Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
At first, I thought it was because if I stayed in the military, I would feel guilty for choosing the navy over them. They don’t want me to re-up, but they’ll support me if I do.
The more I think about it though, the more I realize my unease doesn’t come from them. It comes from something bigger.
A sense of the end.
And maybe that’s why I’m freaking out now.
Terri taps my shoulder. “You all good to do this?”
“They cleared me, didn’t they?”
“Not with your leg. With whatever’s going on up here.” He taps my helmet with his gloved finger.
“I’ll be fine once we’re in there.”
We skim across the water at lightning speed while the real action goes on behind and below us.
“Is it the crash?” Terri asks. “You’ve got the fear of death all over your face, man.”
Is that what my issue is?
I have something to live for now. Not that I didn’t before—I have loved every moment of my life—but I was lucky enough to be able to be selfish because the only connections I had were familial.
Does having Brady and Kit make the risk of putting my life on the line for my country too much? Death is part of this game, and over the course of my career, I’ve become desensitized to it. The image of Kit and Brady standing at my military funeral shakes me to my core. My parents being handed the American flag that’s draped over my coffin fills me with dread.
I’m glad Kit and Brady gave me the option to keep this job if I wanted it because it has made me realize it’s not what I want at all.
“I’m not re-upping,” I say out of nowhere.
“What?” Terri asks.
“Unless this shitshow blows up into World War III, this will be my last deployment.”
“Better make it a memorable one, then. Let’s go in there and fuck shit up.”
And as if the universe has been testing me this whole time, Commander Williams puts his finger to his ear and says, “Abort.”
Thank fuck. My chest heaves with the weight being lifted.
The boat turns around.
Williams turns to us all. “Situation neutralized.”
Terri slumps beside me. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m more relieved than disappointed.
It might have been anticlimactic to the rest of the guys, but for me, it’s been life-changing.
The minute I get back and we have access to communicate with the outside world, I message the two men who have become the most important people to me. What we have is something I need to cherish every day.
I’m coming home. For good.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
brady
EPILOGUE
No matter how many times you say in a relationship, “We’ll make it work. We’ll make it work,” it’s not that simple.
Time, distance, random weekend visits … it’s really not the most fun way to spend the first year of our relationship.
I wish I could say it was all sunshine and rainbows, but it wasn’t. Kit would split his time between Prescott and me while he was doing his online courses, and when he was in New York, I’d feel guilty for being at work all the time, and when he was in California, I’d miss them both and throw temper tantrums because they got to be together and I was stuck in New York.
I don’t need to live in Kit and Prescott’s pockets, but I never want to live in different states again.
Which is why when Kit tries to leave our new bed in our new apartment in Marina Del Rey, I hold him closer and mumble, “Prescott, get him. He’s trying to escape.”
“Don’t come between Kit and his morning workout,” Prescott murmurs sleepily and rolls over to face the other way.
We’ve only been here together for two days, though Kit moved in ahead of time and has already put everything Prescott and I own away.
It’s a three-bedroom, two-bath place that has a balcony overlooking the building’s pool, and if I had to guess, Kit’s either trying to sneak out to go do a hundred laps, or he’s going to run to Venice Beach and back.
With its location and both Kit and Prescott starting up their new personal-training company, we couldn’t really afford this place, but now that I’m a law school graduate and a full agent at King Sports, I can pay the mortgage repayments … thanks to my dads providing the down payment for us.
The guys are adamant we’ll pay them back, no matter how many times I tell them that helping us buy the place is cheaper than the therapy I would need if I opened the locked box in my head labeled childhood. In my eyes, it’s a win-win.
So after months of pining, of missing Prescott, of having doubts about moving back to California, and even briefly discussing having Kit and Prescott move to New York instead so I could continue to learn from Uncle Damon, we’re finally here.