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EX EQUALS …Cammies always looked good, and the deep blue had a tendency to bring out eyes in a way that would probably have this math teacher tripping over his words for the entire quarter. Good thing I wasn‟t enlisted anymore. Being in the closet had been bad enough when we were all dressed like prison inmates. This? This would have been torture. The boys in blue took seats in the back row. Backpacks rustled, papers shuffled, pens rattled. More students arrived. Seats were filling quickly, so I did one last check to make sure I had everything I needed in the order I needed it. 6:59. I resisted the urge to drum my fingers. With the late enrollments, I had a class of thirty-two now, but only twenty-six in front of me. Much as I didn‟t like starting late, I figured I could give the stragglers until ten after, just in case anyone had difficulty finding the room. The campus layout wasn‟t terribly intuitive, so students could be forgiven for being a few minutes late. The door opened again, and when I looked up, my heart stopped. So much for calm, cool, or collected. There was no mistaking his identity. Even if I could have convinced myself to hide behind a veil of denial for a moment or two, the uniform—oh, Navy, why couldn‟t you have stuck with prison blues?—had his name right there on his chest. Hayes. Justin Hayes. My former shipmate. My ex-boyfriend…

ALSO BY L. A. WITT Changing Plans Getting Off The Ground Infinity Pools On The List Static

EX EQUALS BY L. A. WITT

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

EX EQUALS AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author‟s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © by L. A. Witt ISBN 978-1-61124-176-1 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Dr Pepper, You are the caffeine beneath my wings.

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CHAPTER 1 CHRIS 6:42 P.M. Only two minutes since the last time I‟d checked my watch. Three since the time before that. Chuckling to myself, I rubbed my tired eyes. What was the worst that would happen if I showed up late? My students would write me up? Ah, but consequences or not, eight years in the military had left me with a nearly neurotic need to be on time or early to everything. Last night, I‟d barely slept, and when I did, I kept dreaming of being late to every one of my classes. So far, in between sucking down as much coffee as I could get my hands on, I‟d made it to every one of them exactly ten minutes early. It wasn‟t like I had far to go; three of my classes were in one 1

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room, two were in the next room over, and they were about a two hundred foot walk from my office. It was, however, my first day on the job. No sense slacking from the get-go. Another glance at the watch. 6:45 P.M. By now, the previous class would be out of the room, mine would be trickling in, and I wouldn‟t look like a complete dork if I showed up. I stood, picked up my briefcase from beside my desk, and left. I stopped to lock the door, and couldn‟t help pausing to grin at the sign on the window. Chris Reuben—Math Dept. There was just something cool about having my name on a door. Maybe not to anyone else, but after almost a decade as a uniformed drone and a few years of grinding through my degrees, there was a certain novelty about it. Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I pocketed my keys and strolled toward the classroom. I‟d been a nervous wreck before my first two classes, but now I was calm and cool. My other four classes had gone smoothly, so I was confident about this one. Algebra 101. Easy subject, easy curriculum. Plus it was a night class; several of my colleagues around the community college had told me the evening crowd was a hell of a lot easier to deal with. Instead of fresh out of high school kids, it was adults who had to cram a class into their work schedule and family life. They tended to take things more seriously. I pushed open the classroom door and offered a quick glance and smile at the eight or nine students who‟d already arrived. As I arranged copies of the syllabus and all the other crap I needed to hand out on the table at the front of the room, more students 2

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arrived. One woman who was probably in her mid-forties came up to me with a late enrollment form. I jotted her name down, took the carbon copy of the form, and slid it into my notebook under the roll sheet. I scanned the room, counting heads. Twenty-one. A quick look at my roll sheet showed twenty-eight, plus there‟d probably be more showing up with late enrollments. Not my largest class, but quite a crowd. I looked up at the clock at the back of the room. 6:55. Five minutes till go-time. The door opened again, and I glanced up as three more students filed in. Two of them were Navy, probably from the base down the road. They must have come straight from work, because they were still in uniform, and… Oh. My. God. The Navy had recently changed their everyday uniforms, shifting the utilities—which were a lot like prison blues—to blue camouflage. I wasn‟t sure how effective blue camouflage really was unless they wanted a man overboard to be harder to find, but from an ogling standpoint? Oh yes, they did just fine. Cammies always looked good, and the deep blue had a tendency to bring out eyes in a way that would probably have this math teacher tripping over his words for the entire quarter. Good thing I wasn‟t enlisted anymore. Being in the closet had been bad enough when we were all dressed like prison inmates. This? This would have been torture. The boys in blue took seats in the back row. Backpacks rustled, papers shuffled, pens rattled. More students arrived. Seats were filling quickly, so I did one last check to make sure I had 3

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everything I needed in the order I needed it. 6:59. I resisted the urge to drum my fingers. With the late enrollments, I had a class of thirty-two now, but only twenty-six in front of me. Much as I didn‟t like starting late, I figured I could give the stragglers until ten after, just in case anyone had difficulty finding the room. The campus layout wasn‟t terribly intuitive, so students could be forgiven for being a few minutes late. The door opened again, and when I looked up, my heart stopped. So much for calm, cool, or collected. There was no mistaking his identity. Even if I could have convinced myself to hide behind a veil of denial for a moment or two, the uniform—oh, Navy, why couldn‟t you have stuck with prison blues?—had his name right there on his chest. Hayes. Justin Hayes. My former shipmate. My ex-boyfriend. My eyes flicked from his name to his face, and the lopsided grin told me the recognition was mutual. And, according to his glittering blue eyes, not unexpected. I gritted my teeth. Tell me this is a joke. “Chris,” he said. “How‟s it going?” I bit back my irritation, and forced myself to be completely, if grudgingly, professional. “Good. And you?” I extended my hand. He shook it, sending lightning up my arm and into my spine. Fuck, why do you still have to be so damned hot? “Doing great,” he said. “So you‟re teaching now?” No, I’m the fire marshal, and I’ve decided this room exceeds its max capacity by one. Get out. 4

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I cleared my throat. “Yeah, yeah. This is my first year.” Before he could say anything, I pulled back my sleeve to look at the time. “And it‟s after seven, so I need to get things started.” “Sure. Right. I‟ll, um…” He gestured toward the back of the room. “Take a seat.” As he walked away, I forced myself not to watch him. I was not going to notice how good his broad shoulders looked in that damned uniform, and I certainly wasn‟t going to think about how those boots might sound when they thumped onto the floor beside my bed. A bed. Someone else‟s bed. After what we‟d been through, his boots wouldn‟t be landing beside my bed any time soon. I wouldn‟t touch the son of a bitch with someone else‟s dick. Even still, damn him for still being gorgeous. Fuck, I do not need this. I took a deep breath and faced my class and ex-boyfriend. I‟d survived four classes without my composure faltering even for a second, but now, before this one had even started, I was a wreck. I was all sweaty palms and jitters just like the first time I stood in front of a class while I was student teaching. And just like that time, I had to bite the bullet and get through it, no matter what. I took another deep breath, promised myself I could and would do this, and started the class. “As I‟m sure you probably all gathered by now,” I said. “I‟m Chris Reuben, and this is Algebra 101. If you‟re in the wrong class, or you don‟t have TiVo to record the next few months worth of Grey’s Anatomy, there‟s the door.” I gestured toward it, and the class responded with a reassuring ripple of laughter. I handed out the syllabus, all the while pretending not to be aware that I was giving Justin my e-mail address, office phone 5

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number, and office location. Of course he could get that information fairly easily from the college website, but it still didn‟t sit well with me. While the copies of the syllabus were passed around, I stood at the podium again and continued the introduction to the class. “Obviously we have some military among us,” I said, glancing at the two guys in uniform who weren‟t Justin. “I‟m former enlisted myself, so I know how the duty schedules and everything can be a hassle. If you have duty days that will interfere with attendance, you‟re welcome to e-mail me that information ahead of time so we can arrange makeup quizzes, tests, and whatnot.” One of the two in the back raised his hand. I nodded. “Yes?” “We‟re going to be on work-ups for two weeks during the quarter,” he said. “Will we be able to make that up?” “Absolutely,” I said. “I‟m strict about attendance, but I‟m flexible when it comes to military commitments, illnesses, and things of that nature. Just give me a heads-up whenever you‟re able, and I‟ll help you out as best I can.” I picked up my notes. “So, with all that out of the way, why don‟t we get into the fun stuff that you‟re all here for? Does everyone have a textbook?” A murmur of affirmatives went through the room. “If not, see if you can share one with someone sitting near you,” I said. “And everyone please turn to page twenty-two.” For the sake of not overwhelming my students on the first day of class, I‟d kept my lectures relatively short. When I wrapped up this lecture at half past eight, a full thirty minutes before class was scheduled to end, no one in the room was more relieved than me. I closed my book and set my notes on top. “And that‟s enough for one night. There‟s no assignment this evening, but starting 6

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Wednesday night there will be assignments following every class. If you miss a class, assignments are listed on the syllabus. I‟ll see everyone on Wednesday.” My colleagues were right about one thing: students didn‟t stick around after night classes. No one paused beside desks to socialize. No one pulled me aside to ask a question or see if they could swing by my office before they left. No one said anything except “good night, see you on Wednesday.” As soon as I gave the word that they were dismissed, people were gone. I wasn‟t far behind. I shoved everything unceremoniously into my briefcase, snapped it shut, and retreated to the safety of my office. The door with my name on it was suddenly much too conspicuous, and as I shut it behind me, I caught myself wishing I could have had one of the offices tucked back in a corner. Maybe a shared one without any lettering on the door. But no, the offices were arranged to keep the various departments together, and the math department had prime real estate, front and center on the third floor. If Justin came looking for me, he couldn‟t miss me. And he had my office number on the syllabus anyway. I dropped into my chair and rested my elbows on the desk blotter. Groaning aloud, I rubbed my forehead with my thumb and middle finger. Justin. In my class. After all this time. The memories didn‟t have to come flooding back. They‟d been there all along, every last one of them, floating at the edges of my consciousness like flotsam and jetsam just waiting to tangle with a rudder and throw me off course. After three years, I should have been over it. Up until tonight, I‟d thought I was over it. But then he was there, and I was off guard, and the feelings were still there, and it hurt so goddamned bad to be in the same room with him. 7

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I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was over it. This was just unexpected, that was all. Justin had caught me off guard. The ship had hit a wave, knocked me off balance, and it was up to me to right myself. I had to find my sea legs again, as it were. I needed to find them quickly, too. With Justin as my student, I didn‟t have a choice but to be over it, stand on my own two feet, and teach my class like I‟d never had sweaty, passionate sex with the blond guy in the back row. Like I‟d never fallen in love with him, and never wound up hurting like hell when it was over. Twelve weeks. Two classes per week. One class down, twentythree to go. Five of those were exam days that only required me to sit back and make sure no one cheated, so only eighteen classes where I had to actually form coherent sentences. I could do this. A knock at the door almost drove another groan out of me. I didn‟t have to ask who it was. “It‟s open,” I said. As the doorknob turned and the hinges gave the faintest squeak, I looked up. Just as I expected, Justin stepped in. “Hey,” he said. “Hi.” I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands on my lap. “What do you need?” He pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack, then slung the pack onto his shoulder again before handing me the page. “I just thought I‟d bring my duty schedule by. You mentioned…in class…you know…” “Yeah, I know what I said.” I held out my hand and took the paper from him. “You could have e-mailed it.” “Well, opsec and all of that.” I eyed him. “Since when is a duty schedule a matter of operational security?” 8

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“Okay, maybe not. But, anyway.” He nodded toward the paper in my hand. “There it is.” I set it on my desk without looking at it. “Anything else?” “No, I think that‟s it.” He fidgeted, but didn‟t fidget himself closer to the damned door. Something furrowed his brow, perhaps some segue into a conversation I had neither the time nor the inclination to endure. I beat him to the punch, and icily said, “I don‟t suppose your ship is pulling out any time soon.” He smirked. “Now you know that’s opsec.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn‟t ask when, to where, or for how long. I‟m assuming you can tell me if the boat‟s in the shipyard or doing work-ups at least.” He shrugged. “Actually, I‟m on shore duty. I‟m with one of the support detachments on-base.” “Must be nice,” I said through my teeth. “Eh, losing sea pay sucks.” He grinned. “But it is kind of nice not to have to go to sea any time soon.” “I‟m sure.” I sat up and folded my hands on top of his duty schedule. Before I could gently and maybe a little coldly drop a hint that he was more than welcome to leave, he spoke again. “You know, I was surprised to see your name on the class schedule,” he said. “I didn‟t think you‟d be in the area. Figured you‟d go back to the east coast after you got out.” “Didn‟t have any reason to go back.” I shrugged. “This is where the ship dumped me, so this is where I stayed.” “How do you like it?” I pursed my lips. “Justin…” He put up a hand. “Hey, I was just curious how you‟re doing.” Exhaling, I rubbed my forehead. “Listen, I need to finish some 9

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things before I get out of here, and I‟m exhausted. I‟m just…” Not in the mood to even look at you unless you’re going to fucking kiss me. Wait, what? Damn, it no… I muffled a cough. “I really need to get a few things done.” “Right. Sorry.” He started to go. “I‟ll see you in class on Wednesday.” I barely kept myself from cringing. Every Monday and Wednesday night? For the next twelve weeks? Shit. He reached for the door, but I stopped him. “Justin, wait.” He looked back at me, eyebrows up. “One question before you go.” He shrugged and took his hand off the doorknob. “Sure, go ahead.” I moistened my lips. “What are you doing? Here, I mean? In my class?” A lifetime ago, I‟d loved that grin, but this time it just made me want to throw a textbook at him. Especially when he added a breath of quiet laughter and said, “Learning algebra.” And with that, he was gone. And I was alone. Again.

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CHAPTER 2 JUSTIN Over the last three years, I‟d told myself many, many times that it was a huge mistake to let Chris go. After seeing him tonight, there was no doubt in my mind letting him go was the single biggest mistake I‟d ever made. The second biggest was probably signing up for this class in the first place. Sitting in my car in the parking lot, facing the building that held Chris and his new career, I couldn‟t for the life of me justify what I was doing here. Why I was still here in this parking lot, why I was here in the first place. What the fuck did I expect, anyway? Open arms? “God, how have you been?” “I‟m so glad to see you?” I was lucky he was professional enough not to find a reason to kick me out of his class. 11

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I debated going back into his office to talk, but what was there to say? Grumbling to myself, I turned the key in the ignition, shifted into gear, and left. And as I drove, I couldn‟t stop thinking about Chris. I hadn‟t expected him to be anything short of gorgeous, but I hadn‟t been prepared. It was like the photos in my mind had slowly faded over time, dulling his sharp features and easing the intensity of his pale green eyes. The moment I laid eyes on him again, every image was instantly restored to crystal clarity. And what I saw before me, the Chris of today, took my breath away. He‟d abandoned the rigid regulation haircut of the military and opted for a less severe look for his dark hair. It was just long enough to make me wish I could run my fingers through it, and perfectly complemented the five o‟clock shadow that he could get away with now that he was a civilian. Some guys got out of the military and, without the physical readiness standards hanging over their heads, let themselves go. Chris hadn‟t. He‟d been dressed in a shirt and tie, and the shirt and tailored pants had fit just right to emphasize every inch of him. He‟d never been particularly bulky, just slim and solid, and that hadn‟t changed a bit since he‟d traded his blues for the civilian life. It wouldn‟t have surprised me in the least if he still had a six-pack. Time hadn‟t dulled his physique, and he apparently maintained muscle tone like he maintained a grudge. I sighed as I pulled onto the freeway. I should‟ve known he wouldn‟t just let it go, and truth be told, I didn‟t blame him. Thumping the heel of my hand on the steering wheel, I cursed into the silence of my car. I should‟ve just called him. Or maybe come by his office. Or just left well enough alone. 12

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Signing up for his class? Damn it, what was I thinking? About twenty minutes after I left the community college, I pulled into my driveway and parked. When I let myself in through the garage door, the house was quiet, and a peek into the living room revealed that Marnie had fallen asleep on the couch. Making as little noise as possible, I went from the living room to the kitchen. I hoisted myself up onto the counter. If I didn‟t have to be up for work at five in the morning, I‟d have dug out a bottle of something alcoholic. Not tonight. I didn‟t dare show up at work even a little red in the eyes, never mind hung over, and if I started drinking tonight, I‟d likely still be drunk when I showed up tomorrow. My chief would have a field day with me, assuming Marnie didn‟t rip me a new one before I even left the house. I exhaled. Marnie. God, wasn‟t that another thing to make my gut twist into bigger, tighter knots? Staring at the wall dividing the kitchen from the living room, as if I could see right through it to Marnie sleeping on the couch, I sighed. I was so fucking tired of this. For the last year or so, since Marnie had come back from her last deployment, it seemed like every goddamned person in our command had been needling us about getting married. Why they all assumed we‟d be itching to get married the minute she was back on dry land, I didn‟t know, but the pressure was definitely on. We were the perfect couple, they all said, so why not get married? After all, we‟d been living together for the last two years. At every Navy ball and Christmas party, we walked in with her hand on my elbow. We danced, we drank, we carried on with friends from both of our departments. Marnie and I were the very picture of being in love, and when one of us came back from a 13

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deployment, the other was there waiting on the pier. She swore we both deserved Oscars for those passionate “I missed you so much” pier-side kisses. Fuck that. I thought we deserved medals for the entire damned performance. We‟d meet up beside the ship, kiss like we couldn‟t wait to get home after half a year apart, then walk hand in hand off the pier, drive off the base, and go back to the house we rented on the other side of town. The minute we were out of sight and earshot, she‟d be off to her girlfriend‟s apartment while I called up Jon or Damien or whichever guy I was sleeping with at the time. Marnie and Emily had been together since the dawn of time, but it was all casual lovers for me. No boyfriends. I hadn‟t been in a relationship since Chris, and now that I‟d been in the same room with him again, I didn‟t foresee that changing any time soon. And as for Marnie and me, we were just the cute little cliché of sham relationships, weren‟t we? I shook my head and swore under my breath. We‟d even discussed taking our cliché little sham relationship to the next level and getting married, if only to appease everyone who was putting on the pressure. It would lift any suspicions, and everyone would back off until we could safely divorce and come out. But then there was the can of worms of the various benefits granted to married couples. Housing allowances, separation pay, things like that. Neither of us was interested in committing any kind of actual fraud—and the military didn‟t fuck around with this sort of thing—so we‟d abandoned the idea pretty quickly. We only wanted to hide what we were, not steal anything or get ourselves court-martialed. I had no doubt the situation bothered Emily. Marnie grumbled about it. They‟d fought about it, we‟d fought about it, but we stuck 14

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it out. Maybe soon, with DADT being lifted, we could both ditch this whole charade and come out. No, not yet. Marnie and I were E-6s, and we both wanted to make the next rank, chief, before we retired. With all the political games we had to play to get those coveted gold anchors, it behooved us both to keep it quiet a little longer. Once we‟d both made board, been selected, endured the hazing-that-wasn‟t-hazing, and traded our blue uniforms for chief‟s khakis, then we could “break up” and let our respective cats out of the bag. Sure about that, Hayes? Why not wait till you make senior chief? Maybe push it to master chief? Stay in until thirty years and then come out at your retirement before you go home to an empty bed? I let my head fall back against the cabinet. I was so tired of playing these games. Everyone close to me was either being deceived like the rest of the world, or quietly playing along. I was tired of having to pick and choose who knew the real me, and use—hurt—those who knew so I could keep everyone else in the dark. All because there were people who just couldn‟t get over the fact that there were people like me in the military who had the audacity to be attracted to those of our own gender. In defense of my career, I‟d turned everyone I knew into pawns and turned my entire life into a series of smoke and mirrors. A series of smoke and mirrors that, along with my own shortsighted, selfish stupidity, had cost me the only man I‟d ever really, truly fallen in love with. I closed my eyes. I‟d give up any chance I had at my anchors, all the retirement benefits I‟d get at my twenty-year mark, every ribbon and medal on my uniform, to have him back. Not a chance, if the ice in his voice tonight was any indication. A mountain of 15

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medals wouldn‟t get me a drop of forgiveness from him. Weight shifted on the leather sofa, and a moment later, feet padded across the floor. Blinking and sleepy-eyed, Marnie appeared in the doorway. “When did you get home?” she asked. I looked at the clock on the microwave. “Maybe ten minutes ago.” “Damn, I must have been out cold.” She shook her head, then tilted it to get a crick out of her neck. “So did he recognize you?” I groaned. “Oh, yeah. He did.” She cocked her head. “That bad?” “Let‟s just say, if time heals all wounds, I think he still needs more time.” “Ouch.” She grimaced. “Didn‟t I tell you this was a bad idea?” “Yes, dear,” I said. “You were right.” She scowled, but then just shook her head. We‟d been through this enough times. Instead of enrolling myself in one of his classes—even if I did need the math credit—I could have e-mailed him. Or called him. Or showed my face in his office and hoped he‟d give me the time of day. She didn‟t bother getting on my case, though. I knew where she stood, and the damage was done anyway, so she just said, “You eaten yet?” “Yeah,” I lied. “I picked up something on the way home.” “Fast food again?” She grinned and poked my stomach as she walked by. “Getting a head start on being a chief, are we?” “Yeah, this from she who narrowly passed the last PRT.” “Hey.” She glared at me, folding her arms across her chest. “You get a passing score on a mile and a half run when you‟re hungover and have a sprained ankle. Then you can point fingers.” 16

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“Well, whose fault was it you were hungover and crippled for PRT?” “Yours.” She shrugged. “If you hadn‟t let me get so drunk, I wouldn‟t have fucked up my ankle on that curb.” “Yes, I‟m such an awful boyfriend.” I clasped my hands over my heart and sighed dramatically. “Letting you drink yourself stupid, doing nothing to stop you.” “Yeah, exactly.” She laughed and shook her head. “You‟re just a shitty designated driver.” “Did I get you home safely?” I put up my hands. “That was all I was required to do. Babysitting was not part of the job description.” She raised an eyebrow. “So you just did the bare minimum, then, Petty Officer?” “Damn right.” “Underachiever.” “Drunk.” We both laughed. Then she cleared her throat and looked at me. “So, are you going to stay in this guy‟s class?” I exhaled. “I don‟t know yet. I still have a two week window where I can transfer out.” “You might want to do that, then,” she said. “I might.” “You might?” She rolled her eyes. “Justin Michael Hayes. Do you really expect things to get better?” I moistened my lips. “I don‟t know. I have no idea what I expect.” “Okay, but you don‟t exactly stand to gain much,” she said. “Even if you guys settle things, it‟s not like you can date him 17

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again.” I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” “So…?” She raised her eyebrows. I closed my eyes and released a breath. “I don‟t know. Maybe we can at least…put this behind us.” “It was behind you, hon,” she said, her voice gentle. “It was never settled, though.” “Sure about that?” She unfolded her arms and rested her hands on the counter behind her. “Seems to me things were pretty well settled.” “Okay, let me rephrase it,” I said. “We went our separate ways, but it shouldn‟t have ended the way it did.” “And you think it can end differently this time?” I swallowed. “It‟s worth a try.” She eyed me for a moment, then shrugged again. “Well, if it‟s what you need to do. I just don‟t want to see you get hurt more than you already have.” I dropped my gaze. “He‟s the one who got hurt before. I‟m just hoping I can do something about that now.” “Good luck,” was all she said. Something told me I‟d need it.

