Soldier On (8 page)

“Thanks a lot, Christian.”

I hang up without even saying goodbye.

Now that I’m completely pissed off with pretty much everyone and everything, I toss my uneaten muffin in the nearest garbage can and head out into the chilly January air. What I really need to do is study, but the textbook I need is back at the apartment, and I’m in no mood to deal with my roommates. A run would be good, but since my kickboxing workout kicked my ass, I decide to walk up to Rainbow Rock instead. It’s the one place on campus where I can find a little peace.

I walk . . .
slowly
, and I’m sort of regretting my decision to hike up the mountain until I reach the top of it.

She’s there, sitting against the rock. Her hair is in a ponytail, which gives me a perfect view of her neck.

I really love her neck.

Our kisses have been fairly innocent, but there was this one spot along the column of her throat that, when I kissed it, she would sigh softly. If I kept kissing it, those sighs would eventually turn into moans.

I really love the moans, too.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?”

Steph turns her head in my direction. Her brown eyes are sad and tired, and I know I’m the reason. I also know that, in this moment, at the top of this mountain, it doesn’t matter if she hates the color of camouflage.

I want her, and just maybe, she wants me, too.

“I can think of worse things to do than to stare at the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Right.”

“You are, Steph.”

“Then why do you keep running away from me?”

I walk closer to the rock and sit down beside her. “I just . . . needed some time to think, that’s all.”

She pulls her knees close to her chest and places her cheek against them, gazing thoughtfully at me. A lock of brown hair has fallen into her eyes. I reach over, gently brushing it away.

“I guess I owe you an apology. I know I offended you in some way, and for that I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steph.”

“No, it’s not. I get a little worked up, and I’m well aware that my opinion of the military isn’t a rational one. But I can’t help how I feel. I just can’t support something that stripped me of the chance to know my father. Can you understand that?”

And for a moment, I can.

It’s a memory—deep, dark, and filled with grief—but it’s important I tell her. Because in a weird way, I do understand. I get how you can attach an irrational response to childhood trauma, even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

I clear my throat. “I loved caramel apples when I was a kid. It was the night before Halloween, and I talked my mom into making them. She went to the store to buy butter and sugar, and she never came back. I was ten years old.”

“Oh, Brandon—”

“I blamed myself, of course. Kids are good at that. I just didn’t understand. From that day on, I hated Halloween and caramel apples. Still do. It’s not rational, and I know that, but old habits are hard to break, and childhood wounds run deep.”

Steph slides closer and places her head on my shoulder. Her hair smells like peaches and cream, and I close my eyes, burning the scent into my memory.

I never want to forget it.

“I’m sorry you lost your mom.”

“I’m sorry you lost your dad.”

The winter wind blows across our faces. She’s wearing a jacket, but she trembles anyway. I wrap my arms around her, and she slides closer. For the first time in hours, I finally feel myself relax.

This isn’t normal. It can’t be.

“Why is this so easy?” I ask her.

She laughs a little. “It wasn’t so easy last night. Why did you get upset? I mean, we haven’t talked much about your dad. Was he in the military or something?”

I close my eyes.
Have I never mentioned I’m in Army ROTC? How has that never come up in conversation? And what about the New Year’s Eve costume? Did she really think the camo and war paint was just some random disguise?

“My dad served two tours in Vietnam.”

Her eyes widen. “Vietnam?”

“Yeah, Dad’s sixty-four. My folks waited until he was retired before having kids. Mom always said she didn’t want to be a single mother, and she would have been. Dad was married to the military.” I laugh, but it’s not at all humorous. “It’s ironic. She waited until he was retired, and
then
she left him.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Have you seen her since?”

I shake my head. “She’s called a few times. I have nothing to say to her. My sister raised me. Dad . . . tried his best, but military discipline and parental discipline are two very different things. He had a hard time distinguishing between the two.”

“He was on hard you,” she says softly.

“He wasn’t cruel, but he was tough. Very structured. Very rigid. I rebelled hard when I was a teenager. We clashed a lot.”

“Is your relationship better now?”

Up until three years ago, my relationship with my father was the best it had ever been, due to the fact that I was doing exactly what he wanted and joined the Army. But now . . .

“I’m sorry. Is that too personal?”

I smile sadly and shake my head.

“It’s just a little hard to answer, that’s all.”

She nods as if she understands before placing her head back on my shoulder.

“We should go,” I say after a while. “The sun’s going down. It’s just going to get colder.”

“Okay.”

Taking her hand, I help her to her feet, and I don’t let it go, not even when we’re past the rocky terrain and back on the concrete sidewalk that stretches through campus.

