Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Around them guys joked and made plans to blow off steam once they were back on base, yelling to be heard over the roar of the transport. Not for the first time on the trip, his eyes met Dustin’s, but this time, he didn’t look away.
Chill, he ordered with a hard stare. I’m okay.
Dustin shrugged, an almost imperceptible movement. You scared me.
Wes sighed, blinking. I know. I’m sorry.
“You up for a beer after?” Bacon nudged Wes, getting his attention away from Dustin. “Curly’s all fired up about getting laid, but I wouldn’t mind kicking back a few.”
“Nah.” Shaking his head, he tried to sound regretful. “I’m bushed.”
“I’m going to sleep for a week. After I see my girl.” Curly inserted himself into the conversation.
“You’re so gone for her.” Bacon laughed and that set everyone off on teasing Curly until they landed.
Even as tired as he was, Wes still dragged his dusty ass to the shower, which as he’d predicted woke him up too much to sleep right away.
His phone was blinking with a message when he made it back to his room after the shower.
Did you let the medics do the concussion protocol on you before you headed out? Of course, that would be why Dustin reached out. Wes groaned before hitting the call icon next to Dustin’s name.
“Y’all want me thoroughly examined, all you have to do is ask,” he drawled when Dustin picked up. He didn’t turn the camera on, which was fine as Wes needed to be able to move around to put on some clothes while they talked.
“Don’t be an ass,” Dustin ordered. “You could have a concussion.”
“But I don’t. Trust me, I’ve been in worse situations.” Wes grabbed jeans rather than pajama bottoms.
“I know.” Dustin made a frustrated noise. “Hell. You’re a great operator. I fucking hate that seeing you down shook me so much. Why do I have to care so much?”
“Tell me and we’ll both know.” Wes tried for flip because the real answer—because we might love each other—was likely to make him choke up. Hell, the weight of all of it—Dustin’s caring, his own worries, all the twisted emotions they were both wrestling with—it was almost more than he could handle, especially on an empty stomach with no sleep.
Wes shrugged into a T-shirt. He grabbed a pair of shoes, his body already knowing where he was headed even if his brain rebelled. Dustin was the emotional equivalent of a C-4 brick, leveling every good intention Wes had. “We’ve got at least thirty-six hours before we have to report again. Ask me over.”
“Bad—”
“The worst,” Wes agreed.
“But man, I want it.” Dustin groaned. “God, I wish I didn’t need you so much.”
“Right there with you,” Wes admitted. “You’re not alone in this thing.”
“Good.” Dustin’s voice was gruff. “Maybe one last—”
“I’m not getting you out of my system, no matter how good the fuck is,” Wes countered. “That’s not how this works. And we’ll figure something out. I promise.”
“Gonna hold you to it.” Dustin’s voice was so weary that Wes wished he could reach through the phone, give him a hug.
“So is that a yes?”
“That’s a get your ass over here.” Dustin sighed. “No need to bring beer—I bought a six-pack on the way home.”
Wes grinned because he’d won, but a deep, unsettled feeling blanketed him. Never before had winning felt so much like losing. One more night. One more memory. It would be enough. It had to be.
He headed to his Jeep, wishing it were later—too many people still awake, too many potential conversations to avoid. He’d instigated this though, so he better deliver the goods. Finding his usual discreet parking space taken, he was forced to go one more building over, park between an ancient truck with a boat trailer and a MINI Cooper. And unlike his usual spot, he couldn’t slink over between a hedge and fence—he had to cut across the parking lot. He walked quickly—a run would be suspicious, but he hated being this exposed.
“Lowe.” Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Wes knew that voice. And he’d been so damn close to making it to the hedges and out of sight. He turned as Curly jogged up. Because of fucking course it would be him.
“Curly.” Wes tried for a “Don’t talk to me” vibe even as he greeted his teammate.
“What are you doing out here?” Typically forthright and nosy. “Only people I know who live out this way is my girl and the XO.”
“Oh, really?” Wes tried to school his face to remain neutral, but it was tough when sweat started pouring down his back. He wasn’t sure how successful he was, especially when Curly’s brow remained furrowed, considering Wes carefully.
“Yeah. You seeing someone around here?”
“Something like that.” Wes aimed for a disaffected tone.
“Do I know them?” Curly asked. The fuck? Where did the guy get the balls for being so all-fired curious?