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CHAPTER 3 CHRIS The day the ship pulled into Guam, Justin and I, along with the entire crew were itching for a few days of liberty. There really was nothing quite like putting on civvies and getting the fuck off the boat after a solid month of long hours, mess deck food, and prison uniforms. When we were in a port like Guam? Even better. White sand beaches, palm trees, and cheap booze could take the sting out of pretty much anything a deployment could dish out. This was my first visit, but my shipmates swore that island was the best kept secret in the Pacific. Justin and I were both E-5s on that cruise, and we‟d been fast friends from the day I‟d transferred onto the ship and into his shop several months ago. Our LPO—lead petty officer—was an utter 19

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dick, and if two shipmates could quickly bond over anything, it was commiserating over the assholes in charge. Then when we deployed, we had to spend nearly every waking hour in the shop, so we passed the time talking about anything and everything in between the mind-numbing tasks that Uncle Sam paid us to perform. Well, we didn‟t talk about everything. I never mentioned the fact that I‟d had trouble breathing since the moment I set foot in the shop for the first time and saw him sitting at the LPO‟s desk with his boots on the desk and a pen in his mouth. His blond hair was cut perfectly high and tight, just like mine and everyone else‟s, but the gleam in his eyes instantly informed me that Petty Officer Hayes was the type who defiantly grew out his hair and probably even a goatee whenever he was on leave. Just because he could. From that moment on, I wanted him, and, of course, I kept that to myself. Don‟t ask, don‟t tell, and all of that bullshit. Even if coming out wouldn‟t have killed my career, it was a moot point. Justin had a girlfriend back in his hometown, and she worked her way into just enough conversations to remind me he was, in every possible way, off the menu. Which, of course, made it that much more painful when we wound up as liberty buddies in Guam. For the entire port call, as long as we were off the ship, we had to be inseparable. Return to the quarterdeck without your liberty buddy? Oh, fucked. Seriously fucked. Justin and I had to be in each other‟s sight until we were back aboard. Not that I minded. Justin was certainly pleasant to look at. Especially with an unbuttoned blue Hawaiian shirt over a white tee and a pair of khaki shorts. Not to mention the dark leather belt that 20

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I was sure existed solely to draw my attention to his narrow waist, flat abs, and— Yeah. This port call was going to be frustrating as all hell. Oh, but it got better. Since we were second class petty officers, we had the privilege of overnight liberty. Our duty schedule had prevented either of us from staying out overnight during our last two port calls, but this time? This time we were free until tomorrow afternoon. All the airmen—E-4s—and below had to be back on the boat by midnight or some other stupid hour, but until we had to muster for duty, Justin and I could stay as far from the ship as humanly possible. Such as, say, in the hotel room we‟d reserved online before the ship pulled in. “Overnight liberty. Oh, sweet, sweet, coveted overnight liberty.” Justin held his liberty card in both hands and kissed it. I laughed. “The perks of being a second class, am I right?” “Damn skippy.” He gestured over his shoulder at the ship. “Because I‟m not getting back on that rusty fucker until I absolutely have to.” “You and me both.” “Well, yeah.” He chuckled. “You‟re not going back without me.” I put a hand to my forehead and sighed theatrically. “Oh, no, forced to stay on shore. What ever will I do?” “Drink like a fish and get laid, if you‟re smart.” He clapped my shoulder, oblivious to what he‟d done to my blood pressure. “Let‟s go.” Get laid. Right. Yeah. Sure. God, I need a beer. I adjusted my backpack, and we headed down the long pier in the aircraft carrier‟s shadow. Just like Hawaii, our last port, the 21

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heat was heavy and the air was thick with humidity, but the wind blowing in off the ocean kept it comfortable. The perfect day for some snorkeling in the crystal clear water, topped off by a night of cold beers in air-conditioned clubs. And a night in a hotel room with Justin. While we waited for a cab, he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Says we can check in any time after eleven.” He glanced at his watch. “By the time we get to the hotel, it‟ll be a little after.” Raising his eyebrows, he met my eyes. “Want to go drop all this crap off before we scope out the snorkeling?” “Yeah, sure.” I swallowed. “Good idea.” His eyes narrowed just slightly. “You all right, man?” “What? Yeah. Of course.” I smiled, and it wasn‟t entirely forced. “Just ready to get the fuck away from that thing.” I gestured at the ship. He chuckled. “I know the feeling.” Nodding toward the ocean, he said, “Just wait till we get in the water. It‟s fucking gorgeous here, I‟m telling you.” “How many times have you been here?” “We stopped in a couple of times on my last cruise,” he said. “One of my favorite ports.” “I can see why.” I‟d been on two deployments, but both were in the Mediterranean. Seven years into my career, and this was my first WestPac cruise. Justin, however, had been in the Pacific ever since he went to his first ship, and he knew the various ports out here like I knew the ones in Sicily, Jordan, and Dubai. Unrequited crush or not, there were worse guys I could have had as my liberty buddy in an unfamiliar port. And he was right about the water. Once we‟d dropped our backpacks at the hotel and wandered down to the beach to join 22

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some guys from the shop, it didn‟t take long before we were all facedown in the water. The tide was out, the current was gentle, the fish were stunning… …and Justin looked damned good in a pair of black swim trunks. I focused as much as I could on the tropical fish and anything else that wasn‟t him. After all, I was in swim trunks, too, and I didn‟t want any of the guys, especially Justin, catching on. I‟d always loved snorkeling and scuba diving, but I couldn‟t remember the last time a single fish fascinated me as long as a weird little blue one did. And it was just the fish that intrigued me. Not the fact that looking at it meant not turning my head a few degrees to my right and watching the ripples of sunlight wander up and down the bare skin of Justin‟s side. Which I didn‟t see. At all. Not once. Fuck, Justin, you have a gorgeous body. One school of tiny silver fish swarmed around me near the end of the reef, and I watched them as intently as I‟d watched the little blue fish. After five or ten minutes, they swam away, and I think I was actually surprised they never arranged themselves to spell out “Justin Hayes is half-naked right over there” or “did you get a look at his cock under those shorts?” When they swam toward Justin and caught his attention, I was losing my mind enough I was sure the fish would spell out “Chris Reuben thinks about you when he beats off.” I was either horny beyond rational thought, going crazy, or both. Once we‟d all had our fill of snorkeling, around the time I was getting ridiculously jealous of the sea urchin in Justin‟s gloved hands, everyone unanimously agreed it was getting close to beer 23

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thirty. Time to shower, change, and hit the clubs. Some of our buddies were E-4s, so we let them come up to our room to shower and change. At least the extra people milling around and talking in here meant I wasn‟t, for the time being, alone with a couple of beds and the unshakable awareness that Justin was naked in the next room. Not that I ever managed to forget he was there, but I had enough distraction to keep from going completely insane. After everyone had showered and dressed, Anderson asked, “You guys coming out to Club Spice?” “Oh, dude, you have to check out Club Spice.” Jensen grinned. “Best strippers on the island, I‟m telling you.” I looked at Justin. “I don‟t know, are we?” He shrugged. “Your call.” “You guys know the place better than I do.” I raised an eyebrow. “Ashley doesn‟t mind you going to strip clubs?” The slightest hint of color bloomed across his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “No, no. She‟s…” He gestured dismissively and grinned. “She doesn‟t care.” I eyed him skeptically. “She doesn‟t?” Shaking his head, he laughed softly. “Trust me, it‟s no big deal. I can look, I just can‟t touch.” While I wasn‟t so sure about being an accomplice to him doing something that probably would upset his girlfriend, it wasn‟t my place to say anything, so I followed the guys out of the hotel and down the street to Club Spice. My liberty buddy‟s stateside girlfriend or none, I couldn‟t say I was terribly keen on going to a place like that anyway, but if it meant giving Justin one more reason to be assured he wouldn‟t be spending the night with a gay guy, I could sit through a strip show. 24

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I thought. Strip clubs in Guam were a hell of a lot racier than the ones back home. Fully nude, full contact, virtually no holds barred. On the way there, Jensen and Anderson had regaled me with stories of guys being pulled up onstage, stripped and flogged. By the time we walked into the club, I was seriously considering running like hell back to the ship, but I wouldn‟t do that to Justin. That, and it would give me away. Had to play along. The unspoken rule in strip clubs was that unless someone was gay or faithfully attached, he didn‟t volunteer to sit anywhere except right at the horseshoe-shaped stage. Even if his monogamous, committed liberty buddy sat safely away from the action with some married friends in a booth. I had an appearance to keep up, though, so my beer bottle and I joined the single guys and less-than-faithful husbands next to the stage. In minutes, the show started. From the booth, and directly in my line of sight across the stage, Justin and the other guys laughed and egged us all on. His smile drove me wild; with a beer in him and without the teethgrinding tension of our job, he was the very picture of relaxed, and he wore relaxed as well as he wore those black swim trunks. He had the kind of smile that could light up a room, and it made me shiver even when shadows and disco lights tried to obscure him. Every time he laughed, or smiled, or just put his lips around the mouth of his beer bottle, my body temperature reacted like every other man‟s in the room probably reacted to the writhing, undulating girl in front of us. In a place like this, being that close to the stage meant that sooner or later, I was participating. Two dozen guys seated around me, hollering and waving dollar bills to catch her attention, and it 25

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only took three dancers before one homed in on me like a cat zeroing in on the one person in the house who wasn‟t interested in petting it. I gulped as she lowered herself onto the edge of the stage, which was chest-height on me. One long leg hooked around me, then the other. The dancer wore only her high-heeled shoes, and she used those heels to pull me closer to the stage. Then she dropped into my lap and wrapped her legs around me. I wasn‟t appalled by the idea of a naked woman against me, but…I didn‟t know how to react. At all. I was sure every time she ran her long nails through my hair, or squirmed in my lap, or almost pressed my face against her breasts, every man in this bar would know I was one hundred percent, not-even-a-little-curiousabout-women gay. I laughed uncomfortably, thanking God for the rush of heat to my cheeks. With any luck, the resulting redness in my face would convince everyone around me that I was just shy. Put on the spot. Stage fright, not the desire to have someone else in this room on my lap. The stripper leaned down and kissed the side of my neck, and I closed my eyes and exhaled. Damn my brain and pretending her soft chin was a sharper, stubbled jaw I‟d long ago memorized. I looked past her at Justin. He laughed behind his beer bottle, but then made eye contact with me, and for a split second, his smile faltered. Then he quickly looked away and licked his lips just before he took a long drink. The stripper sat up, and she grinned at me as she ground against my hard-on. She was only in my lap for half a song, if that, before she kissed me full-on, then took my money and went on to the next guy, who was much more enthusiastic than I was. “Dude,” Anderson said, clapping my shoulder so hard he 26

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almost knocked me into Jensen. “You a virgin or something?” Oh, God. “What?” I reached for my beer. “What are you talking about?” “Dude.” He shook his head. “You had tits right there. Right there!” He gestured in the air like he was grabbing phantom breasts. “And you didn‟t even touch them.” I laughed nervously. “Yeah, but…” I gestured around the room with my beer bottle. “There‟s so many people here, and…” “Holy shit, man,” Jensen slurred. “You passed on boobs ‟cause there‟s people around? What‟re you, gay or somethin‟?” “Oh, yeah, of course.” I rolled my eyes and laughed in spite of the chill running down my spine. “That‟s why I‟m in Club Spice getting a lap dance.” The guys kept ribbing me, but I let the club‟s deafening music drown them out. I carefully avoided looking at Justin. I watched the stripper instead, focusing on her until I‟d calmed myself down and could breathe again. At least subjecting myself to a lap dance meant I‟d done the requisite masquerading as a straight man. With everyone duly convinced that I was as heterosexual as they were, I was free to take my beer, step away from the stage, and let another horny guy take my place. I shouldered my way through the thickening crowd and made my way toward the bar. I was just about to flag down one of the bartenders when a presence beside me caught my attention. I turned, and Justin smiled. He nodded toward the stage. “Didn‟t want to try for another dance?” “What? Oh, I…” I cleared my throat, then held up my nearly empty beer bottle. “Figured I‟d get another drink. And make room 27

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for someone else.” I thought his eyebrows quirked just slightly, but for all I knew, it was just a trick of the flickering disco lights and shadows trying to mess with my head. Like my head needed to be messed with any more tonight. “So, you‟re not going to get one?” I asked. “Me? Oh, no. No.” He dropped his gaze and coughed into his fist. “Ashley would kill me.” “But she doesn‟t mind you coming in here?” “Nah.” He gestured dismissively, but avoided my eyes. “Like I said, I can look all I want, I just can‟t touch.” Before I could rib him about it, he said, “Listen, um, do you want to stick around?” I shrugged. “If you want to.” “Not really.” He sipped his drink and looked around the room, then turned to me again. “I think I‟m just tired from being out in the sun all day.” “Now that you mention it, me, too. Do you want to just—” My throat constricted around my breath. How to say it without sounding suggestive? “We could just go back to the room for all I care.” He drained his beer and set the bottle on the bar. “I think I‟m done for the night.” “Sure.” I nodded, finished my beer, and set it beside his. We fed the rest of the guys a bullshit story about wanting to get some sleep so we could get an early start with snorkeling in the morning, but they didn‟t care. They were drunk off their asses and mesmerized by the naked woman on the stage, so we could have told them we were going back to the hotel to fuck—God, I wish— and they wouldn‟t have batted an eye. On the way up the sidewalk to the place we were staying, 28

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Justin said, “You really don‟t mind calling it an early night?” “No, I‟m good,” I said. “I think you‟re right. Long day in the sun and all of that.” “At least neither of us burned.” He laughed softly. “Nothing like spending a liberty port feeling like shit.” “Tell me about it.” I hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my shorts. “My first day in Turkey, I fucking blistered.” Justin sucked in a breath through his teeth and shuddered. “Oh, man. That had to suck.” “It did. And to boot, I got in trouble for it.” “Seriously?” I nodded. “Fucking chief was looking for a reason to screw with me, said I wasn‟t fit for duty because I‟d done something stupid.” I rolled my eyes. “Surprised he didn‟t send me to mast for destruction of government property.” Justin snorted. “Son of a bitch. I‟d have told him he was welcome to destruct some of my government property.” We both laughed, but when we exchanged glances, the eye contact lingered, hanging on just long enough to make my spine tingle. Then we both shifted our gazes straight forward. Well, I did. I assumed he did, because my skin didn‟t prickle with that certainty that he was still looking at me. The short stretch of sidewalk between Club Spice and our hotel seemed to get longer with every step we took in silence. I couldn‟t figure out how to resurrect the conversation. It wasn‟t that we had nothing to talk about. We could always find something to talk about. I was just afraid that an attempt at “so did you hear Chief Baxter is trying to get half of Shop Three sent to captain‟s mast?” would come out as “I know you have a girlfriend, but I want you so, so bad.” 29

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The silence followed us right up to the elevator in the lobby. Justin reached for the button, but he hesitated, his finger hovering above it and his lips pulled tight. Before I could ask if he was all right, he muttered something under his breath, shook his head, and pushed the button. Staring up at the numbers above the door, he gave a quiet laugh and said, “I wonder if these overnight liberty calls are how rumors get started.” My blood couldn‟t decide between turning hot or cold. I gulped. “What do you mean?” He shrugged. “Just seems like when you‟ve got shipmates sharing rooms, boozing…” He gestured with one hand and let the words trail off. “Well, it‟s not like we don‟t all sleep in the same berthing on the ship,” I said as casually as I could when my heart was beating that fast. “Yeah, but a hotel is—” The elevator‟s bell sounded, and the doors pulled open, leaving us facing the yawning space we were supposed to occupy. Together. Alone. Just the two of us. No one around. On our way up to our room. Where rumors got started. Justin rocked back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, then stepped into the elevator. Blood pounding in my ears, I followed him. So did that silence that had hung between us all the way up the sidewalk. The elevator started up, dinging past each floor. We‟d just passed the first floor when Justin drew in a sudden breath, the kind that usually announces someone‟s about to speak. No air moved, no words came, and as we passed the second floor, he released the breath he‟d drawn. 30

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I coughed to get my own breath moving. “You all right?” He jumped like I‟d shoved him. “Yeah. Yeah. I…” He paused, chewing his lip. “Can I…” Then he looked at me through his lashes. “Can I ask you something personal?” I gulped, but tried to mask my nerves with a shrug. “Sure, go ahead.” “Are…um…” He shifted his gaze to the numbers above the door as we rode past the third floor. “Are you gay?” My stomach twisted and turned, and I couldn‟t release my breath. Did I lie? Did I tell the truth and risk killing my career, not to mention my friendship with Justin? It also occurred to me at that moment that he and I had never so much as touched on the subject of homosexuality. I‟d been too afraid to go anywhere near the topic, and now, standing in an elevator with the question hanging between us, I wondered if the wrong answer might just get my ass kicked. “Chris?” He inclined his head, and when our eyes met, there was no hostility in his. Curiosity, and…something else. His eyebrows knitted together, and as the elevator dinged past the fourth floor, I realized he was as nervous about my answer as I was. An image flickered through my mind of Justin meeting my eyes over the stripper‟s shoulder, of that fleeting second of eye contact before he turned away. Was he… Did I… Could he… Finally, I whispered the only two words I could force past my dry lips, “Are you?” We held each other‟s gazes. His expression offered no sign of 31

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offense, and when he moistened his lips, the flush of pink across his cheekbones sent a mixture of nervousness and arousal up my spine. “I asked you first,” he whispered. The elevator stopped. The doors opened. Neither of us moved. I pulled in just enough breath to come back with, “Why did you ask?” “I‟m…” He fidgeted a little, and when he stopped, he was facing me. And we were just a hair closer together. “I‟m curious.” I mirrored him, turning toward him and closing the distance by a fraction of an inch. “Any particular reason?” The doors slid closed beside us. Justin‟s eyes darted toward them, and his Adam‟s apple bobbed. Then he looked at me again. “Just curious,” he said. I raised an eyebrow. “You‟re just—” He grabbed both sides of my neck and kissed me. Oh, God. Stunned, I did nothing for a couple of seconds. Then I wrapped my arms around him and breathed him in. Oh, God, Justin is…oh, God… He tilted his head and coaxed my lips apart with his own. Balance abandoned me, and I pulled Justin back a step, letting the wall catch me and hold us up. Even that didn‟t help much. Not when my knees were buckling and my spine was melting and holy fuck, Justin Hayes is kissing me. He drew back, but didn‟t let go of me. Voice trembling, he said, “That answer your question?” “Uh…yeah.” I shook my head, struggling to catch my breath after that amazing kiss. “But, what about Ashley?” He laughed shyly. “Ashley doesn‟t exist.” I blinked. “What?” “She‟s a cover story,” he said. “A girlfriend back home to 32

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explain why no one ever saw me hooking up with other women.” “Are you serious?” His cheeks colored a little more. “It sounds stupid, I know. It just, it kept people from asking questions.” I laughed. “Well, you had me fooled.” “That was the—” The elevator dinged and lurched into motion. “Shit,” he muttered, and pulled away. We both scrambled to untuck T-shirts and casually button our Hawaiian shirts to cover up the effect we‟d had on each other. “Damn it,” I said. “Now we get to ride all the way down to the lobby.” “And all the way back up.” We exchanged glances, and both of us laughed. Justin took a deep breath and released it. I did the same. As we watched the numbers count us back down to the first floor, I said, “So Ashley was a cover story.” “Mm-hmm.” He laughed softly. “Worked, didn‟t it?” “Yeah. Yeah, it did.” I chuckled. “I should‟ve done the same. Might‟ve gotten me out of lap dance detail tonight.” Justin snorted. “Lap dance detail?” “What? If the shoe fits…” “True, true, very true.” The elevator came to a stop, dinged, and the doors slid open. Four guys who were probably from the ship, judging by the haircuts and the smell of booze, waited. One of them eyed us. “You guys, uh, getting off?” Not yet, we’re not. I cleared my throat. “No, we‟re going back up.” “I forgot my wallet,” Justin said, punching the fifth floor 33

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button. Oh, good save, Hayes. Good save. They bought it, and joined us in the elevator. One pushed the button for the eighth floor, and the doors pulled together. All the way up, they talked, but Justin and I were silent. I couldn‟t hear a word anyone said, couldn‟t hear the gears and machinery pulling us up to our floor, over the sound of my pounding heart. Mere minutes had passed since I‟d tasted his kiss and nearly lost my already waning sanity after his erection had pressed against mine, but now that we were an arm‟s length apart, I couldn‟t decide if it had really happened or not. Had I imagined the whole thing? I glanced at Justin. He glanced back. We both smiled, and the tingling in the base of my spine told me that, no, I definitely hadn‟t imagined it. My heart thundered even harder. The only sound that made it through was one I‟d heard a dozen times already and had almost learned to ignore. This time, though, it came through loud and clear—the ding that announced we‟d arrived at our floor. If those doors opened any fucking slower… As soon as there was enough space to let me out, I damn near jumped out of the elevator, and Justin wasn‟t far behind. We walked as quickly as we could down the hall toward our room. I reached for my pocket to get out my key, but Justin already had his wallet out and the card key in hand. “Can I confess something?” I asked as we hurried down the hall. He smiled. “Go ahead.” I glanced over my shoulder, just to make sure we were truly alone, and kept my voice as quiet as I could. “Ever since the day I 34

