23. Connor
CHAPTER 23
CONNOR
T oday was yet another one of those days when I envied the people I worked with who still blissfully inhaled energy drinks like they were going out of style. After fooling around with Alex, and then FaceTiming him afterward until way too late, I desperately needed the caffeine, and coffee wasn’t delivering.
No matter how tired I was, though, I wasn’t going to tempt fate. The coffee would just have to do.
And it can kick in any goddamned time now.
In my office, I downed more than I probably should have in one go. Then I headed out to see my first patients of the day.
From 0700 to 1200 was sick call, so I mostly saw service members who needed light duty chits or SIQ, which meant they were sick-in-quarters. I kind of hated that the military required them to show up to sick call in order to get out of work. If they were in bad enough shape that they couldn’t go to work, then maybe asking them to drag themselves to medical to prove it was counterproductive?
Buuut I was just a lowly lieutenant commander who didn’t make the rules.
This morning, I signed off a light duty chit for a Seabee who’d hurt his back “working on a buddy’s car” on his off day. Sure, my dude. That explained the bloodshot eyes and the obvious headache, too. Knowing the Seabees, they’d partied hard the past couple of days, and he’d probably done something stupid while drunk. His back was definitely hurting like crazy, though, and as far as I was concerned, my job was to help him heal, not judge him for how he did it. So I gave him some high-octane Motrin, put him on light duty for the next five days, and told him to come back and see me next week.
After him was a Master at Arms who’d felt like crap for a few days, had been sick all morning, and said her lower back hurt so bad she couldn’t even put on her gun belt.
“My section leader kept telling me to just suck it up,” she said miserably. “But when I threw up this morning, he got scared because now he thinks I’m pregnant.” With a wince, she added, “I’m worried he might be right.”
They were both wrong—the UTI she’d been steadfastly ignoring (and he’d been telling her to knuckle through) had spread to her kidneys, which was why her back hurt so bad. I had a corpsman escort her to the emergency room for some IV antibiotics, and I called ahead to make sure they got her in immediately. Then, with the MA’s permission, I personally called the security officer to strongly advise him to brief his department about being this reckless with a Sailor’s health.
“I just sent one of your MAs to the emergency room, Lieutenant,” I snarled at the SECO. “Another day, and she’d have been coming in by ambulance. There is no excuse for forcing a Sailor to keep showing up for duty until she’s as sick as she is, and this not the first time it’s been someone from your department. I see one more Master at Arms at sick call with a story like hers, and so help me, I will get my CO, your CO, and the base CO involved. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir” came the satisfyingly meek response. “I’ll talk to my people.”
He’d better hope he did, because I wasn’t joking.
I was still fuming over that when I headed into the room for my next patient, but I paused outside the door to collect myself. Deep breath. Mental refresh. Whoever was in the room had nothing to do with my lack of sleep, the ineffectiveness of my coffee, or the utter incompetence of the base security department.
I pulled it together and got through that appointment. Then the next. Then the one after that. Little by little, my fury over the MA’s treatment died down, but it still set the stage for rest of the day.
God, I can’t wait to see Alex tonight.
Every time that thought crossed my mind, my mood brightened a bit and my energy kicked up a notch. The day could be the biggest shitshow in the world, but at the end of it, I’d see Alex. I’d do more than see him, and I couldn’t wait.
Not a moment too soon, I was walking out to my car and texting Alex that I was on my way home. All the way from Rota to Sanlúcar, I drummed my fingers on the wheel and fidgeted in the driver seat. I was exhausted from a long day, but just thinking about tumbling into bed with him was like shotgunning a couple of those forbidden energy drinks.
Couldn’t. Fucking. Wait .
At home, I quickly showered and put on shorts and a T-shirt, mostly so I didn’t scandalize my neighbors when I opened the door for Alex. I didn’t imagine I’d be wearing any of this for long.
And finally, he was here. My whole body was practically vibrating with excitement as I headed for the door. I always wanted him, but after the long and frustrating day, I needed his touch and his warmth.
I opened the door to let him in. Our eyes met, but only for a second before he shifted his gaze away from mine. My good mood and the day’s anticipation fled in an instant. As Alex came inside, alarm twisted beneath my ribs.
“Hey.” I nudged the door shut. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” He laughed halfheartedly as he rolled his shoulders. “I’m, uh… I’m good.” He stepped closer, his eyes begging me not to notice how weak his smile was.
Something wasn’t right.
I touched his waist but didn’t move in for a kiss. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m… I’m good.”
“Alex.” I ran my fingers along the edge of his jaw. “Talk to me.”
He opened his mouth as if to insist that, no, everything was fine. But he held my gaze, and slowly, he deflated. My heart sped up, both with relief that he was dropping the facade and uneasiness over what he was about to tell me.
Breaking eye contact, he raked a hand through his short hair and exhaled hard. “It’s… I ran into my ex at the Exchange.”
I stiffened. “Your ex? That creepy asshole you warned me about?”
Chafing his arms, he nodded. “Tobias, yeah.” He blew out another breath and suddenly radiated bone-deep exhaustion. “God, I am so damn tired of him.”
My hackles went up. “What happened? What did he?—”
“It’s fine. Nothing happened.” Alex patted the air, then rested his hands on my chest. “I mean, he was kind of a dick, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
I relaxed minutely. “So… what happened?”
