“It’s literally on a volcano.”
I laughed this time, not bothering to hide it. “It sure as hell beats the desert.”
“Yeah. I bet it does.” She scrunched her nose up. “What was it like over there?”
Stiffening, I downed a big gulp of beer. I didn’t like talking about that. I saw more men die than I could count, killed more men than I wanted to count, and lost too many friends. Seen too many of them lose themselves, even myself. It was a constant battle to remain, well, me. To not lose myself to the memories or pain. But with her, I don’t know, it seemed right to answer. Like she deserved to know. “It was hell. And that’s about all I have to say about my time over there.”
“Is that why you never wrote back?” She lifted her beer and pressed it to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. I couldn’t look away. “Because you had nothing to say?”
Yes. And no. I hadn’t written back because I had nothing to say to her. While she chatted on about her life, and her future, I didn’t know whether I even had one anymore.
But who wanted to hear that?
“I read all the letters,” I said, instead. “Every single one.”
She swallowed a sip of beer and leaned against the counter. The new position made her breasts jut out, and, again, I couldn’t stop staring. “You did?”
“I did.” I still had them, upstairs in my room. Like Tyler said the other day, no matter where I went, or how many times I moved, they came with me. But I’d die before I admitted that. I also wouldn’t tell her that some of them had been reread over and over again, until they started to fade away. “I liked them. I missed them when they stopped.”
We stared at one another, neither one of us speaking.
I wanted to ask her if she’d stopped writing because she’d stopped loving me. But really, what the hell was the point? No matter what she answered, it wouldn’t change the fact that she was more than likely going to marry Derek, and I was going to continue on with my life alone. For some reason, that didn’t feel as good as it once had.
And I had no idea what was on her mind, but she seemed equally contemplative.
Finally, I cleared my throat and walked into the living room. She followed behind me. “What’s gonna happen when I move to Hawaii?”
She let out a little laugh. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“What I mean is, who’s gonna be here to remind you to have fun? To make choices for yourself every once in a while?” I sat down and patted the spot directly next to me. She curled into the sofa without hesitation, her knees brushing my thigh as she settled in. “Who’s gonna be your next mistake?”
“You weren’t a mistake,” she said, her voice soft. “You were one of the best decisions I ever made. That night, in your arms, I felt in control of my own life for the first time…well, ever. And it was exhilarating.” Peeling back the label of her beer, she bit down on her lower lip. “Thank you for giving me that.”
I swallowed past my incredibly dry throat and tugged on my jeans. My cock had come to life the second she touched my thigh, and it wasn’t going to shut up anytime soon. “Lilly…you’re welcome. But let’s be honest. It was hardly a selfless act,” I said drily, trying to lighten the moment before I gave up the fight and pounced on her.
Her mouth quirked up at the corners. “No?”
“No.” I chugged back some beer. “But you can’t just screw somebody when you need to let off steam. You need another thing. Maybe another person.”
She blinked at me. “You want me to find another man?”
“Hell, no.” I scowled. “Christ.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I know. Neither do I.” I rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “All I know is I want you to be happy, and I know Derek won’t be any help there. So you need someone else. A best friend. A confidant. Something.”
“I could have you…” She peeked at me. “We could write one another. Email, this time. Text, maybe. Or even better? You could stay. Not go.”
I laughed uneasily, because I almost wanted to say yes. I wanted to be her support network, the person she turned to when she was in need, even though I knew it would kill me a little each time. “Based on past history, I think we know any correspondence between us would be one-sided.” I purposely ignored her suggestion I stay.
It was out of the question. The last thing I wanted to do was stick around long enough to watch her marry Derek. Not even I was that masochistic.
“It wouldn’t have to be. I’m not saying we’d have to share deep, dark secrets. Just keep the lines of communication open.” She smiled sadly. “If you wanted to try. We could still be friends.”
My heart twisted because she wanted to rely on me, and I didn’t think I could be that guy for her. Eventually, I would let her down. Eventually, I would damage her. And I didn’t want to do that. Not to her. Anyone but her. “I can’t make you happy, Lilly. I can’t be that guy.”
Lifting a shoulder, she finished off her beer and slid it across the coffee table, acting as if my rejection didn’t upset her. I got up and grabbed two more. Part of me wished I could be the type of guy who was okay with being the person she called when she had a bad day, or when she wanted to celebrate good news. The man who stuck around so he could be the guy who filled in as her plus-one at events Derek couldn’t attend. The guy whose shoulder she cried on when she needed someone strong to lean on.
But I wasn’t. And I didn’t want to just be a stand-in. I wanted more, and for the first time in my life, I was willing to admit that.
By the time I returned, she’d relaxed back against the couch, her hands resting on her flat stomach. Her thighs were parted ever so slightly, and I knew if I crawled between them and kissed her, she wouldn’t say a damn thing to stop me. Knew I could have her, if only I decided to forget about what I really wanted, and stopped worrying enough to take what she offered. If only I could go back to being the selfish bastard I truly was.
But I’d worked hard to keep my distance from her these past few days. To treat her as a stepbrother should. I couldn’t let all that hard work fade away.
So instead of doing that, I sat down beside her.
And kept my damn hands to myself.
“How’s work going?” I asked, feeling like an idiot. I was no good at small talk, and now was no exception. I would rather ask her if she would like me to get her off again than talk about her job. Which was why I didn’t make a good person. “Do you get paid yet?”
She laughed. “No. Daddy says I need to prove my worth before I get a real salary. He doesn’t believe in handing things to someone just because they’re his kid.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” I said, thinking back on all my encounters with good ol’ Walt. “All too well.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She stared off into the distance, at nothing I could see, smiling slightly. “I’ve only got ten more months till I’m in, though.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “A whole year?”
“Yeah.” The smile slipped away. “Twice as long as any other intern.”
Damn, her father was even more of a prick than I remembered—and that was saying a hell of a lot. “If you could do anything, anything at all, what would it be?”
She swallowed. “That’s a deep question.”
“Sorry.” I wasn’t. “If you asked me a month ago, I’d say I would go back to my platoon, be back in the trenches with the guys. Now I’m really hoping the Hawaii thing works out. Being a recruiter is different, but it still has that army brotherhood I love so much. It’s not the future I thought I’d have, but it seems like it would be a pretty good one.” I swallowed back some beer. “Your turn.”
“You just have an answer all ready to go, don’t you?” she muttered.
“Doc Greene makes me talk about the future a lot,” I said quickly. “I saw her today, and we talked about it.”