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came to the shop,” I said, grinning in spite of the heat in my face, “I have had the biggest fucking crush on you.” Justin laughed. “Obviously we were on the same page, then, because I‟ve been wanting you so damned bad since then.” He stopped in front of our door and put the key in the reader. “And now…” He glanced at me and winked, then pushed the door open. Once we were inside the room, he closed the door and turned the deadbolt just for good measure. With prying eyes and disapproving shipmates sealed outside, we made it about two steps before we stopped. Arms around each other, bodies pressed together, we lost ourselves in a long, deep kiss. Cradling the back of my head in one hand, he bent and kissed my neck. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, and holy fuck, his stubbled chin felt exactly like I‟d fantasized: warm skin, coarse stubble. His lips were both gentle and demanding, and his hot skin and warm breath made my knees weak. “Christ, Justin,” I whispered. “I want you so fucking bad.” “You have me,” he murmured against the underside of my jaw. “All night. I‟m yours.” I shivered, and his shirt bunched in my fingers as they curled into fists against his shoulders. “Then what are we waiting for?” “Who said we‟re waiting?” He raised his head and kissed me. I gripped both sides of his neck and forced his lips apart with my tongue, and he whimpered against my mouth and held the front of my shirt. Then he shoved me back, breaking the kiss, and we stared at each other, both panting. “Clothes,” he said. “Off. Now.” “No argument here.” I grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him hard, and our shaking, desperate hands tore at clothing like we 35

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didn‟t give a fuck if anything ended up ruined. We kicked off our sandals and shuffled closer to the bed. The shirts we‟d buttoned in the name of discretion were too fucking complicated, so I pushed his up over his head. Then he did the same with mine. T-shirts followed. Belts jingled. Shorts and boxers landed on the floor with the dull thuds of our wallets. Once we were both naked, we didn‟t even bother pausing to look at each other. There‟d be time for that later. I grabbed onto him and kissed him, and Justin pulled me down on top of him on one of the beds. Straddling him, I pressed my hips against his, and I couldn‟t fucking breathe as my cock slid alongside his. I wanted to take my time and savor him, but damn it, I wanted to fuck him. My God, I wanted to be inside him, and I wanted to hear him come while I fucked him. “I don‟t suppose you have condoms with you, do you?” I asked. The sharp breath he released answered my question, and a string of whispered curses were already off my lips when he said, “Damn it, no.” “Fuck.” “We‟ll make do.” Justin pushed me onto my back, and his deep, passionate kiss muffled my whimper of anticipation when he pressed his cock against mine again. Every time he moved, every time that perfect friction lit up my nerve endings like glowing embers, the lack of condoms frustrated me even more. I wanted him to suck my cock. I wanted to fuck him. I didn‟t care who did what to who as long as I didn‟t leave this damned island before I‟d had him every possible way I could have him. “God, we need condoms,” I said, dragging my fingertips down his arms. 36

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“I know.” Justin kissed his way down my neck. “We can get some later. There‟s…convenience stores. Just like in…” He dragged his lower lip along my skin. “Just like in the States. So we can…later on…but for now…” He raised his head and kissed me. Then he moved his hips again. A little harder this time, a little faster, and I forgot all about needing anything that wasn‟t right here or happening right this second. “Oh my God,” I moaned. Closing my eyes, I curved one hand around the back of his neck and the other over his thigh. Just being tangled up in him like this was enough to make me delirious, but his cock moving back and forth over mine was nothing short of mind-blowing. “I‟ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he whispered, breathing hard against my lips. “I didn‟t think you‟d…I couldn‟t…” “You and me both,” I breathed. I rolled my hips to complement his perfect, fluid motions, and we both groaned softly. “Fuck, this can‟t be real.” “Oh, it is.” His lips brushed mine. “It‟s real, because much more of it and I‟m really gonna…oh, God…” He shuddered. My whole body reacted like the shudder had gone right through me, like it was my orgasm that was about to take control and shake me apart. He threw his head back, and I had the most spectacular view of his face as he surrendered, thrust by thrust, to his orgasm—his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes squeezed shut. His parted lips pulled back, tightening into a grimace over his clenched teeth. Then his eyes flew open, his jaw dropped, and a whispered “Oh, fuck…” escaped in a rush of breath as his body shuddered against mine. Before he‟d even started to catch his breath, he shifted his 37

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weight onto one arm, then reached between us and closed his hand around my cock. “I can‟t even tell you how bad I‟ve wanted you like this,” he whispered against my lips. “I wish to God you could fuck me right now, but this? Oh, my God, Chris…” He trailed off and kissed me. I gripped his shoulders for dear life, thrusting my hips and fucking his fist as he stroked me faster and faster. This couldn‟t be real. No goddamned way. I‟d wake up from this dream any second, but I just had to see it to the end first. God, please, let me come before I wake up. He kissed me deeper, stroked me faster, and I thrust harder into his hand until my rhythm fell apart, and his hand was almost too much to take, and I had to break away from his kiss just to breathe in so I could cry out and— “Oh, fuck!” My eyes rolled back, and electricity exploded up my spine, under my skin, everywhere Justin‟s body made contact with mine. I was only distantly aware of semen hitting my stomach or of Justin‟s hand still moving to draw out my orgasm, because his warm breath rushed across the perspiration on my neck and drove me out of my fucking mind. I sank back to the bed, though I couldn‟t remember when my back had lifted off it in the first place. As everything tapered, and I could breathe again, I opened my eyes. I blinked a few times to clear my blurry vision, and for a split second, I was sure I‟d find myself alone in my cramped rack on the ship. But no, I was really here. And so was Justin. He grinned down at me. “Anyone ever told you that you look insanely hot when you come?” I laughed. “No, I can‟t say they have.” “Philistines.” He came down to kiss me again. When he pushed 38

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himself up, he looked between us and chuckled softly. “I guess we should get a shower.” “Ya think?” I slid my hand around the back of his neck again. “Would be a good idea.” But he let me draw him back down to kiss me one more time. When he broke the kiss this time, he touched his forehead to mine and sighed. “You know we could get in a lot of trouble for this, right?” “Yes, I do.” I trailed my fingertips up and down the shaved back of his head. “But that isn‟t stopping you, is it?” “Isn‟t stopping you either.” “No,” I said. “I know we can get in trouble, but for this? I think it‟s worth taking the chance.” He kissed me gently, and his lips pulled into a grin. “Oh, it‟s definitely worth it.”

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CHAPTER 4 CHRIS 9:47 P.M. Christ, had I really been wandering down Memory Lane for the last hour? Sixty minutes. Sixty fucking minutes. All spent leaning back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling, letting the past come in and distract me from…from…whatever it was I‟d been doing before Justin wandered into my office. Sitting up, I scrubbed my hand over my face and exhaled. It wasn‟t like I didn‟t think about Justin all the time, but having him here in my office had sharpened my recollection of everything. The sex was hotter, the emotions ran deeper, and the end. God, the end. Talk about pouring salt on wounds that weren‟t nearly as healed as I‟d thought. 40

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I stared at the empty space he‟d occupied not long ago. Three years, and he could still throw me. Blowing out a breath, I looked at the mess of work laid out on my desk. It wasn‟t much, being this early in the quarter, but I‟d needed to do something. Didn‟t I? Hell, I couldn‟t remember. The papers on my desk didn‟t make sense anymore. The rigid schedule I carried around in my head was as good as written in Martian now. I was tired. That had to be it. After all, I‟d been here all day, aside from going to lunch with a friend and going home a few times to let my dog out. Well, whatever it was I‟d been doing, it could wait until tomorrow. I left everything where it was, not even bothering to take my briefcase home. There weren‟t any papers to grade tonight, so it wasn‟t needed. Halfway to the door, I paused and glanced back at my desk. The yellow cover of my geometry text caught my eye, and I remembered what I‟d been working on—my geometry lecture that was barely half-done. And barely half-done was as good as it was going to get tonight. I locked the door behind me and left the mostly deserted building. A concrete path wound through the courtyard to the parking lot. From there, I crossed the parking lot, which was empty except for a handful of cars, to the community park. Cutting through the park, the walk from my office door to my front door was a little over fifteen minutes. Best commute ever. Not my shortest commute ever. That would have been the three or four minutes it took for me to walk from my rack to my shop on the ship. Great, except it was usually at some god-awful hour, and I‟d work until some unholy hour. 41

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For a while, Justin‟s presence made the shitty hours worth enduring. After the port call in Guam, knowing he‟d be in the shop made coming to work the best part of my day. A few months later, walking to the shop felt like walking to the electric chair. Every. Single. Morning. I wondered how long it would be before this pleasant jaunt across the park became a hike to the gallows. It’s only one quarter, and it’s only two nights a week. I can handle this. I hooked my thumbs in my pockets and kept walking. Though September was better than half over, late summer wasn‟t ready to leave town yet. As I took in a long breath, I couldn‟t help noticing how the humidity moistened the back of my neck and thickened the air just enough to remind me of that dense, tropical heat of Guam. I shivered and shook my head, letting the sailor in me mutter a blue streak of profanity into the night. Nothing could be done about it. For the next twelve weeks, Justin was back in my life, so I needed to just suck it up and deal with it. When I got home, my roommate‟s car was parked in the driveway beside mine and it was still early in the evening, so I didn‟t bother getting my house key out of my pocket. As soon as I pushed open the front door, a grunt came from the other room, followed by skittering claws and thudding paws. I had about two seconds to squat down before Raven, my black lab, jumped into my arms. “Did you miss your daddy?” I laughed as she flailed around and tried to lick my face. “Did you miss me, baby?” She flipped onto her back, tail wagging so hard her whole body shook, and I scratched her belly. Every time I came home, she greeted me this 42

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way, and it never failed to lift at least some of the weight of the world off my shoulders. So what if I had early classes tomorrow, a lecture that still needed to be planned, and my damned exboyfriend was on my roll sheet? My dog was happy to see me. My roommate, Scott, appeared in the doorway between the hall and the living room. “Would you mind telling her she‟s a little too big to be a lapdog?” “Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. “You‟re the one who encourages her to get up on the couch.” “Yeah, well, when you get home and she launches herself off me and—” “You could tell her to get down before I get home.” “But…she‟s usually so comfortable…” “And whose fault is that?” I looked at my dog. “You do make yourself comfortable, don‟t you?” She just panted and wagged her tail. I patted her one more time, then stood. Glancing into the living room, I didn‟t see anyone else on the couch where Raven and Scott had been watching TV. “Just you tonight?” I asked. “Yeah, Shelli‟s working on her thesis,” he said. I grimaced. “I know how that goes.” I started into the kitchen, throwing over my shoulder, “Shouldn‟t you take a hint and get some work done?” “I‟ll have you know,” he said, following me with the dog trotting at his heels, “I put in an honest evening‟s work on it before your dogchild and I decided to watch some television.” “Uh-huh.” I took some sort of unhealthy frozen dinner out of the freezer. As I tore the box open, I said, “So if I log into World of Warcraft, you‟ll be the exact same level you were when I got on this afternoon?” 43

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He pursed his lips. “Well, maybe not the exact same level…” “That‟s what I thought.” I poked a couple of holes in the cellophane covering the…whatever the hell it was I was about to eat. “You know, if you could do your dissertation on questing and leveling, you‟d have graduated by now.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. Then, in a singsong voice, he said, “So, how was your first day of school?” “Oh, you‟re funny.” I shot him a good-natured glare over my shoulder. As I put my “dinner” in the microwave and started it, I said, “It wasn‟t bad.” “Kids all behaved?” he asked with a smirk. “No one stealing crayons or eating paste?” I chuckled. “No, but I have a feeling some of my afternoon students may be indulging in some less than kosher habits.” I put my thumb and forefinger together and lifted them to my lips like I was holding a joint. Scott laughed. “Oh, that‟ll help them on exam day.” “Yeah, really. There any beer left?” My roommate eyed me. “Since when do you drink on a work night?” “You didn‟t answer my question.” “I think there‟s a couple of cans left,” he said. “You gonna answer mine?” I opened the refrigerator, and sure enough, we had a couple of cans soaking up the cold on the bottom shelf. My mouth watered as I pulled a can off the six-pack ring. Scott shifted his weight. “Dude, if you‟re already drinking on the first night, you‟re going to be hitting up the potheads for some of their shit by the time midterms roll around.” I sighed as I popped the tab. “We‟ll see if I last that long.” 44

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He inclined his head. “Everything all right?” I took a drink, then set the can down. “Depends. How much do you want to hear about my love life?” Scott blinked. “Your…what? What the hell does that have to do with work?” Laughing bitterly, I raised the can to my lips again. “Up until a few hours ago, I was kind of wondering the same thing.” “You‟re not doing one of your students, are you?” I almost choked on my beer. “No. Well, not anymore.” His eyebrows jumped. “One of your exes?” I nodded. The microwave beeped, so I turned to get my food out. “That‟s a hell of a coincidence,” Scott said. “Something tells me it‟s not a coincidence,” I muttered. I slid the plastic tray of some sort of pasta onto a plate. As I took my dinner to the table, Raven trotted and panted beside me. As soon as I sat, she dropped into an undignified, drooling heap at my feet. “You know,” Scott said. “I could think of subtler ways for someone to stalk you than showing up in your class.” I laughed. “Oh, he‟s not a stalker. I mean, I‟m not afraid of him or think he‟ll do anything, I just…” I trailed off, my humor fading. I picked up a forkful of nuked pasta and blew on it to cool it off. “I don‟t know. I‟m not worried about him. I just don‟t know what the fuck he‟s doing in my class.” Satisfied the food on the fork was sufficiently cool, I took a bite. Why did we buy this shit again? “So what happened with this guy?” Scott asked. “I mean, I‟m guessing you guys aren‟t exactly chummy anymore if him showing up in your class has you diving into a beer can on a weeknight.” I sniffed. “No. No, we‟re not chummy anymore.” Scott fidgeted. He was certainly never the type to pry into my 45

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personal life or anyone else‟s, but he was right. I wasn‟t a drinker, especially not when I had to work the next day. He‟d known me long enough to be concerned. Sighing, I sat back and looked at him. “Long story short, we were both on the same ship on my last cruise.” “Isn‟t there some rule against that?” “Lots of rules against it.” I took a quick bite of the bland pasta, then washed it down with a sip of beer. “That was part of the problem, actually. We dated, kept it on the down-low, everything was fine.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Then he ended up getting promoted, became my boss, and let the power go to his head.” “Damn. Sounds like you got a raw deal, having to work for your man while he‟s being a douche.” “Tell me about it.” I picked up a piece of chicken between my thumb and forefinger, blew on it to make sure it was fairly cool. Raven sat up, tags jingling and tail thumping on the floor. Just as she knew I would, I tossed her the piece of chicken and, in a snap of teeth, it was gone. Scott chuckled. “One of these days, she‟s going to get your finger.” “No, she‟s going to get your finger.” I picked up another forkful of crappy food. “Because I‟m smart enough to throw food to her instead of hand it to her. I mean, have you noticed most of her bad habits involve you, not me?” “Oh, whatever.” “Just saying.” I took a bite and immediately went for my beer, mentally making a note to buy something halfway decent on my next trip to the grocery store. “Yeah, okay.” He tapped his fingers on the edge of the counter. “So anyway, as far as this guy is concerned, sounds like the tables 46

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have turned, haven‟t they?” I cocked my head. “What do you mean?” “Things went to shit when he was your boss,” he said. “And now you‟re the teacher, he‟s the student.” “True.” I picked at my unappetizing meal with my fork. “The thing is, it‟s not like I can confront him about it. Yeah, I‟m the boss in the situation, but that also ties my hands. There are certain things I just can‟t say to a student.” “Doesn‟t mean you can‟t ask him why he‟s in your class.” Scott shrugged. “It‟s a reasonable question without coming out and saying anything about your relationship.” “I did ask him what he‟s doing in my class,” I said dryly. “He said „learning algebra.‟” Scott laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry. Admit it, that was a good comeback.” “Oh, it was a classic Justin comeback,” I said. “And makes me wonder if he does have some sort of ulterior motive, like—” I made a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, I don‟t want to dump all my relationship shit on you.” “It probably serves me right.” He turned and opened the fridge. As he leaned into it and moved stuff around, probably in search of something, he said, “I‟ve certainly whined enough about Shelli to you.” I chuckled. “Good point.” “You weren‟t supposed to agree with that.” He emerged from the refrigerator with a bottle of water. “Well, it‟s not like I can argue with it.” Muttering under his breath, he twisted the top off the bottle. “Yeah. Anyway. I don‟t think there‟s any rules against pulling him aside and just asking him what the deal is.” 47

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“Not like I can force an answer out of him.” I set my fork down and reached back to rub my neck with both hands. “And things could get touchy if anyone finds out. Not that I would tell anyone, but…” I shook my head. “Man, if the powers that be catch wind of this…” “Chris, you‟re not dating him now.” Scott gestured with his water bottle. “It would be another thing entirely if you started sleeping with a student, but this is someone you were doing long before he was a student or you were a teacher. No one needs to know about it, and even if they do, you‟re not doing anything wrong.” “On paper, no, I‟m not.” I started picking at my food again. Either it was gross, or I wasn‟t hungry, or both, but I wasn‟t finishing it. “The thing is, it could get stupidly political either way. I don‟t really want anyone there to know I‟m gay, for one. Then, depending on how someone looks at it, either I‟ve slept with a student, or I‟m teaching an ex-lover. Either way, someone could scream conflict of interests or…” I gestured sharply. “One way or another, it could blow up in my face. Especially since this is my first damned quarter. I‟m not even close to having tenure.” “Hmm, yeah, I can see your point.” Scott shifted his weight. “So what can you do?” “Don‟t know.” I absently pushed the appalling pasta away. “Just deal with it, I guess.” “Have fun with that,” he said. “Gee, thanks.” I gestured at Raven. “By the way, has she been out recently?” Raven‟s tags jingled as she sat up. Scott laughed. “Well, she has, but something tells me she won‟t settle down now unless she gets to go out.” 48

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The second he said the last word, my dog was on her feet and sliding across the floor to crash into the back door. I glared at Scott. He just laughed. “Have fun. G‟night, man.” “G‟night, jackass.” He chuckled and left the kitchen. Raven jumped up and down, spinning in circles by the door. When I stood, she couldn‟t stand it anymore and added a shrill bark to the mix. I snapped my fingers at her. “Raven, no.” She quieted and dropped onto her haunches, but still whined softly and wagged her tail hard enough she probably could have knocked the door open with it. “That‟s a good girl.” I got rid of my half-eaten dinner and dropped the empty beer can in the recycling. When I started toward the door, and she could barely contain her wiggling and whimpering. As soon as the door was open, she was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the backyard. Had it not been for her tags and her frantic sniffing, she could have been impossible to find in the dark. All black or not, though, it wasn‟t hard to figure out exactly where she was at any given moment. It may have just been the fact that she was young—she was just barely out of the puppy stage—but she had all the stealth of a glow-in-the-dark marching band. After a minute or two, she ran up to the steps with a stick in her mouth. She dropped it at my feet, then sat, wagging her tail and panting. When I reached for the stick, she woofed softly. I laughed and picked it up. It was late, it was dark, but I couldn‟t say no to my baby. I threw the stick into the darkness, and she took off after it. When she brought it back, I threw it again. 49

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The third time, I swung my arm, but didn‟t let the stick go. Raven disappeared into the shadows, but reappeared a second later, glaring at me. Very funny, Dad. Throw it for reals this time, you dick. Chuckling, I really threw it this time. She chased after it, and when she brought it back, she dropped it at the bottom of the steps on top of her other sticks and toys, right where she left everything after I‟d thrown it the required three times. Who says dogs can‟t count? She trotted onto the deck and stood by the door. I dried off her paws, then let her back in the house. “Raven, bedroom.” Like I needed to tell her. She‟d already disappeared down the hall, leaving me alone in the kitchen with the echoes of her thundering steps and my command. Whatever, Dad. I’m going because I want to, not because you told me to. In the bedroom, she was already parked on the bed, ears perked up and tail wagging. I patted her a few times, then went about getting ready for bed. By the time I came back, she had already jumped off my bed into her own bed on the floor and was curled up, ready to call it a night. I scratched her ears one more time before I climbed into bed myself. Same routine every night: throw the toy, come upstairs, get in bed, good night. At least some things in my life were still normal. * * * Tuesday‟s classes were a breeze. Wednesday‟s? Not so much. The lectures went smoothly, attendance was solid, and nobody fell asleep. Even my resident potheads more or less paid attention, 50

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though they may have just been staring at the multicolored stripes on my tie. I caught onto that when I absently adjusted it at one point, and two of the stoners jumped. Still, they were more amusing than anything. It was the anticipation of my seven o‟clock class that had my palms sweating and my heart pounding all day. And now, here I was. 6:53 P.M. Seven minutes to go. I arranged my notes on the podium, then turned to write a few things on the board. Each time the door opened and someone new came in, I didn‟t look. I didn‟t want to know when he was here. That, and I didn‟t want my students wondering why I kept throwing nervous glances at the door, or why those nervous glances stopped or changed direction after Justin showed up. At exactly two minutes before seven, I couldn‟t not notice when he came strolling into my classroom. He was in civvies tonight, and those tight jeans and white Tshirt emphasized that gorgeous ass and those incredible shoulders to the point of distraction. As if that wasn‟t enough, his sleeves offered the most tantalizing glimpse of some ink on his left arm. Only a few lines and curves peeked out from beneath the sleeve, leaving me wondering what hid beneath that thin white fabric. No. No. I didn‟t give a shit. Stop pouring salt in your own wounds, Reuben. Ignore him. At least he had the good graces to sit in the back row and off to the side. He also had on a baseball cap, which shaded his disarming eyes. Normally I preferred my students to take off their hats—made it easier to see who was paying attention and who was nodding off—but I‟d make an exception for my 51

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Monday/Wednesday evening class. Ignore him, Chris. Now. I ignored him, called my class to order, and started the lecture. I wrote a pair of equations on the board. The first was fairly complex. The second was simply “x” equals three. I gestured at the first. “An equation like this is merely a more complex way of expressing this.” I pointed at the simpler equation. “Think of it like this. When someone gives you driving directions, and they tell you to turn left at stoplight at the bottom of a hill next to the bank and grocery store, it‟s no less accurate than your GPS saying simply „turn left on Main Street.‟ Same information, simpler form. And that‟s basically what you‟ll be doing: simplifying equations.” I pointed at the second equation again. “Simplify, simplify, simplify.” Oh, if only I could apply that principle to certain aspects of my life. Then again, maybe I could. Or at least face them down and figure out what needed to be done to make things…less complicated. At a few minutes before nine, I wrapped up my lecture and dismissed the class, but stopped Justin on his way out. He hung back, and eyed the door nervously as it closed after his last classmate. I leaned against one of the desks and folded my arms across my chest. “I won‟t keep you long. I just have a question for you.” He swallowed hard. “Okay, shoot.” I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you in my class?” He shrugged. “It fit my schedule.” “Two other algebra I classes are available in this same time slot,” I said. “Plus there are three online or correspondence classes 52

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this quarter. And I know my name was listed, so it wasn‟t like you picked an „instructor TBA‟ class.” Justin‟s cheeks darkened, and he looked away. “Just be honest with me,” I said quietly. “Please.” He took a breath. “Okay, maybe I didn‟t think it through as much as I should have, but…I saw your name on the list, and I…” He chewed his lip, then finally met my eyes. “I guess I just wanted to see you again.” I blinked. “I don‟t suppose it crossed your mind that I might not want to see you, did it?” I cringed even before he did, and went on, “Look, I have a job to do. Having you here, I mean, I‟m not going to lie. It‟s distracting. I‟m still getting the hang of this fucking job, and now I have to try to concentrate with you in the room.” Justin thumbed his chin. “Maybe it would help if we sat down and hashed out our unfinished business.” “No.” I put up my hands and shook my head. “There is nothing to discuss.” “Isn‟t there?” “Nothing that will change anything, no.” “Then what can we do?” “It‟s in your hands,” I said. “I can‟t throw you out. You can stay in the class, and there‟s nothing I can do about it. Or, you can transfer to one of the other classes and we can be done with all of this. I can‟t make you do either one.” He pursed his lips. “There‟s really nothing to talk about, then? Either I stay in your class or go, but…that‟s it?” “That‟s it.” I set my jaw. “I‟m your instructor now, and that‟s all I can be. Which means our conversations stay related to this class and nothing more.” 53

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He raised an eyebrow. “We can‟t even discuss the past?” “Oh, I‟m sorry,” I said as sarcastically as I could. “You‟re not big on professional obligations preventing us from addressing personal issues? Tough shit.” He looked away, but said nothing. Gentler now, I said, “The only options are what I‟ve put out there. Stay in this class, or transfer out. That‟s all I‟m offering.” “Well, in that case…” Justin adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “I guess I‟ll see you on Monday.”

