“I’m holding you to that.” Blaire, having abandoned her straw to scoop out the remnants of strawberry ice cream at the bottom of her cup with a long spoon, points her utensil at me. After she licked it clean.
I have to look away.
Blaire, with the blonde highlights that frame her face, and that deep vee neck in her t-shirt, has got me all jumbled in the head. I’m doing my damnedest to behave. To censor my thoughts. She’s with someone else, no matter how alluring I find her. I can’t let her know. I’d rather lose my right arm than my best friend.
“You’ll text me though?” I ask, hoping the plea doesn’t sound as desperate to her as it does in my head.
“Of course, dummy.” She rolls her blue eyes playfully at me.
“Good.”
“Why are they making you go to this training deal so soon after just getting here, anyway? I mean, I know it’s the Army…”
I shrug, taking the check from the server before Blaire can try. The sizzling glare I get makes me laugh so hard the booth across from us looks over. We’ve been playing the fight for the check game since day one. “They’re short a platoon sergeant, and it’s not like I have a family to get settled in or anything.”
“Why is that anyway?” she presses.
I shimmy out of the booth, slipping my wallet in my back pocket. “Just haven’t found the one I guess.” My gaze rakes slowly over Blaire without her noticing. Sometimes, I think I’ve already found her.
2
BLAIRE
This lake party blows.
I thought it was going to be a romantic, quiet weekend. Just me, Brett, and two other couples. He didn’t bother to tell me they invited a couple dozen other people.
“It’s just for tonight, babe,” Brett says when he finds me in the kitchen seconds after I slammed the refrigerator door. I can’t even find a damn bottle of water because the whole thing is loaded with alcohol. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Why would I be mad?” I say through gritted teeth, but because Brett is on drink number five or six, I doubt he notices. My dreams of him asking me to move in are starting to evaporate. This isn’t the first time a quiet evening has turned into a party. I guess I was dumb enough to think that two hours from home, we’d have some time to ourselves.
“Babe, c’mon.”
The way he says babe makes me cringe. “Just go back outside to your party.”
“I’ll be in the hot tub. Bring me a beer in twenty?”
I don’t even justify that with a response. Instead, I push past him and head straight for the door into the garage. The same one that’ll allow me to escape the madness without dealing with the entourage of people out back.
When the music grows faint, I pull out my phone to text Sawyer. Happy to see that there’s already a message waiting for me.
Sawyer: Having fun without me?
Blaire: So much fun. NOT.
Sawyer: Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?
When I told Sawyer about my boyfriend earlier, I got the immediate sense that he didn’t approve. Have I gotten so bad at picking men that my best friend doesn’t even have to meet them anymore to know they’re a dud?
Sawyer: Blaire? You ok?
Blaire: I’m going for a walk.
Sawyer: Is that safe?
Tired of text messages, I decide to call him. “Better?” I ask in regard to my safety he seems so wrapped up in.
“A little.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, eager to talk about anything other than my shitty night. I let Sawyer know how out of hand the quiet weekend got earlier. Right now, I just need my best friend and some air.
“Inventorying my TA-50.”
An automatic laugh huffs out of me. I wonder if any of the other women Sawyer has dated before would even know that means his tactical gear. I don’t think he’s ever dated a military girl before, though, so it’s doubtful. “Why didn’t you go through that yesterday?”
“We were too busy unpacking my kitchen and doing my laundry. And by we, I pretty much mean you.”
“I’m such a terrible friend.” The lighthearted banter with Sawyer puts me immediately at ease. It reminds me that he’s not three thousand miles away this time—or worse—halfway around the world in the sandbox. He’s less than a ten minute drive from my apartment. Suddenly, my weekend doesn’t feel like such a terrible loss.
The laughter fades, and I can feel the gentle but serious tone he’s about to use before the words are even out. “You okay, Blaire?”
“Yeah. I just…I just don’t think he’s asking me to move in.” Reluctantly, I head back toward the cabin. I’m stuck here until we leave Sunday morning—which will no doubt be midafternoon as Brett and all of his buddies will have a mad hangover.
“Maybe he’s not the one, hon.”
I steel myself, fighting back the tears as the music gets louder. “Maybe not.” I’m not certain I’m in love with Brett, and honestly, I don’t think I’m there yet. But I am ready to take the next step with him. Or at least, I thought I was.
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
“Yeah. I better get back to the party.” Though I’m not a huge fan of Brett’s friends, I still don’t want to come off as some stuck-up prick. I may not be getting in the hot tub to show off my curves for this superficial audience, but I can still hang out on the deck and sip on a wine cooler.
I pocket my phone, plastering a smile on my face as I turn the corner of the cabin.
But that smile quickly fades when I see Brett in the hot tub. Making out with a topless girl.
SAWYER
Dammit, I should’ve gone to the lake tonight.
I spent all day rushing through the last of my in-processing to make sure I’m cleared to go out to the field tomorrow, but I could’ve stolen an extra hour for myself to get my duffle bag packed. It’s not like I own that much.
A glance at the clock warns me it’s too late to get in my truck and make a surprise appearance. By the time I’d get there, I have a feeling Blaire and her boyfriend might not care for the company.
Still, some gut instinct twists inside me.
With my luck, it’s probably jealously.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Blaire all day. The sound of her voice is so much better in person than over a phone or computer speaker. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until our day spent together yesterday.
But it’s not just her voice, or the way she laughs. Blaire is one of most—no the most—beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes. And I’ve been all around the world. She has a few more curves than she did when we were in the Army together, but she looks better for it.
My dick twitches against my zipper in agreement.
I shouldn’t let myself slip into a fantasy of her now. Not when she’s on a weekend trip with her boyfriend. But I slip my hand inside my pants and wrap it around my cock, imagining my fingers are her fingers.
My eyes fall closed, and the inventory is forgotten. “Blaire,” I say in a raspy whisper, stroking myself to her image.