Steph looks up at me. “Are you still mad?”

“No. I understand why you feel the way you do. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it.”

“That’s fair,” Steph says. Then she laughs. “But you know what’s not fair? Having to find a new roommate.”

“Who’s looking for a new roommate?”

“I am. Tessa and Xavier are moving in together. With utilities, our place is about $600 a month. I need to find a roommate because I can’t afford it by myself. Plus, I’d like to stay there because our building is one of the few that allows pets. I can always move back home with my mom, but then I’ll be commuting. That thought doesn’t exactly thrill me.”

I quickly do the math in my head. I could totally afford that.

“Umm, Steph?”

“I placed an ad on Peyton Central, hoping someone out there needs a place to live, but the only people who replied are guys probably looking for a girlfriend and—”

“Steph, I—”

“It’s just completely depressing and I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. Could we go get some hot chocolate or something? It’s really cold.”

It’s too perfect. How can she not see how perfect it is?

I stop in my tracks and pull her close, wrapping my arms around her.

“Better?”

She sighs and snuggles against my chest. “So much better.”

I hold her tight and wonder how my shitty day has, within moments, become the best day ever.

I need a place to live. Steph needs a roommate. If I can keep my hands to myself, I could show her that I’m a good guy. A decent guy. Despite the fact that I’m committed to the United States Army. Despite the fact that I’m a soldier. Her opinion of military life is an emotional response to a heartbreaking situation, and I can’t blame her for feeling the way she feels.

But what if I can change her mind?

For me.

It’s in this moment that I accept the fact that I care for this girl far more than I should. We just met a few weeks ago, and we barely know each other.

But what if we
got
to know each other?

They say you don’t truly know someone until you’ve lived under the same roof with them. Yes, I’m twisting that philosophy to justify what I’m about to do, but in this moment, with this girl, I am willing to take the chance.

Even if it means keeping my mouth shut about my life as a soldier.

For now.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Stephanie

Flurries swirl in the breeze as we continue on our way to the apartment. I find it strange, because it doesn’t seem cold enough to snow.

Maybe that’s because he hasn’t let go of you since you left the mountain.

“Steph, I can’t believe you posted on that website. Are you insane?”

“No, I’m desperate.”

“And I’m hurt.”

Now what did I do?

I look up at him and frown. “Hurt? Why?”

“Have you forgotten that I’m looking for a place to live?”

I’m stunned. I
had
forgotten. But even if I’d remembered, I don’t know that having Brandon as a roommate is the answer to my problem. It could actually
create
problems, and that’s the last thing either of us need.

“Brandon, I’m not sure the two of us living together would be a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, we don’t know each other that well.”

“I think you know me a little better than you know the complete strangers on that website.”

Good point.

“It’s very important that I graduate on time.”

“And you think having me as a roommate would keep that from happening?”

“I think you could be a very, very distracting roommate.”

“Oh. I understand.” He laughs softly and walks away.

I have to practically run to catch up with him. “You do?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t say another word as we walk toward my building. When we reach the apartment, he grabs my hand and swiftly pins me against the door. His face is just inches from mine.

“You like me.”

Brandon brushes his nose against mine. It’s such a sweet, innocent gesture, but it’s enough to make me shake in my snow boots.

“Yes, I like you. I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too, Steph. A lot. Far more than I should, I’m afraid.”

He sighs and buries his face against my neck. He tenderly kisses the skin there, and a soft moan escapes my lips.

“See, Brandon? That’s why I’m afraid that living together, where we will be free to touch or . . . whatever . . . anytime we want, might not be the best idea if we want to keep our eyes on the prize.”

Brandon raises his head and grins slyly. “Or
whatever
? Whatever could you possibly mean?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course that’s the part you heard.”

He chuckles and lowers his head, kissing me gently.

“I understand, Steph. You’re afraid I won’t be a gentleman.”

“No. I’m afraid I won’t want you to be.”

“And I can’t promise that I will be, so maybe you would be safer with a complete stranger.”

“Brandon, that’s not what—”

“It’s okay. Because you’re right. The one thing neither of us can afford to lose is our focus.”

I can hear the defeat in his voice, and it makes my heart ache.

“But we’re okay?”

He kisses my forehead. “We’re great.”

“Good.” I smile. “Do you want to come in? Tessa’s probably out with Xavier. I could make that hot chocolate?”

He nods, and I lead him inside. For the rest of the evening, Brandon laughs and talks and pretends everything is okay between us, and maybe it is. We’re still getting to know each other, so I’m not very in-tune with his moods just yet, but I can’t help but feel that he’s forcing it, and that maybe I truly disappointed him.

And that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.