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CHAPTER 5 JUSTIN This was definitely a bad idea. Sitting in the second row, I watched Chris scrawling equations and fractions and God knows what else on the white board. Three weeks into the quarter, and I still had no idea what he was talking about. In part, because he was Chris, and his very existence was distracting. But it was also the subject matter. To put it mildly, algebra baffled me. Always had. I‟d been an honor student in high school, and kept solid As and Bs in college, but I hit a brick wall when algebra came into play. That, and there were few things in this world that could make me feel more like an idiot than being just shy of thirty and still not being able to grasp what seemed like basic concepts. Or being so 55

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easily distracted by the presence of a man I should have long since gotten over. In my defense, I wasn‟t the only one in the room watching Chris with something on the mind besides variables and order of operations. The three girls sitting to my right all looked like they were a breath away from openly swooning over him. And even though he isn’t even a little bisexual, they probably have a better chance with him than I do. My heart sank. Just what I needed. My conscience reminding me again about how far gone he really was. After a while, Chris looked at his ever-present watch. “It‟s just about eight, so why doesn‟t everyone take a break and be back here at ten after?” I left my book and notes on my desk and followed my classmates outside. Several lit up cigarettes or wandered across the courtyard to the vending machines. The smell of tobacco was tempting, but I ignored it. I only smoked on deployments, and even that was maybe two packs over the course of six months. I had to be super stressed to light up. Maybe during midterms. Standing upwind of the smokers, I took out my cell phone and clicked on the web browser. I pulled up the community college‟s website on my phone and found the link for the tutoring center. Well. That was a shock. The hours were all during my working hours. There was someone there from five to six in the evenings, but even though my shift technically ended at five, I was lucky to be out the door before six. So much for that idea. I made a note for myself to call them tomorrow and see if I could arrange something in the evening or on a weekend, but I wasn‟t holding my breath. I supposed I could ask Chris. Yeah, that would be a good idea. The last thing he wanted to 56

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do was spend any more time with me than he had to, and I wasn‟t sure I could handle his disgust one-on-one. As I walked back into the room, Chris glanced up and made eye contact for a fleeting second, but quickly shifted his gaze back to his notes. Not quite quickly enough to mask the flicker of bitterness that tightened his lips and narrowed his eyes, though. I get it, Chris. I hurt you. I’m sorry. I could always transfer into another class. There were three other evening classes that fit my schedule and would give me the credit I needed. No. No, I was not transferring out. Transferring out of Chris‟s class smacked of admitting defeat. Acknowledging I was wrong to even consider doing this, and ducking out of the room with my tail between my legs. And asking him for help was no more palatable. Did I really want Chris knowing how much this subject boggled my mind? Well, he‟d know sooner or later anyway. Around the time I turned in an exam. Oh, pride, you are a bitch. Nine weeks to go. I could do this. The math, the distraction, the proximity to him, all of it. I could do it. Somehow. * * * “Ready?” Standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, I tugged at the sleeve of my uniform‟s dinner jacket. “Almost.” Marnie glared at the bathroom mirror and fussed with the medals on her chest. “Mind giving me a hand?” “Sure.” I took the row of medals from her and carefully pinned them to her jacket. “I swear these things exist only to drive us crazy.” 57

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“No shit,” she muttered. It was the Navy ball tonight, and our command insisted on dinner dress blues, which were like a hybrid of dress blues and a tuxedo. The most formal attire in our seabags. Instead of our normal-sized medals, we wore these ridiculous mini medals that were an absolute nightmare to get into place. For us, anyway. The rest of the fleet could probably do this in their sleep, but Marnie and I were doomed to fight with the little bastards year after year. “There.” I let go of the medals. “Squared away.” She inspected it in the mirror, then gave a nod of approval. “Thanks. And you didn‟t even stab me in the boob this time.” “I didn‟t? You know, I think it is a little crook—” She slapped my hand away. “Fuck you, Hayes.” With uniforms in order, we went downstairs. Emily looked up from the couch and offered us a watery smile. “Well, you two look awesome, as always.” “Think they‟ll let us just show our faces, then run like hell?” I asked. Marnie elbowed me. “Come on, it‟s not that bad.” “Yes, it is.” “Wimp,” Emily said with a smirk. “Easy for you to say.” I fussed with my sleeve again. “You get to stay home.” “Well, there are some perks to being the girlfriend instead of the boyfriend.” “You two.” Marnie rolled her eyes. “Behave yourself while I‟m gone, would you, love?” “Do I have to?” Emily asked. “You do.” She leaned over the back of the couch, and they shared a long, gentle kiss. They murmured something I couldn‟t 58

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hear, then Marnie started to stand up, but Emily grabbed her wrist. “Wait. I smudged your makeup.” She ran her thumb along Marnie‟s lower lip. “There. Sorry about that.” Marnie smiled. “Not to worry.” She kissed her girlfriend once more, then stood and faced me. “All right, let‟s get this over with.” We collected my wallet, her purse, and my car keys, and shuffled out to the garage. The base was about twenty minutes away, and for the first ten, neither of us said a word. Mile after mile, my heart sank deeper in my chest. I thought I was used to doing this. Show up, play the happy couple, make sure everyone knew how straight we were, and go home. I just didn‟t know if I had the energy to fake it tonight. All the pretending and masquerading was getting old and, lately, it just served as a salt-in-the-wound reminder of what a similar charade had cost me. “You okay?” Marnie asked after a while. I sighed and tapped my thumbs on the wheel. “Yeah, I‟m fine.” “Uh-huh. Am I supposed to buy that, or keep pressing?” I laughed half-heartedly. “Okay, you got me. I‟m distracted.” “Distracted?” She snorted. “Is that what you call it?” “Well, what else would you call it?” “Oh, I don‟t know,” she said. “Under normal circumstances, I‟d say you were just twitterpated over someone, but under these circumstances…” She eyed me. “My psychic powers tell me this has something to do with a certain math teacher of whom you have carnal knowledge, and you being so wrapped up in him you can‟t see straight.” I chewed my lip. “You‟re good at this.” “I do know you,” she said. “And even if I didn‟t, you‟ve been wearing it on your sleeve since the quarter started.” 59

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I said nothing. A long, silent mile passed before I finally spoke. “How long are we supposed to keep doing this?” I gestured at her, then myself. “I know it‟s killing you. And it bugs the hell out of Emily.” Marnie looked out the windshield. “I don‟t know. Even with DADT out of the way, I don‟t want to come leaping out of the closet, you know?” “Yeah, I hear that,” I said. “But…I mean, do we just keep doing this, year after year?” “I don‟t know what choice we have,” she said softly. “Officially or not, coming out will make it harder for either of us to advance. And once we do advance, then we‟ll catch even more hell for this whole charade we‟ve been pulling the last couple of years. We‟re kind of damned if we do, damned if we don‟t.” I blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know, but it‟s been bugging me a lot more lately. This whole secret and smokescreen thing was what fucked things up between me and Chris in the first place.” “Um, Justin,” she said. “You fucked things up between you and Chris.” I shot her a glare. “Yes, I know. And I accept responsibility for that. You know what I meant.” “I hear what you‟re saying,” she said, her voice gentler. “If it wasn‟t for all this bullshit, you two never would have been in the position for things to fall apart the way they did.” “Exactly.” I scratched the back of my neck and sighed again. “I guess it‟s just killing me that things turned out the way they did with us. And why? Because in addition to me being an idiot, there are people in this world who can‟t stand the thought of people being gay.” “Preaching to the choir, babe,” she said. 60

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“It‟s such bullshit,” I muttered. “You ever tempted to just come out and be done with it?” “All the time. Every time I argue with Emily about it, believe me, I‟m ready to go into work the next day and just tell everyone I‟m a fucking lesbian and they can all get over it.” She shook her head and looked out the window again. “Thing is, once one of us decides to come out, the other might not have a lot of choice.” I glanced at her. “Why not? I mean, if I were to come out, as far as everyone else is concerned, you‟re the jilted girlfriend who I deceived and screwed over. There‟s no reason for them to believe you have a girlfriend of your own.” “No, that‟s true,” she said. “But it‟s going to make us both the center of all kinds of gossip. Remember last year when everyone found out Chief Wayland was doing like three other wives? Then within like a week, it came out that his wife was also screwing around? Nobody would have ever paid any attention to her if he hadn‟t been busted. So, my concern is, one of us comes out, the other is suddenly going to be in the gossip spotlight.” “Good point.” I shook my head. “Who knew we‟d be digging ourselves into a hole by doing this?” “It was either that or dig ourselves right out of the Navy,” she said dryly. “True. I just…I feel like we shouldn‟t have to use each other like this, you know?” She looked at me, cocking her head a little. “Is that what‟s really bothering you? The fact that you and I have to fake this, or what all the cloak and dagger shit did to you and Chris?” I moistened my lips. “Both.” “Maybe you need to talk to him and sort it out.” “I tried. He isn‟t interested in talking to me.” 61

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I pulled up to the gate and rolled down the window. I handed our IDs to the sentry. After he‟d looked them over, he handed them back and waved us through. As I drove onto the base, Marnie asked, “So, why not transfer out of his class?” I chewed the inside of my cheek, but didn‟t say anything. “Justin,” she said softly. “You had to know it would hurt to be around him, and you know nothing‟s going to change until you talk to him. If he refuses to talk to you, then why are you still doing this to yourself?” “It‟s too late to transfer out now,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I could try talking to him again, but every time I think about it, I realize how much it all obviously hurt him. And I‟m not sure I can handle listening to him tell me how much he can‟t stand the sight of me.” I swallowed. “Because the more I‟m around him, the more I realize how much I still love him.” “I know you do, hon, but…” She shook her head. “In the situation you‟re in now? You can‟t expect him to risk his career, can you?” I laughed bitterly. “You know, just once, I‟d like my personal life to not come down to someone risking a career.” “We‟re gay,” she said with an apologetic shrug. “It‟s par for the course.” “It‟s bullshit,” I muttered. “Yeah, it is. But what can we do?” “I don‟t know,” I whispered. “To be honest, though, I doubt he‟s even worried about his career. I can‟t imagine he‟d want anything to do with me.” “Even if he did, would that change anything?” “What do you mean?” 62

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“Right or wrong, like it or not,” she said softly, “getting back together could fuck you both over. I know you want to bury the hatchet with him, and I think you should. But it doesn‟t take a genius to figure out you want more than that. I think before you approach him and settle things, you need to ask yourself what you hope to gain, and if potentially getting back together with him— however remote the possibility—is worth what it could do to your career.” I didn‟t answer right away, but after a minute of silence, I looked at her and whispered, “Yes. It would be.” Her brow furrowed with dozens of unasked questions, and undoubtedly a verbal slap or two about what the fuck I was thinking, but all she said was, “Then what are you waiting for?” And for that, I didn‟t have an answer. I pulled up in front of the enlisted club and scowled at the building as I put the car in park. We got out, adjusted our uniforms and checked each other‟s to make sure nothing was out of place. Then I offered her my elbow. “Ready?” “As always.” She slid her hand over my elbow. “This is going to be fun,” I grumbled. “It always is, darling.” She held out her other hand. “And I believe it‟s your year to drive home, but why don‟t I drive?” “You‟re a saint.” I dropped the keys into her outstretched hand. “I owe you big time.” She took the keys and pocketed them. “Let‟s get this over with.” “Yep.” We started toward the door. “Show me to the bar.” The ball was stuffy and dull, just like it was every year. Alcohol was poured, elbows were rubbed, asses were kissed. Same 63

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shit, different year. I didn‟t usually drink heavily at these things, but tonight, I needed it. Marnie tried to cut me off at one point, probably concerned I was going to drown my internal censor and say something stupid, but a pointed look told her I was still plenty coherent. We stayed until everyone from the chiefs on up to the commanding officer were trashed enough not to notice us leaving, and by that point, I needed Marnie‟s help getting out to the car. By the time we got home, I was at least steady enough on my feet to get into the house, so Marnie left me to my own devices and went to join Emily in her bedroom. I retreated to my empty room and got into bed. Lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, I was too drunk to think, but too sober to fall asleep. And much, much too sober not to think of Chris.

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CHAPTER 6 JUSTIN Chris and I were both climbing the walls by the time the ship pulled into Perth, Australia. Three weeks had crawled by since the one night we‟d been in a bed together on dry land. From the moment we‟d stepped out of our hotel room, we kept each other at arm‟s length. Aside from the occasional exchanged look when we were absolutely sure we were alone, we kept everything between us completely out of even each other‟s sight. It didn‟t help that I had an unopened box of condoms and a bottle of lube tucked under my rack. Chris and I had left our room in Guam long enough to buy those necessities, and we made it halfway back to the hotel with every intention of fucking until 65

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dawn when some of our buddies flagged us down. We started to make our excuses—early morning, snorkeling, all of that—but they cut us off and said someone‟s liberty buddy had gone missing. That was when we realized there were only three of them. Number four was drunk off his ass at one of the clubs, left to take a piss, and never came back. When his liberty buddy went looking for him, he was nowhere to be found. They were all E-4s, and two were from our shop, which meant we now had some responsibility in the situation because we knew about it. If anything happened to the missing airman, or his buddy returned to the ship without him, we could all go to captain‟s mast, which was a step down from a court-martial. Grumbling and cursing, in between exchanging frustrated looks, Chris and I helped hunt the guy down. We found him around two in the morning, passed out on the beach behind the club where he‟d disappeared. We took his stupid ass back to the ship and safely down to medical, got bitched out for our guys being out past curfew, and found ourselves a cab back to the hotel. By the time we made it to our room, it was nearly three-thirty, and we were both exhausted. We also both overslept, which meant scrambling to check out and get back to the ship in time to muster for duty. And the condoms? Still. Fucking. Unopened. Tonight, at least some of them were getting used. I couldn‟t make it another goddamned day without sleeping with him. If I had things my way, we‟d have gone straight from the quarterdeck to a taxi to our hotel to our room, into bed, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars, fuck me now. Since the universe had yet to appoint me its supreme dictator, though, that wasn‟t going to happen. We had to play it cool and go 66

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through all the motions to make sure everyone knew we were completely heterosexual. Plenty of guys shared hotel rooms during overnight port calls, and we just had to convince everyone we intended to share ours as platonically as the next pair of liberty buddies. So with liberty cards in hand and the “necessities” carefully tucked away in my overnight bag, Chris and I joined the other guys on the quarterdeck. We took a cab to our hotel, and just as we had in Guam, we let some of the junior guys come up and use the shower before we hit the town. After all, hotel bathrooms were more private and had hotter water than anything on the boat. While everyone took their turn in the shower, I was a nervous, hand-wringing wreck. I blamed my jitteriness on the need to throw back a few drinks, and for good measure, said I‟d had a couple of Red Bulls before going ashore. Jensen reclined on the bed, obliviously watching TV from the very place where I fully intended to have my way with Chris before long. When Anderson stepped out onto the balcony, for a smoke, I followed him. I promised him three cigarettes back at the ship in exchange for one now, and as I lit up the coveted cigarette, I mumbled a few excuses about the chain of command stressing me out. I wasn‟t really craving nicotine at that point, but I couldn‟t spend another minute in the same room as Chris, a box of condoms, and a bottle of lube. All too soon, I snuffed out what was left of my cigarette. “Any chance I can bum another one off you?” He stopped mid-drag and stared at me. “Jesus, man. Kane been that far up your ass this week?” Cute choice of words, dickhead. “No, I‟m just trying to unwind 67

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a bit.” He shrugged and pulled out the pack. I reached for it, but hesitated. There‟d been enough interference keeping Chris and me from everything we wanted to do. He wasn‟t a smoker, so the smell might put him off. Best not to overdo it. “Actually, I think I‟m good.” I withdrew my hand. “I probably just need a beer or two and I‟ll be fine.” “Suit yourself.” He tucked the pack into the back pocket of his shorts and resumed smoking his own cigarette. The sliding glass door opened, and Chris stepped out. He had a plain black shirt, totally unbuttoned, over his white T-shirt. I was sure the wind was taunting me by playing with the open shirt and tugging at it while I had to stand here and pretend I didn‟t want to grab both sides, pull him against me, and kiss him. The warm wind played with my own shirt, which was unbuttoned the same as his. The collar fluttered, and when I idly straightened it, I met Chris‟s eyes. He quickly looked out at the city, and I hoped Anderson thought I‟d shivered because of the breeze and nothing else. Chris cleared his throat. “Jensen‟s out of the shower, so if you guys are ready, we can probably take off in a few minutes.” “Ready whenever y‟all are.” Anderson snuffed out his cigarette. “Stay here much longer, this one‟s gonna start chainsmoking.” He gestured at me. I laughed. “One cigarette is not chain-smoking.” “No, but eyeballing the second right after you‟ve had a first?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That‟s how it starts, Hayes. That‟s how it starts.” He clapped my shoulder and went inside. Chris smirked. “Developing a bad habit, are we?” 68

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“Only to keep myself sane until I can indulge in my other bad habit.” Our eyes met, and we both shivered this time. This was the closest either of us had come to blatantly stating what we intended to do tonight. Of course we both knew, but now it was out in the open. And the clock was ticking. Soon. Very, very soon. He cleared his throat. “So, I guess we‟d better get going.” His eyes darted toward the sliding glass door, and when he looked at me again, he lowered his voice. “Sooner we leave, sooner we can come back.” We exchanged grins, then went back into the room. Fortunately, everyone had agreed on a restaurant a few blocks from the hotel instead of a strip club. Last time, I‟d been able to avoid subjecting myself to a lap dance by waving the girlfriend card around like a well-done fake ID. Chris, however, was conspicuously single, and I‟d never seen him look less at ease than he was with the stripper in his lap. I‟d been almost certain for a while that Chris was gay. He was adept at hiding it, but little tells added up. Ready-made excuses when anyone pressed him about his taste and experience with women. How he‟d go from social and conversational to completely closed off during PT; a lot of guys weren‟t very chatty when they were working out, but Chris made a point of not even looking at anyone, never mind engaging them. We both slept in the same berthing on the ship, and just like during PT, he was eyes-down and lips-sealed whenever we were in that area. I‟d suspected. I‟d wondered. After the strip show? I was ninetynine point nine percent certain. Now, I knew for certain. And tonight? Oh, tonight, it was on. Eventually. 69

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Sitting in a booth with a man who couldn‟t be any hotter and a beer that needed to be a hell of a lot colder, I was about to beg Anderson for another cigarette. “So, you guys going snorkeling tomorrow?” Chris asked the guys. Anderson snorted. “Not if it means getting out of bed at crap o‟clock.” “What?” I laughed. “Dude, you‟re out of bed at crap o‟clock every morning for work.” “Yeah,” he said. “Now unless there‟s a fish down there that‟s going to write me a counseling chit if I don‟t muster, y‟all won‟t find my ass out of bed until at least noon.” “Word up.” Jensen raised his beer bottle. “I can‟t believe you two voluntarily get up that early when you‟re on liberty.” “No shit,” Anderson said. “Don‟t you want to sleep in?” Jensen smirked. “Or cuddle for a few minutes?” I choked on my beer, but Chris didn‟t miss a beat. He laughed and said, “Hey, don‟t be hatin‟ just because we get to stay off the ship in comfortable beds.” “Yeah,” Jensen said. “You get to spend the night with another dude.” I cleared my throat. “Um, you‟re sleeping in a berthing with about three dozen other dudes in much closer quarters.” “Only ‟cause they make me,” he said. “Yeah, well, for those of us who want a break from cramped, uncomfortable racks,” I said. “The price is sleeping in a huge, airconditioned room about ten feet away from another guy.” “Don‟t be jealous.” Chris raised his beer bottle to his lips. “The privilege of being a second class.” “Hear, hear.” I raised my own bottle, and we clinked the necks 70

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together. Before I took a drink, I looked at Jensen. “I‟m sure if you really needed to cuddle someone, Anderson would be totally game.” Anderson threw his arms around Jensen and put his head on Jensen‟s shoulder. Adopting a heavy lisp, he said, “Oh, sweet pea, I‟d snuggle with you any day.” Jensen grimaced and tried to shove him away. “Oh, dude, get off!” Chris and I exchanged glances, and both laughed. Stereotypical impersonations usually made my teeth grind, but at this point, if it took the spotlight off Chris, me, and our hotel room, then they could have at it. After a couple of beers and a meal that was deliciously not prepared on the mess decks, we paid our bill and stepped out into the early evening air. I glared at the setting sun, which was taking its sweet time turning day into night. Did the universe not know that I needed to get laid? Seriously? I needed Chris so bad it hurt, and we had to walk that fine line between calling it an early night so we could go snorkeling, and calling it a suspiciously early night that would raise eyebrows amongst our shipmates. “What is there to do in this town, anyway?” Anderson asked. “Ships pull in here all the time,” Jensen said. “Which means there has to be a place with naked chicks in it somewhere.” I resisted the urge to groan. “Do you guys ever get tired of beer and strip clubs? I mean, there is usually more to a city than what its women look like naked.” “There is more to a city, yes,” Anderson said. “But there are few things more important than where they keep the boobs and beer.” “Right, of course.” I rolled my eyes. “And for those of us 71

