab a shirt, and I’ll be right down.”
“You don’t...that is, I’m fine...it’s just us.” Apollo fumbled for words. Man, Dylan was never getting tired of his ability to twist the big-shot SEAL lieutenant into knots.
“Fine. I’m hot anyway.” Dylan followed him downstairs.
“Yeah, you are,” Apollo muttered. Dylan swallowed back a laugh. Yup. I am the God of Stammering SEALS. Behold my powers.
Even with his ego at an all-time high, Dylan carefully sat on the opposite end of the couch from Apollo, not wanting to spook whatever had prompted this gesture of friendship.
“You don’t have to sit down there.” Apollo didn’t look at Dylan as he fiddled with the controller. “The view’s terrible over there.”
What are we doing here? Dylan bit back the question as he scooted closer. Hope sounded the alarm again, but he told it off—Apollo figuring out how to be friends again didn’t mean anything.
But somewhere around the second episode, Apollo’s arm came around the back of the couch.
We’re a pair of fifteen-year-olds now, feeling our way toward handholding. Dylan’s brain let out a silent scream.
Don’t see you moving away. Admit it. You’d kill to hold his hand.
Dylan was so ridiculously over his head that it wasn’t funny. His body ignored every lecture about not crushing and sank back against the couch cushion, shoulders touching Apollo.
“This okay?” Apollo shot him a look out of the corner of his eyes.
See? Teenagers have nothing on us right now. “Yeah.”
Apollo’s hand came down on his shoulder, pulled him closer. “Not...” Apollo trailed off, muscle in his jaw working.
“You’re still sorting. I get it.” Dylan patted his thigh. “This is plenty nice. Now watch—this is the episode where the double agent—”
“Don’t ruin it,” Apollo ordered sharply.
Don’t have to warn me. That was exactly how he felt about this tentative embrace, not wanting to ruin this quiet peace, trying to figure out how to keep his heart out of it even as it swelled with every baby step past grief that Apollo managed.
* * *
Apollo blinked hard against the offending sunlight and dug out his shades. He had fallen asleep on the couch again, something that seemed to be becoming his new habit. At some point, Dylan had snuck off for his own bed, and someone had put a blanket from the hall closet over Apollo. His chest had felt tight, like he’d done too much on the fly machine, but unfortunately, his brain had been too groggy to remember his lunch. Thus, he ended up walking to the food court on base during a break between meetings. The mess hall was another option, but he’d had enough of that during his years living in the officer’s housing on base.
It was a gorgeous day with clear blue skies. Too bad that every step made him feel like knives were being shoved in the small of his back.
Damn it. He must have slept wrong. Gee. You think? You’ve got a top-of-the-line orthopedic mattress you can’t bear to sleep on because you’re too busy cuddling up to the babysitter when awake. And hell if he could summon adequate guilt about that. All week he’d been watching the show with Dylan, falling asleep together a lot of nights, but no kissing and no frantic makeout sessions like last Friday. However, it was always there simmering beneath the surface though that Dylan wouldn’t mind if Apollo took things further.
Which he shouldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.
And yet, he also couldn’t seem to keep away from Dylan, to stop enjoying his presence and coming up with excuses for them to spend more time together. You need to get out more. Reconnect with your friends. Find other adult companionship. Yeah, maybe that was all this was—a hunger for adult conversation. But the weird thrum behind his breastbone whenever he thought about Dylan said otherwise.
Buzz. Buzz. His cell phone went off in his pocket, so he fished it out. It was Marilyn, his mother-in-law.
“Hey!” Apollo tried to manufacture some enthusiasm, even as his guilty conscience seized up even worse than his back.
“I’m just calling to confirm that we’ve got the girls after their day camp today.” Marilyn sounded cheerful as usual. “I’ll drop them back off after dinner.”
“You do?” Hell. Apollo vaguely remembered a phone call during last week’s hectic long hours. He’d forgotten to add it to his calendar, which wasn’t like him.
“Yes, we talked all about it. We’ll take them to BO-Beau for dinner—they love that school bus play area.”
“Yeah, they’ll have a great time. Just let me text my...” Babysitter. That’s all he is, and you need to remember that. But somehow he couldn’t make the words come out. “...the day camp coordinator and make sure he knows you guys are doing the pickup.”