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who‟ve been in enough strip clubs, I think there‟s an arcade near the place Chris and I are staying.” “Are there boobs or beer at this arcade?” Anderson asked. “I thought not.” Chris laughed. “Why don‟t you guys go get your nipple fix, and we‟ll go check out the arcade.” Jensen gestured dismissively. “Whatever, fags.” “Dream on, Jensen,” I said, plastering on a smile even though I wanted to punch him. He wrinkled his nose, but at least he stopped digging. “Okay, so, I vote tits and beer.” Chris shrugged. “I‟m pretty much broke until payday, so…arcade for me.” “Suit yourselves.” Anderson shook his head. “You‟ll regret it when we‟re back at sea and you didn‟t get your fix.” Jensen snorted. “Leave ‟em alone, Anderson. Maybe girls just aren‟t their thing.” Chris set his jaw, but I quickly said, “Jensen, man, I‟m serious. I know you want me, but no matter how much you try to tell yourself, I‟m not gay.” He muttered a few profanities under his breath. Then he and Anderson went off in search for a cab while Chris and I walked back toward the hotel. “Man, he just will not leave it alone, will he?” Chris muttered. “Ignore him,” I said. “He‟s one of those assholes who thinks any guy who doesn‟t get a boner standing downwind of a girl is not only gay, but wants him.” “Obviously thinks highly of himself,” Chris said. “I can‟t imagine anyone—male or female—going near him without being paid to.” 72

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I laughed. “No shit.” We exchanged glances, and both of us fell silent. As our hotel came into view up ahead, we both walked faster. I wondered if his heart thundered like mine did. When we stepped into the lobby, the industrial grade airconditioning couldn‟t break through the hot field of anticipation that surrounded my skin. Even with the cold air blasting over my skin as we stood in front of the elevator, I couldn‟t get cool. Not until I was out of my clothes and in bed with Chris. The elevator opened, and the tingle of anticipation turned into a chill of aggravation. “You boys calling it a night already?” Chief Kane asked as he and Chief Ward stepped off the elevator. “It‟s not even twenty hundred yet.” “Got an early morning, Chief.” I smiled and forced myself not to grind my teeth. “Hitting up the beach for some snorkeling.” “Don‟t you ever get tired of that shit?” Kane asked. With all due respect, I get tired of your shit, Chief. “Never gets old, Chief,” I said. “Whatever floats your boats, boys,” Kane said, and he and Ward walked on while Chris and I stepped into the elevator. “Have I mentioned lately how much I hate that guy?” I muttered as the doors closed. “More than once,” Chris said, chuckling. Kane was my arch nemesis on the ship. I‟d proved him wrong on something a few months ago and made him look bad. He‟d had it out for me ever since. But no matter. I was in a hotel with Chris. Even Kane couldn‟t dampen my mood. We stood shoulder to shoulder, not quite touching, and both 73

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stared up at the numbers above the door. It was tempting as all hell to grab hold of each other and make out until we got to our floor, but we still had to walk from the elevator to our room. Too many opportunities to run into shipmates while we were out of breath with incriminating hard-ons. For all we knew, Senior Chiefs Martin and Sanchez were sixtynining in the room next to ours. Lasby and Tollefson might have been across the hall making judicious use of a pair of handcuffs they‟d “reappropriated” from security. Wouldn‟t have surprised me at all if Ward had had Kane‟s dick down his throat before they‟d gotten on the elevator. Still, we couldn‟t take chances. The elevator let us out on our floor, and we half-walked halfsprinted down the hall to our room. I fumbled with the key card, struggled to get it into the reader, but the LED on the lock finally turned a welcoming green, and we threw open the door. I wanted nothing more than to grab Chris and haul him down with me into bed, but as I kicked off my sandals, I grabbed the TV remote off the nightstand. I clicked on the TV and did a quick surf through the channels to find something with a lot of gunfire and explosions. With the volume cranked up enough to convince those around us we were watching a guy-movie, I tossed the remote on one of the beds and turned my attention to the one thing in the world I was interested in: Chris. His shirt was already off. Mine came off, too, and before it even hit the floor, Chris‟s arms were around me. “God, I want you so bad,” he said against my lips. “You don‟t mind skipping all the foreplay, do you?” “Skipping it?” I struggled with his belt buckle. “Guam was foreplay.” 74

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He laughed. “Great minds think alike. Where‟d you put the condoms?” “Backpack.” I let go of his belt, and we separated. He stripped off his shorts and skivvies while I dug into my backpack to find the condoms and lube I‟d hidden beneath my extra clothes. I tossed them to him, and while he tore open the box, I took off the last of my own clothes. Both naked except the condom he wore, we looked at each other, and the raw, primal hunger in his eyes made my heart skip. As he stroked lube onto his cock, I licked my lips. We’re really doing this. “How—” My mouth was suddenly dry. I cleared my throat. “How do you want me?” He nodded toward bed. “On your hands and knees. If you like it that way, I mean.” His eyebrows rose a little. I put a hand on his waist and leaned into kiss him. “I don‟t care, as long as you fuck me.” “Oh, I will,” he breathed. He let me kiss him, but only briefly, before he whispered, “Turn around. I want you too damned much to wait.” Oh, God. Together, we climbed onto the bed. I somehow managed to hold myself up on shaking arms, and Chris knelt behind me. He teased my entrance with his lubricated fingers, sliding one in, then two, and met little resistance. I wanted him so damned bad I was shaking, and I breathed as slowly and deeply as I could to make myself relax. When he took his hand away, I closed my eyes. Finally. The click of the lube bottle echoed across all my senses. Finally, I get to have him. 75

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It clicked again, then landed on the bed beside us with a muffled thud. Chris, please, I…oh, God… As soon as his cock pressed into me, the very first inch sliding inside me, I was his slave. I‟d have done anything for him right then. All he had to do was promise another stroke like that. And like that. And, oh, fuck, like that. Slow, each a fraction of an inch deeper than the last, so gentle and so, so intense. “Oh, Jesus.” He exhaled hard. “I am so not gonna last—” “Then go slow.” I closed my eyes, trying to stay in control myself. “We have all night and plenty of condoms, but…I don‟t want to rush.” “You like it slow?” He withdrew as slowly as humanly possible, then pushed back in at the same speed. “Like that?” “Yes.” I moaned softly, biting my lip. “Just keep…going slow.” “I‟m not hurting you, am I?” “Not at all.” I turned my head enough to bring him into my peripheral vision. “I just like it this way.” He said nothing, just groaned as he pulled out slowly. I‟d always loved it slow, but with him, it was unbelievable. Every stroke registered with no less intensity than a hard, bed-breaking thrust, and every time he was buried all the way inside me, the head of his cock pressed against that deliciously sensitive spot and stayed there, stayed there, stayed just long enough to electrify my senses with the threat of an orgasm before he withdrew and started all over again. Over, and over, and over, until I‟d lost all sense of time and was sure if I so much as rocked back against him, he‟d make me come. He slowed to a stop, but before I could protest, he leaned down and whispered, “I want you on top.” He kissed the side of my neck. 76

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“So I can see you.” I responded with a slight nod, and Chris withdrew. We changed positions, and I grinned down at him. “Hmm, a little déjà vu, isn‟t it?” He returned the grin. “Yeah, except last time we were like this, I didn‟t get to have you on my cock.” I shivered. “Guess we‟d better make up for lost time, then, shouldn‟t we?” “Please,” he breathed. I rose up off him. He dug his teeth into his lip and rested a hand on my hip, steadying his cock with his other hand as I lowered myself onto him. I took him all the way in, then stopped for a couple of seconds before rising again. Then another pause, down again, savoring every inch I‟d been craving for the last few weeks. After a few slow, breathtaking strokes, I asked, “You like it fast or slow?” He reached up and touched my face. “However you want it. I just…oh, God…” His eyes rolled back, and he squirmed beneath me. “I don‟t care, as long as I‟m fucking you.” I leaned forward to rest my weight on my forearms. Kissing him deeply and breathlessly, I moved my hips up and down, rolling them just enough to make him moan into my kiss. His hand slid between us, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around my cock, I forgot how to breathe. Kissing him passionately, I still couldn‟t believe this was real. Chris was here. Nothing between us, no one to stop us, and now he was on his back below me, the taste of his kiss driving me as wild as his cock deep inside me and his hand stroking me. The faster he stroked my cock, the faster I rode him, and we abandoned anything like slow or gentle. Who was calling the shots, 77

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it was impossible to say, but son of a bitch, it was incredible. The explosions and car crashes on the TV behind us kept the bed‟s rhythmic creaking and groaning hidden from the rest of the world, but no amount of pyrotechnics and gunfire could drown out his whispered curses. Then Chris‟s back arched beneath us. “Holy…fuck…” His words came out as a breathless moan. He held the back of my neck and raised his head off the pillow so our foreheads touched. “Like that?” I said, panting against his lips. “It‟s…” He whimpered softly. “I‟m…oh, God, I‟m coming, I‟m coming…” He exhaled against my lips, and his hand tightened around my cock. “Fuck, I‟m…” His back arched, his head fell back onto the pillow, and I couldn‟t resist leaning down to kiss his neck as he fell apart beneath me. Though his hand‟s rhythm had fallen apart, his grip didn‟t relax in the slightest, and I thrust my hips to keep him moving inside me and my cock moving through his tight fist, and I couldn‟t tell his whimpers from my moans anymore, and I finally buried my face against the hot skin of his throat and surrendered to an eye-watering, spine-crumbling orgasm. With one last shudder, I collapsed over him, just barely holding myself up enough so he could still breathe. He kissed my cheek and trailed his fingertips down the shaved back of my head. “Now that,” he whispered between struggling for breath, “was worth the wait.” “Mm-hmm,” was all I could say. I lifted my head and kissed him, and we let ourselves get lost in a long, lazy kiss that was no less toe-curling than anything else we‟d done since we‟d stepped into this room. I couldn‟t say how much time passed, but eventually I raised myself off him, and we both got out of bed to clean up. Then we 78

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pulled back the covers and slipped underneath. He rested his head on my chest and I draped my arm around his shoulders. He found my other hand, and laced our fingers together over my chest. Yeah, this was worth the wait. Worth the wait and then some, as far as I was concerned. I‟d had plenty of lovers, but this…this was unreal. Maybe it was because I knew our time would be strictly rationed, and I had to feel, taste, hear, savor every single second like it could be the last. Whatever the case, this was like nothing I‟d ever experienced. Usually, when I needed someone to the point of distraction, sex was the relief. Destination reached, mission accomplished. With Chris, I swore this felt like another step toward something else. Deeply satisfying, of course, but a piece of something more. “You know, I never did ask,” he said after a while. “What tipped you off?” “Hmm?” “In Guam?” He shifted so he could look up at me. “That I was gay?” I smiled and touched his face. “Besides wishful thinking?” He laughed. “Yes, besides that. Come on, you‟re not stupid enough to corner up another guy in a hotel elevator based on nothing more than wishful thinking. Something tripped your gaydar.” I chuckled. “The lap dance.” His cheeks colored, and he cringed. “God, was it that obvious?” “Oh, probably not to anyone else,” I said. “But I‟d had my suspicions for a while, so…” “Wait, what?” His body tensed and his eyes widened. “You did? Do you think anyone else picked—” 79

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“No, I don‟t think so.” I kissed his forehead and ran my fingertips up and down his arm. “To be honest, I think the only reason I noticed was because I was looking.” “Were you?” “I was.” I rolled on my side, and he faced me. Caressing his cheek with the backs of my fingers, I said, “I hoped you were gay, so I‟ve been looking for any little thing to give you away.” I smiled. “And as luck would have it, you were.” He laughed softly. “Honestly, if it hadn‟t been for your girlfriend, I‟d have been looking for some sign that you were, too. I didn‟t figure you were, but God, I wanted you to be.” “Gee, thanks, Chris,” I said with mock exasperation. “You fucking wished me gay.” “Yeah, right.” He grinned. “And apparently I wished you gay with all the sexual prowess of someone who‟s been gay all along, right?” “Well, in that case, you ought to send a thank-you note to whatever genie you used to wish me gay.” He laughed. “I‟ll get right on that.” He pushed himself up and kissed me lightly. As he settled back on the pillow, I said, “Pity there isn‟t just some way for us to tell. You know, if the gaydar really existed, then we wouldn‟t have to play all these little games.” I expected a joking response, but Chris‟s expression turned serious. “I don‟t know,” he said, almost whispering. “I hate trying to figure it out, but in our case…” He trailed off, watching his fingertips trace the contour of my jaw. I put my hand over his. “In our case…?” He moistened his lips. Then he took a breath like he was about 80

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to speak, but when our eyes met, he released that breath with a quiet laugh and dropped his gaze. “Never mind,” he said as color bloomed in his cheeks. “It‟s stupid.” “Come on, tell me.” I raised his chin with two fingers so he had to look me in the eye. Chris hesitated, but finally sighed. “I guess we…I don‟t know, since I didn‟t think you were gay, there was no pressure, you know? We were just friends. Even if I had a wicked crush on you, it couldn‟t go anywhere, so I let my guard down because I didn‟t think…” He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “I don‟t know what exactly I‟m trying to say. I guess…” He opened his eyes, and the intensity in them made my heart pound. “I guess I let my guard down, I let myself get to know you, and then once we crossed this line, I realized I loved you.” I blinked. “What?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, I told you it was stupid, that—” “No, not at all.” He stared at me. “It isn‟t?” “Not in the least.” I touched his face with the backs of my fingers. “Because I love you, too.” His lips parted. Then he gave a quiet laugh. “And I thought you just wanted to get laid.” “Well, I did,” I said with a one-shouldered shrug. “But this…” I paused, swallowing hard. “This definitely goes above and beyond just getting laid.” “Yeah,” he whispered. “It does.” He came up to kiss me again, and as soon as our lips met, my entire body tingled. If I was his slave the moment his cock had slid into me, now I was just…his. In every possible way. 81

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I wrapped my arms around him. It was much too early to know where something like this could go, but one thing was undeniable: the voice in the back of my head that said, “Hayes, whatever you do, don’t you dare fuck this up.” No way. I’m not fucking this up. Kissing Chris deeply and holding him close, I couldn‟t imagine being anywhere but right here with him. Chris broke the kiss and met my eyes. “Now we‟re really going to have to keep this on the down-low.” I nodded. “I know.” “Are you sure you‟re okay with that?” His eyebrows knitted together. “The whole secrecy thing?” I stroked his short hair. “Yes, I am. As long as I get to be with you, I don‟t care.” He smiled. “You sure?” “Absolutely.” I caressed his face and kissed him gently. “I‟m not going anywhere.” “Good.” His smile turned to a playful grin. “Because you‟re closer to the box of condoms.” I laughed. “Are you suggesting I need to get one out?” He pressed his hips against me, and I sucked in a hiss of breath as his erection brushed my leg. “What do you think?” I reached for the condoms.

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CHAPTER 7 CHRIS 10:12 P.M. Scott and Shelli were in the other room on their laptops, and the sounds of a raid-in-progress on World of Warcraft was like a siren‟s call. I hadn‟t played in a week or two, and jumping into that universe for a few hours was infinitely more appealing than slathering red ink all over this stack of quizzes. Duty called, though. I usually graded on complete autopilot, not paying attention to the name on the top of the page until I had to enter the final score into my grade book. When I flipped to one quiz, though, I didn‟t have to look at the name to know whose it was. I knew that ramrod straight, flawless printing anywhere. 83

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God, this is surreal. I shook my head and went over his answers. The first couple of problems were pretty easy. My afternoon stoners could do them in their sleep, and Justin breezed through them as well. As the problems got harder, his answers were hit or miss. The remnants of erased answers suggested it had taken him numerous tries to reach a solution to all but a few of the questions. His frustration showed in the progressively sharper digits and symbols, and I half-expected to see “fuck this math bullshit” in place of a solution. He toughed it out, though, and he passed, but by the skin of his teeth. I furrowed my brow. I‟d never known Justin to have difficulty with math. He‟d been a strong student in high school and the handful of college classes he‟d taken when we dated, but I never remembered him saying anything about struggling with a particular subject. I chewed my lip as I looked over the quiz. This was fairly simple stuff. The very basic foundations of algebra. If he was struggling already, less than a month into the term, he‟d be in math hell before the quarter was half over. In theory, if he was failing by midterms, when there was little to no chance of salvaging his grade, he‟d probably drop out. That wouldn‟t break my heart, of course, but he was my student. And he didn‟t need a failing grade on his transcript, especially if he was trying to use a degree to help with his advancement in the military. I set his quiz on the stack. All personal issues aside, I couldn‟t let him flounder or sit back and watch him fail. Because he was my student. I couldn‟t do that to my student. Even if he was Justin goddamned Hayes. 84

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* * * “All right, I think I‟ve tortured you all enough for one night.” I closed my notebook on the podium. “See everyone on Wednesday.” Books closed and papers fluttered. Voices murmured. Chairs scraped across the floor. Backpacks zipped, pens rattled, feet shuffled, and in about thirty seconds flat, most of the class was out the door. As Justin walked past, eyes avoiding mine, I stopped him. “Justin.” He turned around. “Yeah?” “You have a minute?” His eyebrows inched upward. “Um, yeah. Sure. What‟s up?” My eyes darted to the side, as if anyone within a ten-foot radius would read between the lines of us even speaking to each other. No one stopped or even looked, though, and once the rest of the class had cleared out, I opened my briefcase. As I pulled out the folder with the quizzes, I said, “I graded your quiz last night.” “Oh.” He looked toward the door through which his classmates had escaped. “And?” “I‟m guessing we‟re already on the same page here.” He laughed humorlessly. “Well, I‟m assuming you‟re not going to tell me that I did so well you‟re advancing me to a two hundredlevel class.” “No,” I said, keeping my tone quiet. “How did you do in prealgebra?” “I passed, but barely.” He dropped his gaze. “Look, you don‟t have to tell me I didn‟t do so hot on the quiz.” He rubbed the back of his neck and avoided my eyes. “Math isn‟t my best subject. Never has been. And, I guess I kind of feel stupid being almost 85

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thirty and having a hell of a time with it, you know?” “Trust me, you‟re nowhere near the only one,” I said. “Math isn‟t everyone‟s strong point. Shit, have you ever seen what happens when I try to write a research paper?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I have.” Our eyes met, and we both quickly cleared our throats and dropped our gazes. The casual comment was only intended to assure him everyone has their weak points, not remind either of us of the times he‟d helped me as I‟d struggled through this or that paper a lifetime ago. Now, I had the academic advantage, and our personal issues aside, he was my student. That, and it occurred to me now that if he failed my class, there was always the chance he‟d repeat it. I had an obligation to each of my students, and the rather selfish motivation of not wanting to have him in my class longer than he absolutely had to be. That smacked of an unbearable level of Purgatory. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked. “I mean, do you need a tutor or anything?” “Much as I‟d rather not admit it,” he said. “Yeah, probably.” I took a breath. “Maybe I can help you.” “Seriously?” Forcing a smile, I said, “It‟s what they pay me to do, you know. When are you usually off work?” He scowled. “Not until about six-thirty most nights. That‟s why I keep showing up a few minutes late.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “And everything here closes at nine, so that wouldn‟t do us any good. Listen, I don‟t have any night classes on Fridays. You could…” I caught myself. “What?” 86

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I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I have to make this absolutely clear. This is strictly business. For class.” “I‟m only asking for help with the material,” he said quietly. “Nothing more.” I met his eyes. “I‟m serious.” He showed his palms. “That‟s all I‟m asking for.” But is it all I‟m asking for? “Why don‟t you…” I closed my eyes, silently berating myself for this. “Why don‟t you come by my office on Friday, and I‟ll help you.” “I have duty this Friday,” he said. “And next Friday won‟t do me much good for next Wednesday‟s test.” I gnawed my lower lip. “Tell you what. Can you come in late tomorrow night? My last class gets out of at nine, but I can stick around here and help you for an hour or so.” He let out a relieved breath. “You really don‟t mind?” Shaking my head, I said, “No, if you need help, I‟ll help you.” He smiled, sending a shiver down my spine and twisting a knot of dread in my stomach. “Thanks,” he said. I gritted my teeth and ignored that knot in my gut. “Don‟t mention it.” * * * Justin showed up at my office door about fifteen minutes later than we‟d agreed, but I didn‟t say anything. As he took a seat in the chair beside my desk, I took a breath, and shivered. It shouldn‟t have surprised me that he still wore that aftershave. I supposed it didn‟t. If anything, I was just surprised that after all this time, and after everything we‟d been through, one breath of that familiar scent could still make my head spin like 87

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that. At least he was in civvies. That damned blue camouflage uniform wouldn‟t have helped me restrain myself at all. Algebra, Reuben. Focus on the algebra. I inhaled again, pretending his aftershave didn‟t give me goose bumps, and flipped my textbook to the chapter the class had been going over yesterday. “Okay, so, what‟s giving you the most trouble?” I asked. “I mean, is there something in particular that‟s tripping you up?” “You mean besides the whole „it‟s fucking algebra‟ thing?” “Yes, besides that.” He shrugged and blew out a breath. “I don‟t…I don‟t know. I‟m fine with basic arithmetic and everything, but throw in some of these variables, and I‟m lost.” “You might be overthinking it a bit and making it harder for yourself,” I said. “You do this stuff all the time at work.” He peered at me. “I do?” “Hell yeah. Okay, here‟s a real-world application.” I folded my hands on top of the open book. “You‟ve got a shop with twelve guys, and the chief says everyone has to attend some bullshit training. You need at least nine guys in the shop at all times, and the training is only offered four times. So how many guys do you send to each session?” “Three,” he said with a half-shrug. “Right. So to put it in algebraic terms…” I wrote an equation on the page: 4x = 12. “Four is the number of training sessions, twelve is the number of guys you have to deal with, and x is the variable. That‟s the number you need to figure out: how many guys you‟re going to send to each session.” I tapped the equation with my pencil. “Divide both sides of the equation by four, and you‟ve 88

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simplified it to your answer: x equals three.” “Okay, but this shit‟s easy,” he said. “I can work it out in my head.” “Of course you can. But even as equations become more complicated, the principles are the same.” I glanced at him. “More variables might come into play, for example. You work with chiefs, so I know you can work this stuff out when you have all kinds of variables coming at you.” He laughed. “Good point. But I didn‟t see anything in the book about „bending space, time, and physics to accommodate some asshole‟s demands.‟” “Sorry,” I said, chuckling. “This stuff can‟t help you with that.” “Well, what good is it, then?” “It‟s algebra, not miracle khaki-be-gone.” Justin laughed. “Damn it. I thought I might get something useful out of this class.” “Well, does that example at least make it easier to understand how it works?” “If anything, I think you just made sending guys to training more complicated.” I shot him a pointed look, and he chuckled. “Yes, it makes a little more sense now.” “Good.” I paused. “So, I take it the chiefs still make life miserable?” “Oh, God.” He rolled his eyes. “I think that‟s all they know how to do. At least I don‟t have to deal with Kane anymore.” “No shit. I‟m surprised no one ever heaved him off the damned flight deck.” “Yeah, I wish,” Justin muttered. “You know that son of a bitch put on senior chief last year?” 89

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I blinked. “You‟re kidding.” He shook his head. “No, I saw him on the list of selectees. Don‟t know how much dick that fuck-up had to suck to get selected, but there he was.” “Wonders never cease.” I clicked my tongue and idly tapped my pencil on the book. “The political bullshit is one thing I definitely do not miss about the military life.” “I hear that.” He paused. “Do you ever miss it? The Navy life, I mean?” I miss you. The thought made my pulse jump. I do not. What the fuck? I quickly cleared my throat and dropped my gaze. “Oh, it had its perks, but I kind of like being a civilian again.” “I believe it,” he said. “I barely even remember what it‟s like to be a civilian.” “How long have you been in now, anyway?” “Eleven years.” He shook his head and whistled. “God, I still can‟t believe it‟s been that long.” “Only nine years left until retirement though.” “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Only.” “You‟re eligible for chief, aren‟t you?” He nodded. “Yeah, I made board during the last cycle. First time I was eligible. Didn‟t get selected though. This time? I‟m on my senior chief‟s shit list, so I‟m not holding my breath.” “Well,” I said. “Good luck.” He met my eyes. “Thanks.” We held each other‟s gazes for a few long seconds. Then I shifted mine back to the book in front of us. “Anyway…” I gestured to the page with my pencil. “Let‟s run through some of the equations I was talking about last night.” 90

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We kept our focus on the math after that. At least, I hoped he believed I was focused completely on the math. I could do this stuff in my sleep, which meant I could explain the principles of exponential numbers and linear equations even while I was wrapped up in who I was explaining those principles to. I hated the fact that I was still so attracted to him. And sitting like this, with our hostility put aside in the name of grades and professionalism, it was easy to remember what we were like before everything fell apart. Back when we were on level ground and our only worry was someone finding out about us. It had even become somewhat of a running joke between us, something we could see in the other‟s eyes in a passing glance and laugh about quietly because no one else on the boat or in our shop or in our world knew. God, I missed that. Not even the secrecy or the inside joke, just us. For the last three years, I‟d barely been able to speak his name without grinding my teeth, but as we were right now, I had to force myself to remember why things had ended in the first place. Maybe it was just a defense mechanism, something to keep me from choking him while we were alone in my office. If that was the case, my defense mechanism was defective. Instead of wanting him gone, I wanted to find a reason for him to stay. Damn it, Reuben. He’s your student now. And he’s an asshole, remember? I forced the thoughts out of my head and focused on explaining algebra to him, not staring at the side of his neck or remembering how he‟d moan when I kissed him there. Or the way he‟d whisper my name when he was getting close. Or— “Chris?” My head snapped up. “Hmm?” 91

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He furrowed his brow. “You okay?” “Yeah, why?” Heat rushed into my cheeks, and when I looked at the page in front of me, I realized I couldn‟t remember what I‟d been explaining to him. I muffled a cough. “Sorry, um, where was I?” He laughed. “You expect me to remember better than you?” “If you‟re paying attention, yes,” I said, laughing in spite of my spinning head. “Probably wouldn‟t hurt to start from the beginning anyway,” he said. “Just to make sure I‟m getting it.” “Good idea.” Yeah, definitely a good idea, because hell if I could remember where I‟d left off. I cleared my throat, ignored his neck and his aftershave and his goddamned presence, and started at the top of the page again. After a while, fatigue started to set in, and the numbers started blurring together on the page. If I was tired of all of this, he must have been, too, so I looked at my watch. 10:14 P.M. Damn it, I‟d sworn we‟d be out of here by ten. Clearing my throat, I sat back. “I guess I should let you go. It‟s quarter after ten.” “Is it?” He looked up at the clock above the door. “Damn. Time flies.” He closed the book and slid it over the top of his notebook. “Um, listen, thanks for the help.” He met my eyes with a degree of shyness I didn‟t think he was capable of. “I…really appreciate it.” “Don‟t mention it,” I whispered. He held my gaze, and I thought he was about to say something neither of us needed to hear, but then he picked up his books. “Guess I should get out of your hair.” “Right. Yeah.” I sat up, frantically trying to think of something 92

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to keep my suddenly nervous hands busy. “If you need any more help with the assignment for Monday, feel free to e-mail me.” “Sure, thanks.” We both stood. He slid his book and notebook into his backpack while I shuffled a few papers into my briefcase just to occupy my hands. He pulled his backpack onto one shoulder, and I showed him to the door. There, we both stopped, facing each other. “Well,” I said. “Like I said, if you need more help, you know where to find me.” “Right.” He smiled, sending a shiver right through me. “I really do appreciate it.” I forced a smile and pretended I didn‟t notice the way his breath caught. “It‟s what I‟m here for.” “Still,” he said softly. “I think you could be forgiven for not wanting to…” He swallowed hard, then gestured toward my desk. “To take the time to help me. Like this. Here.” I gulped. “It‟s my job.” “I know, but…” He trailed off, and for a long, long moment, neither of us touched the unspoken thought. It was there in his eyes and right here on the tip of my tongue, but we couldn‟t. We just couldn‟t go there. Whether or not this really was water under the bridge, it needed to be. I reached for the doorknob, but I didn‟t get a chance to turn it before Justin laid a gentle hand over mine. He didn‟t grab on, didn‟t force my hand away from the door. Everything about his touch simply said “wait.” I looked at him. He took a breath and, now that he had my attention, lifted his 93

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hand off mine. The look in his eyes and the tingle running up and down the length of my spine took me right back to that elevator in Guam. Justin moistened his lips, and my mouth watered. He reached for my face, and I closed my eyes, holding my breath as the warmth of his hand neared my cheek. “Chris…” “Justin, we—” Oh, God, he’s touching me. “We can‟t do this.” “I know.” At the sound of his voice, I opened my eyes. Though it shouldn‟t have surprised me that he‟d drawn a little closer, seeing was believing, and believing made breathing impossible. “I know we shouldn‟t.” His voice shook as his fingers drifted across my cheek and into my hair. “I know, but we…” He exhaled, the rush of breath warming my lips, and in spite of a million reasons not to, I wrapped my arms around him. Surrendering, I pulled him closer, and he kissed me. He caressed my face with one hand and cradled the back of my neck in the other. Against my better judgment, I parted his lips with the tip of my tongue, and held him closer as I deepened the kiss. Oh, fuck, Justin. You have no idea how much I’ve missed the way you kiss. Everything about this kiss reminded me of every reason I ever fell in love with him. This was the kind of slow, sensual kiss that turned long conversations into even longer nights of sex. Sex that said what we had was so, so much more than just sex. And my God, I wanted him. I wanted him in every way I‟d had him back then. But the ache in my chest, that palpable need to get closer to him, was too damned much like the ache I‟d had to live with every 94

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fucking day after we broke up. When I still had to face him for hours on end and keep everything—how much this hurt, how much I loved him—under the surface. When he let me know, over and over and over again, how much he didn‟t give a fuck. As much as I didn‟t want to, I made myself break the kiss. I put a hand on his chest to keep myself from coming back for more, and whispered, “Justin, we can‟t do this.” He retreated slightly, just enough to let me exhale. “I know. We shouldn‟t.” “We can’t.” He looked in my eyes. “Do you want to?” Yes, yes, damn it, I want this. I want you. I forced back the lump that tried to rise in my throat. “No. I don‟t.” “Then what was—” “It was a mistake,” I said, barely whispering. He searched my eyes, and I was sure he could hear my pounding heart and the voice in my head that screamed, “No, it wasn’t a mistake, and yes, I want this, and please, please, don’t leave.” He swallowed hard. “Chris, can we—” “Your math lesson is over,” I said as coldly as I could. His lips thinned. “So, that…what we just did…that was all about—” “It shouldn‟t have happened,” I snapped. “And it won‟t happen again.” He dropped his gaze and chewed his lip. I gritted my teeth, not sure how much longer I could tell him I wanted him to leave before he saw right through me. Finally, he just whispered, “I‟m sorry, then.” And before I could ask which part he was apologizing for, he pulled open the 95

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door and left. His footsteps faded down the deserted hallway. Then they disappeared entirely. Sighing, I shut the door behind him. Alone in the silent emptiness of my office, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the door. It took everything I had not to throw it open, run after him, drag him back in here, and finish what he‟d tried to start. I wanted him so damned bad, and I hated myself for that. After the way things had ended between us, I shouldn‟t have wanted him, not even on the most primal, visceral level. I damn sure didn‟t want to still love him. If I‟d had an ounce of self-respect, I wouldn‟t. But I did. I still loved the Justin for whom I‟d gambled with my military career. I still loved the Justin who‟d gambled with his own career for me. But I loathed the Justin who‟d rethought his priorities, scraped me off the bottom of his boot, and made sure I couldn‟t forget, not even for one damned shift, how much more his career meant to him than I did. And for the life of me, I had no idea which Justin had just walked out of my office.

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CHAPTER 8 CHRIS As our deployment went on, Justin and I kept our relationship on the down-low. Everyone already knew we were friends, so they didn‟t question our usual banter or anything. Nothing changed in our work center. No one knew a thing. Somewhere between South Korea and Japan, it was more or less business as usual. We‟d had a general quarters drill earlier in the day. Those drills happened all the time, running the entire crew through worst-case scenarios, disasters, attacks, fires. All the things a ship could seriously do without, and thus a crew needed to be prepared for. The drill had gone well, but something had happened. At first, I didn‟t think anything was wrong. A shipmate and I 97

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had gone to the aft part of the ship to drop off some equipment to another department, and when I returned to our shop, Justin was at attention, his jaw clenched, with Chief Kane and our LPO screaming in his face. About what, I didn‟t know. They must have been at it for a while, because both men had devolved into that pointless screaming that drill instructors were known for. The recipient and those around him couldn‟t tell what they were shouting about anymore, only that they were still shouting. The ripple of Justin‟s cheek and the cords standing out from his neck, not to mention his fists clenching at his sides, left little to the imagination about his state of mind. His skin and uniform were still drenched from the drill, and with the visible fury boiling beneath his skin, I was surprised the drop of sweat sliding down his temple didn‟t turn to steam. Eventually, the chief quit screaming and left the shop. Our LPO got in a few last words, then dismissed Justin. Justin stormed out, and everyone remaining looked at each other with that wide-eyed “what the fuck just happened?” expression. When Justin didn‟t come back after a good half hour, I went looking for him. I casually told the LPO I was heading to chow with a couple of the other guys, but as soon as we were out in the passageway, I took off to find Justin. It didn‟t take long. He wasn‟t a heavy smoker, but when he was stressed, he sought refuge in a pack of Marlboros. Surprise, surprise, I found him out on the smoke deck. A cigarette smoldered between his fingers, but his gaze was fixed on the massive expanse of ocean. He‟d changed into a clean uniform, and his short hair was still slightly damp, so he must have taken a shower before coming up here. “Hey,” I said. 98

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He turned around, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Hey.” As I approached, he faced the ocean again, taking a drag off his mostly-finished cigarette. “You all right?” I asked. He nodded. “Just needed to relax for a minute.” “I don‟t blame you. What was all that about, anyway?” Justin shook his head. “Kane decided to jump on me about some paperwork bullshit while I was still getting the team squared away after the drill.” “You snapped at him, didn‟t you?” I asked with a cautious laugh. He gave a quiet chuckle and nodded, then took another drag off his cigarette. “I lost my cool for about two seconds, and Kane was having none of it.” He rolled his eyes and blew out the smoke. Approaching footsteps turned both our heads, but only long enough for us to identify the newcomer as Petty Officer Stanton from the shop next to ours. We‟d learned after a while not to jump out of our skin if someone walked in on us. After all, it wasn‟t like they were catching us in the act of anything other than just talking like any other second classes shooting the breeze out on the smoke deck. Once we got over the fear that platonic proximity would give away our secret intimacy, we relaxed. While Stanton lit up his cigarette, Justin and I went back to our conversation. “What‟s Kane‟s problem, anyway?” I asked. “Seems like he‟s had it out for you for a while now.” Justin snorted. “Not my fault he was wrong once and I had the audacity to call him out on it.” “Smart move.” He shrugged. “He made a bad call during a drill. If we‟d gone 99

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his way, and it had been a real casualty, people would have gotten killed.” He smothered his cigarette in the ashtray. “I wasn‟t going to let that slide just because his uniform‟s brown and mine‟s blue.” “That, I can understand,” I said with a nod. “Believe it or not, he was actually cool when he was still a first class.” Justin shook his head and looked out at the water as he pulled out another cigarette. “Son of a bitch thinks now that he has a couple of anchors on his collar, his shit don‟t stink.” “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “That happened with my last LPO. Cool as fuck when he was still in blues. Put him in khakis and staple a couple of anchors to his shirt? Complete asshole.” “I guess power does that to some people.” “No shit.” I paused. “You sure you‟re all right?” “I‟m fine.” He gestured with his unlit cigarette. “Just needed to calm down a bit.” He slipped the cigarette between his lips, cupped his hand around it, and lit it. After he‟d taken a drag and blown a stream of smoke out toward the sea, he said, “Thanks for checking up on me, though.” I smiled. “Any time.” He returned the smile, then lifted his cigarette to his lips as I turned to go. I was halfway back to the hangar deck when he said, “Chris, wait.” “Yeah?” Gesturing with his cigarette, he drew me back over to the railing. “What‟s up?” I asked. Gaze fixed on the water, Justin lowered his voice. “Rumors are going around.” I tapped my fingers on the railing. “I know. I‟ve heard a few.” 100

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“You sure you‟re okay with this?” He turned his head toward me. “I mean, if we get caught…” I threw a glance around the smoke deck, making doubly sure no one was within earshot. “We won‟t get caught.” “Still, people are…wondering.” “Let them wonder,” I said. “Everyone‟s bored stupid, and we‟re two guys who get a room whenever we have overnight liberty.” I shrugged. “It‟s not like we‟re the only ones who do it. People just need something to gossip about.” “True.” He exhaled. “If you‟re concerned about getting caught, and anything that—” “Don‟t worry about it,” I said. “I‟m not.” “Okay,” he said with a nod. “Though, we could have one problem in the not so distant future.” He raised his eyebrows. “Exam results will be out soon,” I said. “If one of us makes E6, things could get tricky.” Justin exhaled hard. “Shit, yeah, that could complicate things.” “Are you still going to re-enlist if you make first class?” I asked. Justin nodded. “I know it would make things complicated with us, but—” “Justin.” It took everything I had not to put a hand on his arm. “You‟d be stupid to get out right after getting a promotion like that. Yeah, it would complicate things, but I won‟t have you throw away a promising career because of me.” “So what do we do, then?” he asked. “I mean, if one of us makes it, then we have that whole fraternization thing.” “We‟ll deal with that when we get there. For now”—I 101

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shrugged—“we have a liberty port coming up in a few days, and we might as well enjoy it without worrying about all this other bullshit.” “That,” he said with a grin, “sounds like a great idea.” “Thought you‟d see things my way.” He laughed. “Great minds think alike, right?” “Yes, exactly.” Chuckling, he snuffed out his cigarette. “I guess we should get back to work.” “Yeah,” I said. “God forbid we set off Kane or Brewer again.” “No kidding.” After he‟d disposed of his cigarette, we started toward the passageway. Justin glanced at me. “Thanks again for checking up on me.” “Any time. Feel better?” “Very much so.” He grinned. “Oh, and do you have a copy of the newest documentation instruction?” I smiled. “I e-mailed it to you last week.” We exchanged knowing grins and continued down the passageway. To anyone else, it was just a benign, work-related discussion. No one else on the boat needed to know that “do you have a copy of the newest documentation instruction?” and “I already e-mailed it to you” were code for “I love you.” * * * Two weeks before the end of our deployment, the ship pulled into Hawaii. One last liberty call before we headed home and, as always, the entire crew was itching to get off the boat. We‟d be home soon, but dry land was dry land. Justin barely spoke on the way to the hotel. He didn‟t even look at me, and when I tried to get a conversation moving, I was lucky to get a single syllable out of him. 102

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“You still want to go out tonight?” I asked when we got to our room. Justin swallowed and took a seat on the edge of one of the beds. “We need to talk.” My stomach flipped. I watched him silently as I sat on the other bed, facing him. Bracing for the worst, I said, “What‟s going on?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Eyes unfocused, he clasped his hands together in front of his lips. After a long, quiet moment, he said, “The advancement results came out today. Brewer showed me the list before I left to go on liberty.” I furrowed my brow. Then my lips parted, and my heart sank deeper in my chest. I knew what was coming before he said it. “I made E-6,” he whispered without a drop of the enthusiasm any sailor should have after being promoted. I wrung my hands. “I‟m guessing I didn‟t.” Without a word, he shook his head. I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. I desperately wanted to be happy for him for making first class. It was a big promotion. The deciding factor for Justin re-enlisting had been whether or not he made first in the next year. Now that he had, he‟d be stupid not to re-up, and that would take him past the ten-year mark. He‟d be over halfway to retirement, with plenty of time to make chief. Maybe even senior chief, with as quickly as he went through promotions. It wouldn‟t surprise me at all if he retired as a master chief. This was nothing short of excellent for his career. With our LPO transferring out in a few weeks, Justin would also be the senior petty officer in the shop. He‟d be the new LPO. It all added up to one very forbidden relationship. Up until now, as long as we kept it all behind closed doors and didn‟t breathe a word of it, we could skate under everyone‟s radars. But 103

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now? The overnight hotel stays, hanging out in bars, being liberty buddies, it all counted as fraternization. That alone could cost us both a chevron from our shoulders if someone—say, one of the chiefs who had it out for Justin—was inclined to blow the whistle on us, but they‟d also ask questions. With those questions came the risk of our relationship coming to light. “Don‟t ask, don‟t tell” was all fine and good until the fucking captain decided to ask point blank about the nature of our friendship. Sure, we weren‟t required to answer with anything more than “we‟re friends,” but it wasn‟t a position either of us wanted to be in. It was risky when it had the potential to get us both booted out with only six to twelve months left on our contracts anyway. Now Justin had a solid, long-term career ahead of him, and that made things…different. For that matter, no one had any reason to question two guys of the same rank hanging out. If they had any suspicions, DADT prevented them from asking as much as it prevented us from saying anything. The potential for fraternization opened the door for questions. It gave people a reason to ask, and could corner us into telling. Justin got up and moved across the narrow divide to sit beside me. “We knew this could happen.” He brushed the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “One of us was bound to get promoted eventually.” “I know.” I forced a smile. “And you‟ve earned it. Congrats.” His smile was no less forced. “Thanks. But…what about us?” I swallowed. “I don‟t know.” “We can still make this work,” he said. “We‟re just going to have to be really, really careful.” I put my hand over his against my face. “I can‟t ask you to do 104

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that, Justin. It was one thing when we just had to hold out until our enlistments were up, but now…” I swallowed. “We agreed, if one of us was staying in, we can‟t take the chance.” I touched his face. “I can‟t be the reason something happens to your career. You‟ve worked too hard for this.” “I don‟t want to lose you, though,” he said. I didn‟t know what to say. It was easy to say we‟d find a way to work around it, and that we could stay under the radar, but the truth was, we couldn‟t. Not without increasing the risk to our careers. Finally, I kissed him gently and whispered, “We still have tonight.” “Yeah, we do.” He brushed his lower lip across mine. “Maybe we should use it.” I said nothing. I just wrapped my arms around him, pressed my lips to his, and drew him down onto the bed with me. Every time we‟d had sex had been spectacular, but tonight was different. Fingers dug into skin, bodies pressed together; it was like we just couldn‟t get close enough to each other. Even when I was deep inside him with his arms wrapped around me, I wanted more. Our bodies moved together with perfect, practiced fluidity, reminding me with every stroke and thrust and caress how much we‟d evolved from the fledgling lovers we‟d been in the beginning. This wasn‟t casual sex. It wasn‟t something superficial to pass the time and scratch an itch. We‟d known that from the first night we‟d been together, but tonight wouldn‟t let me forget it. It took two orgasms apiece before fatigue finally won, and we settled into bed together. I had no doubt we‟d be at it again soon, but for now, we needed to rest and recharge. We faced each other on our sides. Justin draped his arm over 105

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my waist, and we lazily, gently kissed for some long, undefined period of time. Then he drew back and looked at me. “I love you, Chris.” “I love you, too,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “This is such crap, you know?” He ran his fingers up and down my arm. “Everyone knows there are plenty of us in the military, but the only way we can sustain a career is to keep it quiet. Which means I‟m either going to have to be alone or force you to stay in the closet with me. For…ten years? More than that?” He kissed my forehead and pulled me a little closer. “Just doesn‟t seem fair to do that to you. Doesn‟t seem fair to do it to anyone, you know?” I laughed bitterly. “Since when is anything fair in the military?” “Good point.” Then he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow and facing me. “Listen, your enlistment‟s up, when?” “Ten months.” “There‟s nothing in the regs that says we can‟t hang out once you‟re a civilian,” he said. “Maybe we should rein this back now, but when you get out…” He raised his eyebrows. “We‟d still have to keep it a secret,” I said. He nodded. “I know. But what the guys on this ship don‟t know…” He gestured dismissively. “I don‟t care. I mean, would you be okay with it?” I moistened my lips and broke eye contact. I wasn‟t so sure about being someone‟s secret boyfriend. But given the choice between being Justin‟s boyfriend, secret or not, and not being with him? “There‟s plenty of time,” he said softly. “I mean, we‟ll have to stop what we‟re doing for now, and then just play it by ear until you‟re a civilian.” 106

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I nodded in spite of the lump in my throat. “Damn, I‟m gonna miss this.” “It‟s only for a few months.” He smiled. “I‟m not going anywhere.” I laughed softly. “That‟s just going to make it that much more difficult, having you right there and knowing I can‟t touch you.” “Well, if it‟s any consolation,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck, “I‟ll be going crazy thinking about you, too. And you better believe…” His lips brushed beneath my jaw. “I‟ll be thinking of you whenever I‟m alone.” I shivered. “I‟ll be thinking of you exactly the same way.” He looked at me and grinned. “I can‟t decide if that‟ll make it easier, or if it‟ll just be that much harder to keep my hands off you.” “Not like we have much choice.” His smile faded. “No, I guess we don‟t.” He ran his fingers up the back of my neck. “I just don‟t want to see this die.” “Neither do I.” I ran the pad of my thumb along his jaw. “We have time. At the very least, why don‟t we enjoy tonight?” Justin smiled, that beautiful smile that could light up any room, and leaned in to kiss me. We enjoyed that night and most of the morning after. Walking up the ramp to the quarterdeck the next day, I forced back the lump in my throat and told myself we only had to play detached coworkers for a few months. Then maybe, just maybe, we could do this. The secrecy would suck, but I loved him. In the morning light, with my body still aching from a night of passionate sex, the decision was a no-brainer. All we had to do was make it through a few months, then we could be together again. 107

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A week later, halfway between Hawaii and home, the sailors who‟d received promotions were frocked—given the insignia of their new ranks with all the usual pomp and circumstance of a military ceremony. Justin became assistant LPO in our shop, but the LPO pretty much stood aside and let him take over. From the first day Justin came to work with the third chevron on his arm, he was different. His sense of humor evaporated, at least whenever I was around. During downtime, he‟d shoot the breeze with any of the guys in the shop, even seamen and airmen, but he kept his distance from me. Week by week, that distance widened, and mile by mile, it got colder. Once his new attitude had chipped away at our ability to even be cordial to each other during downtime, the ice spread into our jobs. After a newly-frocked and far too cocky E-4 disobeyed an order I‟d given him, Justin settled the dispute in favor of the other jackass. When that same jackass mouthed off to me, I started giving him a verbal counseling, but then Justin separated us and ordered me to cool it. After a month and a half of that shit, I couldn‟t take it anymore. I held my tongue until I finally caught him out on the smoke deck and we could talk alone. “Got a minute?” I‟d asked through grinding teeth when I found him out there. “Yeah, sure.” He‟d blown out a stream of smoke and met my eyes. “What‟s up?” “I‟m just curious,” I growled. “But have you noticed I have a crow and two chevrons on my shoulder?” I pointed emphatically at the black eagle patch and the twin chevrons that signified my rank as an E-5. Justin narrowed his eyes. “I‟m well aware of your rank.” 108

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“Is that right?” I gestured back toward the hangar and, by proxy, our shop. “Then why the fuck do I have seamen and airmen walking all over me with your fucking blessing?” He stepped toward me, lip curling into a snarl. “Listen, you want to keep your crow and your chevrons, you might want to step off.” I blinked, nearly drawing back out of surprise, but not even a hint of intimidation. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “What the fuck is wrong with me?” He snorted. “I‟m not the one stepping out of line am—” Footsteps turned both our heads, and I ground my teeth at the sight of a chief strolling out onto the smoke deck. Justin stiffened and turned to me. In a low growl, he said, “This conversation is over.” “Is it, now?” His eyes flicked toward the chief, then back to me. “Yes. Yes, it is.” “Fine.” Dropping my voice as low as I could and injecting as much venom as possible, I said, “With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself.” I stormed back into the hangar. My fury found its mark, and Justin made a half-assed effort to run the shop with a more even hand, but it was too late. The damage was done and the precedent had been set. The junior sailors knew they could walk all over me, and they took full advantage of it. Before long, Justin fell back into that habit, and I became the undisputed shop doormat. Shit jobs suddenly became my jobs. In any disagreement, I was either wrong or, if I was right, overreacting. I was one of two E-5s in the shop, but may as well have been an E-3. 109

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The worst part? The day a chief decided it was my job to check with everyone in the shop, one by one, to make sure they had copies of the newest standard operating procedure for documentation. The day I had to look Justin in the eye and ask, “Do you have the latest documentation instruction?” The day he, without meeting my eyes or missing a beat, held up his documentation binder, and didn‟t say a word. I‟d considered taking it up with the chain of command, but with less than six months left before my enlistment was up, what was the point? So I just stopped giving a shit. I did my job, then devoted all my off time to finishing the last few credits on my degree. I‟d been fine with ending our relationship, if only temporarily, but by the time we reached that magic date when I‟d be out of the Navy and we could consider rekindling it in secret, I didn‟t know him anymore. On my last day, I didn‟t say anything to Justin. I took my honorable discharge, walked off the ship, and never looked back.

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CHAPTER 9 CHRIS 11:58 P.M. God, my seven-thirty class was going to be hell tomorrow. On my front porch, I numbly pulled my key ring out of my pocket. As I searched for the right key, they jingled and, in seconds, the world on the other side of the door was alive with the thunder of paws. A weak smile tried to form on my lips, especially as Raven barked and pawed at the door while I turned the key in the deadbolt. She got far enough out of the way for me to get the door open, but as soon as I was in the house, she was a wiggling, whimpering mess. I knelt, and she jumped into my arms. The more she wagged 111

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her tail and tried to lick my face, the more I realized even she couldn‟t lift my spirits tonight. Sighing, I rested my head against her neck and idly scratched her ears. Her enthusiastic greeting just couldn‟t get more than a half-hearted smile out of me. “Come on, baby.” I patted her side before I stood. “Daddy needs a drink.” I started for the kitchen, and she trotted beside me, nails clattering and tags jingling. As Raven calmed down enough for me to hear something other than her panting and whimpering, the sounds of clicking keys and muttered curses came from the other room. “…motherfucker, where are you? I‟m being attacked from every fucking direction…” I laughed softly to myself. Scott must have been playing World of Warcraft. Good. At least that meant he‟d be tied up and not come wandering in here to make conversation. I‟d had enough of that tonight to last me a while. I popped open a beer, then dragged myself to the kitchen table and dropped into a chair. After one swallow that I barely tasted, I pushed the can away, rested my elbow on the table, and rubbed my forehead. Raven rested her head on my leg and whined softly. I reached down with my free hand and petted her. This quarter was going to kill me. Hell, tonight was probably going to kill me. I should have been in bed. Dead asleep, dead to the world. In fact, I should have been home forty-five minutes ago, but I‟d hung around the office for a while, thinking about Justin. Thinking about and avoiding Justin. I‟d been afraid he‟d still be in the parking lot. Or waiting outside the building to try one more 112

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time to see if I was willing to talk. And I wasn‟t sure how many times I could push him away before I gave in. Raven nudged my hand, reminding me I‟d stopped petting her at some point. “Sorry,” I murmured, and tousled her floppy ears. “You want to go outside before bed?” She raised her head so suddenly, she almost hit it on the underside of the table. Her tail swished back and forth, and as soon as I shifted my weight just enough to imply I was standing up, she bolted for the back door. Numbly, I followed her to the door and let her out. She took off into the backyard, slipping past the reach of the porch light and disappearing into the shadows. I folded my arms on the railing and took a long breath of the evening air. When Raven came back and dropped a stick at my feet, I didn‟t have nearly the energy required to pick it up and throw it. But she wagged her tail expectantly, and looked at me with those “please, Daddy?” eyes, so I made myself pick up the stick. She brought the stick back each time, and on the third retrieval, dropped it at the bottom of the steps. Then she waited for me to dry her feet and let her in, and as soon as the door was open, she thundered up to the bedroom. As always, she waited for me on the bed, wagging her tail and panting. And as always, while I brushed my teeth and changed clothes, she hopped down and curled up in her own bed. This time, though, she waited until the light was off and I was under the covers. Then she jumped back up. With a grunt, she dropped beside me and rested her head on my arm. I opened my mouth to tell her to get down, but instead, I just reached over and petted her. I couldn‟t make myself push anyone 113

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else away tonight, so I let her stay. Staring up at the ceiling and absently scratching my dog‟s ears, I wondered what Justin had expected to happen tonight. Did he really think I could just let everything go? That I could let myself get swept away, if only for one night? Did he see right through me and know that was exactly what I‟d wanted to do? No, I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to. Fuck, I didn‟t know what I wanted. Or what he wanted. Just a one-night stand? Forgiveness? Reconciliation? Hell if I knew. All I knew tonight was that I still craved Justin in ways I shouldn‟t, I still loved him as much as I hated him, and my early classes tomorrow were going to suck. * * * I was right. My seven-thirty class was hell. So was my ten o‟clock, my one-thirty, and my four o‟clock. But they had nothing on my seven o‟clock. Of course, Justin wore his uniform again. How ironic that camouflage stood out to me like a glowing red beacon, summoning my attention right to him every time I faced the class. I wondered if anyone noticed that I spent an inordinate amount of time facing the board during this lecture, glancing over my shoulder rather than doing an about face. And when my lecture wound to a close, no one in the room was happier about it than I was. “Any questions on either chapter?” I silently begged every hand to stay down. When no hands went up, I closed my book. “I‟ll see everyone on Monday.” Everyone got up and made a quick exit…except one. I hadn‟t even packed up my own book and notes when Justin 114

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approached the podium. As soon as everyone else was gone and the door closed behind the last student, he looked at me. “Chris, we need to talk.” I gritted my teeth. “I don‟t see what there is to discuss. You‟re my student. That‟s the end of it.” “No, it‟s not,” he said, his tone as gentle as it was firm. “It‟s not the end of it, and you know it.” “Even if it isn‟t,” I said through my teeth, “it should be.” “A lot of things should be, but they aren‟t.” He chewed his lip and looked at me through his lashes. “Can we just discuss this and be done with it? Because I know it‟s bugging you as much as it is me.” My defense mechanism of biting sarcasm tried to kick in, but the fact was, he was right. “Fine,” I said coldly. “Let‟s go back to my office, and we can talk there. But after tonight? That‟s it. The subject is dropped, you‟re my student, and our past doesn‟t exist.” He swallowed. “Understood.” The two-hundred foot walk from the classroom to my office may as well have been two hundred miles. Only a handful of students and colleagues were still around, and none of them batted an eye at us. Still, I couldn‟t help thinking we were painfully conspicuous. Like someone would see the teacher and the sailor and somehow put two and two together. No one said a word, though. I keyed us into my office and gestured for him to go in ahead of me. Once we were in the office, I closed the door and leaned against it. “First things first, there‟s one thing I need to know.” “Shoot.” “Why are you in my class?” Justin stared at the floor and rested his hip against my desk. 115

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“I…I‟ve been taking online classes for the last year or so. When I started looking into math classes, I saw your name on the list of instructors, and…” He trailed off, gesturing sharply as his cheeks turned pink. “Okay, but why?” I asked. “Why not just contact me?” “I‟ve tried.” “Have you?” “Yeah.” Shifting his weight, he raised his eyes to meet mine. “And I‟ve deleted every e-mail, and hung up the phone before I ever pressed „send.‟ I guess I thought if I was in your class, then I‟d have to face you.” “I don‟t suppose it occurred to you that I‟d also have to face you,” I said, bitterness creeping into my tone. “It did, but…” He exhaled. “Okay, I should have thought about that more. I was just trying to find a way to get up the nerve to see you. And say something.” “Well, here I am.” I put my arms out in a “take your best shot” position. “What did you come here to say?” “That I‟m sorry,” he said softly. “For the way things ended. For the way I treated you.” My throat ached with emotion. I hadn‟t realized just how much I‟d needed to hear that until he said it, and the words threw me off balance. Still, it didn‟t change anything. What happened had still happened. And we still were who we were now. I cleared my throat. “It isn‟t just what happened, Justin. You…changed. One minute, we were…” I swallowed. “We were us I guess. Then you got another stripe on your arm, and—” “What was I supposed to do?” he asked. “We couldn‟t date anymore. Even hanging out together would have been 116

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fraternization.” “Then why did things change in the shop?” I shot back. “We had no trouble working together before. Work was at work, personal was personal.” “I was the LPO.” He threw up his hands. “Was I supposed to pretend we were still on level ground?” “No, not at all,” I snapped. “And I respected your authority, but you treated me like shit.” The anger came fast and hard now, and after keeping this to myself for the last few years, I couldn‟t stop it. “I respected you, Justin. I‟d have done everything I could to back you and help you keep things running smoothly in the shop, regardless of whether or not we were still together. Or if we‟d never been together to begin with. It wasn‟t your rank that changed, it was you. One minute, we‟re equals, and the next, you‟re my LPO, but you‟re suddenly treating me like a goddamned seaman instead of a second class. You may have been my boss, and maybe I couldn‟t be your boyfriend anymore, but there was never any reason for you to treat me like I lost my crow the day you gained a chevron.” Justin blinked. “Chris…” I ran a hand through my hair. “Do you know how much that hurt? I went from being your lover and your friend to slime under your boot.” “No, it was never like that,” he whispered. I clenched my jaw. “Wasn‟t it?” “No. No, it never was.” He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. “I was just…I was…” He exhaled sharply and rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “I didn‟t want anyone catching on that there had ever been anything between us.” I laughed bitterly. “You did a fine job of that.” 117

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“Not really, no,” he said. “There were rumors, Chris. The chiefs, I told you, they all had us pegged for a couple. And I was scared to death they‟d find out for sure. I‟m sorry for the way I treated you. I just, I was afraid every time I looked at you that someone would catch on.” “Except it was over,” I whispered. “There was nothing to catch on to.” “Yeah. There was. Just because we‟d split didn‟t mean that nothing had ever existed between us.” He dropped his gaze and moistened his lips. “And in all the time that‟s passed since we broke up and since you left the ship, I have never stopped loving you.” I forced back the lump that tried to rise in my throat. “But why didn‟t you just tell me there were rumors? Why didn‟t you say anything to me?” I narrowed my eyes. “Why did you threaten my crow and chevrons when I called you out?” Justin flinched. “I said it without thinking, and I was afraid someone would overhear if I tried to explain what I meant. The thing is, mine were on the line, too. Chief Kane had it out for me as a second class, and when I put on first, he was out for blood. As far as he was concerned, I‟d make chief over his dead body.” “What does that have to do with me?” He sighed. “Because I was short-sighted and stupid, and I put my career ahead of how I treated you. The thing is, Kane and some of the other higher-ups were looking for a reason to fuck me over. What I said to you, it was a knee-jerk reaction, and I couldn‟t risk someone hearing me explain to you that I was afraid one of them would catch on to us, use that to take me down, and take you down with me.” He took a breath. “Look, I know I hurt you. I treated you like shit, I didn‟t…I didn‟t do a damned thing right, and I‟m sorry. 118

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That‟s all I can say, Chris. I‟m sorry.” I watched him silently. I didn‟t know what there was to say. Justin fidgeted, eyes darting around my office. “We really need to have this conversation somewhere else.” “Why?” “Because this is your turf. You‟re my instructor here.” He fidgeted again. “We can‟t sort this out when we‟re not on level ground.” I laughed bitterly. “Level ground? We can‟t be on level ground now, Justin. Not while you‟re enrolled here.” “And for the sake of one conversation, we can‟t drop that?” he asked. “We can‟t just go someplace where we can ignore the fact that we were ever supervisor and subordinate, and that we‟re student and teacher now?” “It was your choice for us to be in this position,” I snapped. “You chose to put us in this position now, and you chose to make sure I never forgot I was your goddamned subordinate.” “Do I need to apologize again?” he asked. “Maybe grovel a little? I know I put us both in a bad position this time, and fucked up royally on the ship. I‟m trying to make amends for that.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you even capable of considering forgiveness after all this time?” “After you‟ve hurt me more than any other man ever has, and made not one but two of my jobs into a living hell for your own gain? I‟m not sure you‟re in any position to question whether or not I‟m ready to forgive anything.” My voice shook, and it wasn‟t the anger I tried to inject into it. I swallowed hard. “This is killing me, Justin. You don‟t even know.” “Don‟t I?” “No, I don‟t think you do.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And 119

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if you had just contacted me and talked to me, maybe we could have settled this without putting my job on the line, or putting us in the mother of all awkward positions.” “Would you have talked to me?” “I…I don‟t know. Maybe. But cornering me into this didn‟t help your case any.” “I know, and I‟m sorry. I guess it was kind of an impulsive thing. I didn‟t set out to put you in such a bad spot, and what happened on the ship… God, I have regretted that like you wouldn‟t believe ever since the day you walked off the ship.” I glared at him. “It took you that long to figure it out?” Justin exhaled hard. “Do I need to repeat the part where I fucked up? Because I did. I was so caught up in keeping up appearances, I didn‟t realize how badly I‟d done you wrong until that day you went off on me in the smoke pit. And by then…” He gestured sharply. “By then, you weren‟t that far from your separation date, and when you left…” He released a long breath. “I don‟t know what else I can say except I‟m sorry.” “Which you could have said without cornering me like this,” I said. “I have to come to class every goddamned night, scared to death to even look at you—who treated me like shit to preserve your own career—because you‟ve put me in very delicate position with my career. To the point I have to be careful and walk on eggshells every time I so much as look at you, because I‟m afraid every fucking person in that room will take one look at us and realize I‟m still in love with you.” My teeth snapped together when I realized the words had actually come out. Justin‟s lips parted and his eyes widened. I raked a hand through my hair and avoided his eyes. Forcing my emotions back, I said, “And then I‟d have to admit it to them. 120

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And you. And myself.” He said nothing, but released a long breath. I swallowed. “And I don‟t know how the hell I‟d be able to hold myself back.” “Then don‟t.” I faced him. “What?” He stepped toward me. “Don‟t hold back.” “Justin,” I whispered putting my hands up. “I have to.” “There‟s no one here but us.” “And we have to leave this office sooner or later.” “I know.” He held my gaze. “Let me ask you this.” I raised my eyebrows. He shifted his weight. “Are you holding back because I hurt you? Or because of our careers?” “Does it matter?” I whispered. “The end result is the same.” “It doesn‟t have to be.” “Yes, it does,” I said. “There are…too many reasons why we can‟t.” “We can‟t, and we probably shouldn‟t,” he said with a subtle nod. “But we couldn‟t do it before, and we shouldn‟t have done it then either.” “And look where it got us.” “Only because I was a complete idiot and tried to play by the rules at your expense.” He took another tentative step toward me, watching me as if he didn‟t know if I‟d back away or stand my ground. When I didn‟t move, he said, “I screwed up, Chris. I let you go. In fact, I pushed you away. That was…” He paused, shaking his head. “That was the biggest mistake I‟ve ever made. The day you left the ship? When you got out? I have never felt so…” His eyes lost focus and his brow furrowed, like he was 121

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searching for the right word. After a moment, he looked at me. “I have never felt so lost.” I winced and dropped my gaze, struggling to keep my emotions under control. Justin came closer. “I‟m not claiming for a second that I handled this the right way,” he said, his voice gentle. “I screwed up in more ways than one. It just, ever since I put on E-6,” he said. “And even now, with me being your student, we haven‟t been on level ground. Before that, when we were equals, we were…” I met his eyes. “We were, what?” Justin took a breath. “We were perfect.” I couldn‟t argue with that. Swallowing hard, I nodded. “We were.” He took another step, and the door kept me from drawing away. “Chris, just tell me if you really want this or not. Because right now, that‟s the only thing I care about.” I do. God, yes, I do. “Justin, we can‟t.” “That wasn‟t my question.” He leaned in closer, and his aftershave made my head light. “I asked if you want this, or if you don‟t.” With every fiber of my being, I wanted this, but nothing changed the fact that we couldn‟t. I put a hand on his chest and forced myself to look him in the eye. “Justin. We can’t. That‟s…” I swallowed hard again. “That‟s all that matters.” “Is it?” No. Not even close. Barely whispering, I said, “Yes.” He winced. I sidestepped him, putting some distance between us and also clearing his path to the door. “I think we‟ve discussed everything 122

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we need to.” He stared at me, hurt and disbelief written all over his wide eyes and parted lips. “I…I need to get some work done.” I nodded toward the door, and quickly shifted my gaze away from him. “Unless there‟s anything else we need to discuss?” Inwardly, I cringed, cursing myself for leaving the door open for us to continue this conversation. But Justin said nothing. He ignored the door I‟d left open, and instead reached for my office door. A moment later, it shut behind him, and I was alone. The silence in my office was heavy on my shoulders. With every second that passed, my heart beat a little faster and my hands shook a little more. I‟d let him go. He‟d come to apologize, which was all I‟d ever wanted him to do, and I‟d thrown him out. Because of my job. I‟d taken my career over him, even though every inch of me screamed at me to say fuck my career and run after Justin, Justin, Justin. This wasn‟t right. Regardless of the bullshit that was out of both of our hands, this wasn‟t how things were supposed to be. This was wrong. All wrong. I grabbed my keys, locked my office door behind me, and went after Justin.

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CHAPTER 10 JUSTIN On the bottom floor of Chris‟s office building, I stepped off the elevator and stopped. As the doors closed behind me, I looked back. So this was it? “But after tonight?” he‟d said. “That’s it. The subject is dropped, you’re my student, and our past doesn’t exist.” I‟d apologized. He‟d admitted he still loved me. And yet, here I was. Numb. Alone. Equally convinced he was truly lost to me as I was certain this was not how things were supposed to end. Wringing my hands, I paced back and forth in front of the elevator. Did I dare give it one more try? Of course it was worth it, but I didn‟t want to harass him. I just…couldn‟t accept that this 124

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was how we were supposed to go our separate ways. Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit the button for the elevator, but a second before I did, the gears started grinding and whirring. I cursed. The stairs were on the other side of the building, and I needed to just get on this elevator and get to his floor before I lost my nerve. Fidgeting, I waited, listening to the machinery and struggling to persuade myself to go through with this. He‟d all but thrown me out. He didn‟t want to see me. Hell, even the damned elevator had left without me, as if to let me know, “Dude, no. Just, no.” But I stood my ground and waited. My heart pounded as the gears and machinery brought the elevator back down to this floor. The doors opened, and I took a step, but then stopped. Chris looked back at me, eyes wide and lips apart like he was as surprised to see me as I was him. Across the narrow void, we stared at each other, the building completely silent except for my thundering heart. So much to say. Where did I start? I couldn‟t even remember what I wanted to say, because looking at him like this, I couldn‟t remember how to speak. Or how he‟d react if I said whatever it was I‟d been on my way up to say. God, Chris, I can’t even tell you how much I love you. The doors started to close. Chris‟s hand smacked against one side, and the doors obediently pulled open again. I thought he‟d step out into the hall with me, but instead, he reached out with his other hand, grabbed the front of my uniform, and dragged me into the elevator, right back into the elevator in the hotel in Guam, and kissed me. I couldn‟t remember a time when we‟d kissed this passionately, this desperately. I pushed him up against the wall, and he grabbed 125

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handfuls of my uniform like he thought I might actually pull away. The doors closed behind us, and now that we had some semblance of privacy, it was all I could do not to tear off his shirt and tie right here, right now. Chris‟s hands slid down my sides and onto my hips, and when he pulled me against him, his hard-on made me whimper into his kiss. “I‟m sorry,” he whispered between kisses. “You were right. This is all that matters.” “It‟s not all that matters, but…” I paused for a long, breathless kiss. “It‟s all that matters tonight, at least.” “Definitely.” Chris met my eyes. He trailed trembling fingers along the shaved sides of my head. “This might be a mistake, and I could get in so much trouble, but…” He closed his eyes, took a breath, then met my eyes again. “Do you want to take this back to my place?” We couldn‟t get to his place fast enough. Thank God he only lived a few minutes from campus, or we might have had to pull over, climb into my backseat, and be done with it. Especially since he‟d walked to work, which meant riding in the same vehicle. About the time I was ready to suggest doing just that, he gestured to the left and said, “This is the place.” I pulled up to the curb, and neither of us said a word as we got out of the car and walked—quickly, just like we had on our way to the hotel back in Perth—up to the front door. Chris‟s hands shook so bad his keys jingled loud enough to echo off the sides of the porch. On the other side of the door, the distinctive sound of a large, or at least very enthusiastic, dog broke the silence in the house. Chris opened the door, and a black lab bounded into the room, 126

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sliding on the hard floor. It was just about to jump on me before Chris snapped his fingers. “Raven, no.” The dog dropped onto its haunches and whined, swishing its tail back and forth as it fidgeted. “She‟s still a puppy,” Chris said. “Well-behaved, but…a puppy.” “It‟s okay,” I said, laughing as she about lost her mind when I reached down to pet her. “Friendly, isn‟t she?” “Very.” He slipped his hand into mine. “And she‟ll keep us down here all night if we let her.” “Vile temptress,” I said with mock disgust. We both laughed, and he led me by the hand up the stairs. The dog, of course, was hot on our heels, and she whined when he didn‟t let her join us in the bedroom. “She sleeps in here,” he said, carefully closing the door so he wouldn‟t catch her paw. “Hopefully she‟ll forgive me this one time.” “I‟m sure she will.” I put my arms around his waist and kissed the side of his neck. “Unless you‟d rather bring her in here and—” “Oh, fuck you.” He laughed and turned around. Some smartass comment rested on the tip of his tongue, but then our eyes met. His flicked to my lips, back to my eyes, to my lips again. “Better yet…” I touched his face. “Why don‟t you fuck me?” “I‟d love to,” he growled, and drew me into a deep kiss. I hooked a finger under his tie and pulled the knot down. Once it came loose, I didn‟t even bother taking it off. I went straight for the buttons of his shirt, and he reached for my belt. As we moved toward the bed, we stripped away all the layers of the jobs that had, in their own ways, made us more complicated than we needed to 127

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be. Piece by piece, we dropped business attire and blue camouflage to the floor until we‟d simplified us to what we were: two men who needed each other. My dog tags landed on the nightstand with a quiet jingle, then dropped to the floor, but neither of us bothered picking them up. Tangled up in a kiss and each other, we slid into bed together. Chris pulled the covers up over us. The room wasn‟t cold by any means, but I wasn‟t opposed to cocooning ourselves in a blanket while he held me like this. I rolled him onto his back. He sucked in a hiss of breath as my cock pressed against his, and I shivered when he pulled me down to kiss him. I hadn‟t let anyone touch me in I couldn‟t remember how long, and even when I‟d had other lovers, no one had ever set my senses on fire like Chris so effortlessly did. I combed my fingers through his hair. It was cool and soft, so much different from the rigidly short regulation cut he‟d had years ago. He looked great either way, but I loved the way his longer hair felt between my fingers. I loved the way he felt against me. “I missed this,” he murmured. “Me, too.” I bent to kiss his neck. “I missed you.” Chris sucked in a breath, though I couldn‟t tell if it was from the words or from my lips on his skin. Then he whispered, “I missed you, too.” I pushed myself up and looked in his eyes. Just like the moment we‟d faced each other in the elevator, there were a million things I needed to say, but I couldn‟t remember any of them. Except one, that is. “Chris, I am so, so sorry,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “For everything.” He ran his hands up my sides. “Are you sorry for this?” 128

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I moistened my lips. “Not even a little.” “Neither am I.” He curved his hand on the back of my neck and drew me down to kiss him again. I sank against him, and he wrapped his arms around me. God in heaven, I wanted him so damned bad, and I couldn‟t believe this was real. That tonight, here, now, I‟d have him inside me again. Assuming… Oh, fuck. I broke the kiss. “Tell me you have condoms.” He grinned. “You think we‟d have made it all the way back here if I didn‟t have plenty of condoms waiting for us?” Relief washed over me. “Thank God.” “Why, Justin”—he traced my lower lip with his thumb—“are you suggesting you want something?” “I am.” I kissed him lightly, breaking away just enough to murmur, “I want you.” He shivered and put a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me up. “Get on your back, then.” He didn‟t have to tell me twice. I rolled onto my back, and he sat up to reach for the nightstand drawer. “Might want to put a pillow under your hips,” he said over his shoulder. Christ, I damn near came. We‟d only had sex this way a few times, and it always—always—drove me out of my mind. With a condom on him and a pillow under me, Chris sat up and guided his cock to me. Cool lube pressed against my skin, and I whimpered softly. He grinned. “I suppose it would be cruel of me to tease you, wouldn‟t it?” I groaned. “Yes, it would.” 129

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“It might be fun, though.” “Chris, goddammit, if you—ooh, my God…” My eyes rolled back, and I couldn‟t even draw a breath as his cock slowly, slowly, so slowly slid into me. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, withdrawing at the same speed. “Oh, God…” Stroke by stroke, he slipped deeper inside me, and stroke by stroke, I came unglued. Chris clasped our hands together and pinned mine to the pillow. As he came down to kiss me, he moved his hips slowly, just the way I‟d always loved it. No, slower. Every single stroke was deliciously slow and intense, like each one had been a lifetime in the making and needed its own eternity to happen. Still covering my mouth with his, Chris pulled all the way out. I wanted to protest, but then he broke the kiss and descended on my neck. Then my chest. Then farther. “Oh, God…” I whispered, my abs quivering under the gentle, warm touch of his lips. He trailed kisses all the way down, and he lingered on my hipbone, letting both his lips and stubble brush my skin until I was on the verge of going crazy. “Chris, you fucking tease,” I growled. A huff of laughter warmed my skin, which didn‟t help at all. I took a breath to beg him to just suck my damned cock, but before I could speak, his tongue made one gentle circle around the head of my cock, and my spine arched right off the bed. Then he closed his lips around my cock and took me inch by inch into his mouth, rising and falling at almost the same speed he‟d fucked me. After a few strokes, he added his hand, and I was lucky I didn‟t levitate right off the bed. I gently grasped his hair, and my hips moved of their own accord, falling into the same rhythm as his hand and mouth. 130

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Lightning skittered along my nerve endings. Air left my lungs faster than I could draw in more. My fingers trembled in his hair, and my muscles tensed and quivered as every flutter of his tongue and stroke of his hand intensified that deep ache of an impending orgasm. “God…damn…” I groaned and shuddered. “Don‟t stop, Chris, don‟t stop…just like…just like that…oh, fuck.” My back arched off the bed, the world exploded around me, and I fucking lost it. I came so hard my eyes watered, and Chris kept me coming until I begged him to stop. I put a shaking hand over my eyes and tried to catch my breath. “Your mouth is amazing, you know that?” I slurred. He gave a quiet laugh. Then the lube bottle clicked, and I pulled in a sharp breath. When I opened my eyes, he glanced up from putting on more lube. “You didn‟t think we were done yet, did you?” he asked with a grin. “Definitely not.” Now, could I take much more? Probably not. That didn‟t stop me from wanting more, though, and as he guided his cock to me again, I had to bite my lip just to keep from releasing every curse this sailor knew. Chris pushed in slowly, and he‟d barely moved in an inch before he groaned and shuddered. I reached up and put my hand on the side of his neck. He looked at me, meeting my eyes, then sank down to me, and his lips met mine in the same moment his cock was buried all the way to the hilt inside me. Neither of us spoke. Sometimes we kissed, sometimes we couldn‟t, but as he fucked me so deliciously, perfectly slowly, the room was silent except for our sharp, ragged breathing and our bodies moving together. 131

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Then he rose up on his arms and thrust a little harder. He screwed his eyes shut, and his lips pulled back in a grimace, and the cords stood out from his neck, and I couldn‟t remember the time I saw anything so damned hot. I rocked my hips back. Chris gasped, letting his head fall forward as he fucked me even harder. “Like that?” I asked through gritted teeth. He responded with a low groan, and when a shiver straightened his spine, I rocked my hips a little more, and he let go of the most arousing, helpless moan I‟d ever heard. Shuddering and trembling, he slammed into me as deep as he could, and swore under his breath before he collapsed over me. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head. He panted against my shoulder for a while, until his shaking arms would hold him up. Then he lifted himself off me and withdrew, but he didn‟t go far. Resting his weight on one arm, he kissed me again. Lightly, lazily, just like we always did whenever the urgency had passed and we were just content in each other‟s arms. For a minute, anyway. “I should get rid of this condom.” He kissed me lightly. “Before I get too comfortable.” I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair. “Go ahead. I‟m not going anywhere unless you want me to.” He grinned. “No, stay right there.” “Will do.” With one last, brief kiss, he got up. He disappeared into the bathroom, and when he came back, muffled whining came from outside the bedroom door. “Sounds like someone wants to join us,” I said. “She does.” He glanced at me. “You don‟t mind her in here, do 132

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you?” “Not now, no.” “Just be ready for some company on the bed.” He opened the door, and the dog made it across the room in about two strides before leaping onto the bed. I laughed. “I suppose this isn‟t just because she likes me, is it?” “She likes everyone.” He chuckled and patted the dog. Then he pointed at the floor and snapped his fingers. “Raven, bed.” She obediently jumped down and went to her own bed. In a jingle of tags, she flopped down. “Sorry about her,” he said as he joined me under the covers again. “She gets excited about people.” “Could be worse.” I rolled onto my side so we could face each other. “She could be a biter.” “In which case she wouldn‟t have the run of the house on the off chance I unexpectedly brought someone home.” Our eyes met, and we both swallowed. “Do you…” I paused. “Do this often?” “Not really, no,” he said, almost whispering. “I had a boyfriend for a while, but otherwise…” He gave a one-shouldered shrug and rested his hand on my arm. “Between graduate school and the new job, I haven‟t really had time.” Holding my gaze, he added, “Or the inclination.” I caressed his face. “Is that because of…” I hesitated. “Because of you?” A touch of warmth reached my cheeks, and I nodded. “Yeah.” “Yes and no,” he said softly. “I mean, school and work had a lot to do with it, but…” He watched his hand run up and down my arm. “I kept catching myself thinking about you.” Then he quickly said, “You know, I never did get a look at your tattoo.” He craned 133

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his neck to look at my arm. Though I didn‟t want to change the subject, this wasn‟t an easy conversation to have. Maybe we needed to address it a little at a time. So, without a word, I shifted so he could see my ink. He gave a quiet laugh and met my eyes. “Finally got your lifer tat?” “Yeah.” I chuckled. “Figured after I‟d crossed the ten-year mark, it was time.” His gaze shifted back to the tattoo, and he absently traced the outline of the shark and anchor with his finger as his humor faded. I took his hand and brought it up to my lips. “Chris, what are we doing?” “I don‟t know.” The tip of his tongue swept across his lower lip, and with some effort, he looked at me. “I‟m not sure if we should be asking what we are doing, or what we should be doing.” “Any chance the answer is the same?” He sighed and shifted his gaze back to my tattoo. “I highly doubt it.” “Then let me ask you this,” I said. “What do you want to do?” He took a breath. “In a perfect world, I‟d say I want to keep doing this. Go back to what we had when we were on cruise. But…” He shook his head. “As long as you‟re enrolled at the community college, I could get into some deep trouble for sleeping with you. And even without DADT, you know something like this could kill your career.” “And what if I was willing to risk my career?” He looked in my eyes. “I can‟t ask you to do that.” “You‟re not.” I propped myself up on one arm and leaned in to kiss him. “I‟m offering. But only if you‟re okay with risking yours, too.” 134

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“That‟s where things get complicated,” he said. “We can come up with all these romantic notions about what we‟re willing to risk, but let‟s be practical. We‟ve both worked too hard to get to where we are.” “I know. But what if we kept it on the down-low?” I stroked his cheek with my backs of my fingers. “We‟ve done it before.” “And if someone finds out, then what?” He swallowed. “As long as you‟re enrolled here, I could get fired for sleeping with you.” “And I‟m only a year or so away from graduation,” I said. “But you still have, what, nine years until retirement?” I nodded. “They can‟t touch me now, though. If we come out after I graduate—” “You‟d really want to set yourself up for the hell and harassment you‟d get in your command? Come on, you know as well as I do there are ways for people to give you shit without getting themselves in trouble.” “I know.” I combed my fingers through his hair. “But somebody has to be the one to come out and set the example.” “Are you sure you want to be the sacrificial lamb?” “Considering what happened when I picked the Navy over you last time?” I nodded. “I‟m absolutely sure.” He smiled, but that smile fell, and he released a breath. “Look, I know I was abrasive and hostile toward you when you first started coming to my class. I was hurt. I was angry. And maybe on some level, I still am.” “You deserved to be,” I said. “I‟m not holding it against you.” “Still,” he whispered. “I‟m sorry. And this…” He slid his arm over my waist and moved a little closer to me. “I missed this.” “Me, too.” 135

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He shifted his gaze toward my tattoo again. “The thing is, I would have picked up where we‟d left off when I got out. I loved you, and even though what we had on deployment wasn‟t easy, I was happy. I‟m just…” He sighed and met my eyes. “On one hand, I want to jump in with both feet and pick up where we left off. On the other, there‟s so much complicated shit, and I‟m afraid of one of our careers, yours or mine, fucking things up again.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “I don‟t think that‟ll happen this time. Not now that we know what we stand to lose.” I lifted his chin so he looked me in the eye. “And I don’t mean what we stand to lose in our careers.” I swallowed. “My only concern is if the secrecy will be too hard on you.” I leaned down and kissed him, letting it linger for a long, long moment. When I broke the kiss, he whispered, “Are you sure about this?” “Absolutely,” I said. “I‟d rather spend the rest of my career looking over my shoulder and hoping no one catches on, than spend it without you.” “And if it comes out?” I shrugged. “Then it comes out. They can‟t kick me out for it anymore, and I‟ll take whatever the guys throw at me. I‟d just be stupid to let you go again.” He smiled and kissed me. “I‟m not going anywhere.” I laughed and pulled him closer, and we let ourselves get lost in a deep, tender kiss. “I love you,” I whispered. His lips curved into a grin against my lips. “I love you, too.” “I do have one question for you, though.” “Hmm?” I pulled back enough to look at him. “That wasn‟t the only 136

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condom you had, was it?” Chris laughed. As he pulled me closer, pressing his hardening cock against my hip, he said, “Trust me. I have more than enough.” Then his lips met mine, and the conversation was over. Sooner or later, I‟d bite the bullet and come out. The only thing stopping me now was the very real and very unpleasant backlash that could result. But there was no way I was keeping Chris or the way I felt about him a secret for nine years. Sooner or later. For now, the only person who needed to know was right here. He knew I loved him. He loved me. And nothing else mattered.

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EPILOGUE CHRIS About eighteen months later 11:21 A.M. Watching the ship pull in was surreal. Three times in my life, I‟d been up on the flight deck in my dress whites, looking down at the pier as the tugs carefully nudged the boat into place. This was the first time I‟d been down here, staring up at a towering gray vessel much like the ones I‟d called home for months at a time. Instead of trying to pick out loved ones in the throngs of families and friends, I was squinting up at the row of sailors, searching for familiar faces. Not that I‟d find Justin among them. Everyone on the deck was dressed in their whites; Justin had 138

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put on chief a month or so into the deployment, and thus would be in khakis. The crowd around me thickened. People carried flowers, balloons, all manner of gifts, and the occasional child asked, “Where‟s Daddy?” I hooked my thumbs in my pockets and shifted my weight, resisting the urge to wander up and down the crowded pier just to get rid of all this nervous energy. I wasn‟t even sure what I‟d do when I saw Justin. Where were the lines now? Things had gradually changed over the last year and a half. We‟d both been able to breathe easier when he transferred from my community college to a university. After a few months, long enough to put to rest any suspicions that we‟d been involved while he was enrolled at the college, we slowly let the rest of the world in on our relationship. Not the whole world, though. We still kept everyone in the Navy in the dark for the time being. Justin wasn‟t quite ready for this to bleed into that universe yet, and I didn‟t blame him. DADT was long gone, but there were promotions to be won and political games to be played. As it was, I was surprised when he wanted me to be on the pier waiting for him. Then again, he didn‟t have family in the area, and I knew as well as he did what it was like to have no one there to greet me while everyone else was embracing friends and family after half a year apart. So, Marnie had gotten me on base with a visitor pass, since my inactive reserve ID had expired. She and Emily hung back near the gate, chatting with some friends while I waited closer to the quarterdeck. Technically we were supposed to stay together, but with as crowded as it was on the pier, we‟d just tell anyone who asked that we‟d gotten separated. Not that I was concerned. I 139

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doubted anyone would notice me, never mind question me. My stomach was in knots, though, for entirely different reasons. It had been six months since the ship pulled away, and no amount of e-mail, webcam chats, and phone calls could close the distance. I couldn‟t put my finger on why I was nervous about seeing him. Or maybe it was just excitement. Nervous energy, if anything. Possibly some nerves that people would catch on as soon as Justin and I laid eyes on each other. The secrecy had gotten old. I wouldn‟t deny that. It was a necessary evil, of course, but man, it sucked. At least we could commiserate with Emily and Marnie. And for that matter, Emily and I got the better end of the deal when it came to formal events. While Marnie and Justin decked themselves out and made the rounds as a happy couple, Emily and I stayed home with a bunch of B horror movies. I‟d been to enough military formal events in my life. Sitting at home with a friend and watching shitty films was always more fun. Admittedly, though, I‟d been a little bummed out watching Marnie and Justin head out for the Christmas party not long before he left for this deployment. I didn‟t want to go to the party per se, but I wanted to be the one with my hand in his. In public. In front of everyone, whether they liked it or not. I took a breath and forced back both the memory and the emotions tied to it. We‟d chosen this. No one ever said it would be easy. Even if we had to keep it a secret, I still had him, and I wouldn‟t have traded him for anything. I turned my attention to the ship. Slowly, sailors made their way down the ramps. Couples embraced. Kids tackled their mothers and fathers like Raven still tackled me when I came through the door every night. It was hard 140

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to watch reunited couples kissing for the first time in months, and I caught myself turning away whenever a pair moved in for that first kiss. It wasn‟t that public displays of affection bothered me, I just wished Justin and I could do the same. We‟d been apart just as long as everyone else on this pier. I kept an eye on the quarterdeck, my heart jumping into my throat every time someone appeared in a khaki uniform. And…there he was. I couldn‟t help grinning, and it was all I could do not to break into a run. Calling on every ounce of restraint I had, I casually started working my way toward the end of the ramp. He‟d definitely spent some time out in the sun, and the light brown uniform emphasized the hint of bronze in his skin. It wouldn‟t have surprised me in the least if, when he took off his cover, his hair was a lighter blond. Gold anchors gleamed on his collar, but had nothing on the sparkle in his gorgeous blue eyes as we worked our way through the crowd toward each other. Thousands of miles of ocean and phone lines shrank to fifteen feet, ten, five… Like there was no reason in the world not to, Justin threw his arms around me and kissed me. A few gasps and murmurs went up around us, but no one on earth was more surprised than I was. It only took a second, though, for me to wrap my arms around him and return his kiss. As much as I wanted to drag him down onto the nearest flat surface and get him out of that uniform, I was still conscious of the people around us. It was a passionate kiss, no doubt about that, but we kept it as appropriate as anyone other couple on this pier. The breathless, insatiable lust could wait until we were behind closed doors. The startled and occasionally disapproving murmurs around us 141

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made me a little self-conscious, but when I broke the kiss, neither Justin nor I looked anywhere but right at each other. “Uniform looks good on you,” I said. He laughed. “Thanks.” Running his fingers through my hair, he whispered, “God, I missed you.” “I missed you, too,” I said. He kissed me again, lightly this time, then hugged me. As I held onto Justin, a young sailor caught my eye from ten or twelve feet away. An E-4, according to his shoulder. He was wideeyed like plenty of others who‟d stopped to stare at us, but there was something else in his expression. And just before he looked away, the kid smiled. Closing my eyes, I held Justin tighter. “Question for you,” he said softly. “Hmm?” He pulled back and grinned at me. “Do you have that new documentation instruction?” Barely holding onto my emotions, I said, “I e-mailed it to you last week.” We held each other‟s gazes, then both laughed and embraced again. Behind him, Marnie watched us, grinning. Then she slipped her hand into Emily‟s, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd. Someone shot Justin and me a disgusted look, but I just closed my eyes and drew in a long breath of Justin‟s aftershave. It was impossible to predict the fallout from this. He couldn‟t be prosecuted or disciplined, but higher ups had their ways of showing their displeasure about things like this. Justin knew that, Marnie knew that, and they‟d both evidently decided they were ready to face whatever came their way. 142

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The future would be what it would be. All I knew was, my sailor was home…and I didn‟t have to pretend he wasn‟t.

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L. A. WITT L. A. Witt is an erotica writer who is said to be living in Okinawa, Japan, with her husband and two incredibly spoiled cats. There is some speculation that she is once again on the run from the Polynesian Mafia in the mountains of Bhutan, but she‟s also been sighted recently in the jungles of Brazil, on a beach in Spain, and in a back alley in Detroit with some shifty-eyed toaster salesmen. Though her whereabouts are unknown, it is known that she also writes hetero erotic romance under the pseudonym Lauren Gallagher. To learn more about L. A. Witt, please visit her website at http://www.loriawitt.com. *

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Don’t miss Getting Off The Ground by L. A. Witt, available at AmberAllure.com!

After being stood up at the altar, compulsive over-planner Elliott Chandler decides to turn a honeymoon on Oahu into a vacation for one. Fate puts a hitch in his plans, however, when the airport is snowed in and his flight is delayed.

In the airport, the jilted groom catches the eye of another stranded traveler—the laidback and very sexy Derek Windsor. Derek breaks the ice and strikes up a conversation, and as the temperature drops outside, the heat between them rises. Pity they’re both going to different islands, but if their flight doesn’t leave soon, Mr. Calmand-Cool may just tempt Mr. Play-It-Safe to do something reckless. And that plane isn’t going anywhere any time soon…

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