As he ran me through the conversation, anger roiled in the pit of my stomach. I’d been wary of Tobias from the beginning because of Alex’s warning, but now I knew Alex. I cared about Alex. And the fact that this asshole was harassing Alex made me see red.
And that was before Alex said, “He’s been coming by my apartment.”
“What? Wait, he’s still coming around?”
“Yeah. When I’m not there.” Alex shuddered. “Thinking—I don’t know, I guess he thought if he dropped by, he’d eventually catch me when I was home and horny.” With a humorless laugh, he added, “Then I’d let him in and sleep with him.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh at how pathetic this guy was, or risk my career with a confrontation at the hospital. I wasn’t a possessive or jealous man, but anyone who made someone I cared about this nervous—anyone who harassed him this much—deserved a one-way conversation and an attitude adjustment.
Alex continued, “He made some noise about how he thinks I must be seeing someone I shouldn’t be. Like asking if you’re married and…” He waved a hand. “I don’t think he actually knows we’re hooking up—that it’s you and me, specifically, I mean. I think he’s just fishing around for a reason to harass me.”
“That fucker,” I growled.
Alex’s eyebrows jumped.
“Is there anything you can do about him coming to your place?” I asked.
“Not really. He’s not trespassing or anything. I doubt the cops would care much, and the MAs can’t do anything because he’s off-base.”
I sighed. He was probably right.
“I’m sorry.” Alex’s shoulders fell. “I… We were supposed to be having fun this evening, and I?—”
“Why are you apologizing?” I caressed his cheek. “You didn’t do anything.”
“No, but I kinda killed the mood.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. Your asshole ex fucked up your day.”
“Yeah, he did.” Alex sighed. “I was really looking forward to tonight, too.”
“Me too, but we can take it easy if you want to. We can have dinner by the pool and just relax. There’s no pressure from me even when your ex isn’t being a dick.”
“I know. I… You’ve never pressured me. I just feel bad that we were going to have a fun night together, and then…” He waved his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I wrapped my arms around him and let him lean against me. Stroking his short hair, I whispered, “We’ll get back to the fun another night. Right now, let’s just take the pressure off. I can order delivery from that Italian place around the corner, and we can eat outside. Then maybe put on a movie or something if you want.”
He let out a long breath, and his whole body seemed to relax into my embrace. “That sounds really good.”
“It does.” I pressed a kiss to his temple. “The rest—it’ll keep.” I paused. “And you’re still welcome to stay here tonight even if we’re not fooling around.”
He drew back and met my gaze. “Yeah?”
“Well, yeah.” I smiled. “I like having you here. I’m going to have nights where I don’t want to have sex either, but I still want you here.”
He studied me for a moment, and little by little, he relaxed even more. Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Okay.” He rolled his shoulders. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” He paused, and when he spoke, he cautiously lifted his eyebrows. “Though, we’ve been meaning to try that kebab place.”
“Ooh, you’re right, we have. And I’m pretty sure I can order online.”
The smile that broke out was tired but genuine. “Perfect. Let’s go have a look at their menu.”
I was still angry with Tobias, and I was a little disappointed that Alex and I wouldn’t be fooling around tonight. But he was here. As we perused the kebab restaurant’s menu, placed our order, waited for our food, and then started eating outside in the evening sun, he relaxed more and more. He came back to life. He smiled and laughed more easily. By the time we’d settled in to watch a movie, he was back to himself enough that I almost wondered if sex might still be on the table after all.
Almost. We’d both eaten enough that we could barely move—holy crap, that kebab place was incredible. But seeing the flirty sparkle return to his eye… feeling him curled against me while we watched the movie… letting those kisses linger as we got ready for bed…
Yeah, he’d be okay.
That, more than anything else, was what mattered.
Nice try, Tobias.
You’re not getting that far under his skin again.
* * *
The thump against my back startled me out of a sound sleep. For a split second, I thought it was something from the bloody, smoke-scented dream I’d been having, but the movement and the muffled whimper beside me brought me fully back to reality.
I rolled over and caught Alex’s flailing arm just before he’d have bumped me again, and I slid up next to him. “Hey. Hey. Alex. Wake up, baby.”
His whole body jerked, his heel catching me in the shin, and I gave him a subtle shake as I said his name again.
Then he stilled.
After a second, he released a ragged breath.
“You with me?” I whispered.
“Y-yeah.” He relaxed back against me. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I smoothed his hair, which was damp with sweat. “It happens to me too. Just breathe.”
He breathed. “Fucking sucks.”
“I know it does.” I wrapped my arm around him and kissed the back of his shoulder. “But I’m not upset about it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
From the way he relaxed minutely—yeah, he’d been worried about it.
“I mean it,” I whispered. “It’s PTSD. I get it.”
He pushed out a ragged breath. “Still. I’m sorry.”
I just held him closer and kissed his shoulder again. This didn’t surprise me, given how brittle he’d been yesterday. I’d had days like that, too, and the worst nightmares were almost inevitable afterward.
“You okay?” I stroked his hair.
He pushed out a long breath as he relaxed in my arms. “Yeah. I still don’t even know what the fuck triggered it, but…” He trailed off into a sigh.
I still wondered if it was the confrontation with his ex yesterday, but I didn’t mention that. No point in drawing his attention back to that shitshow when he was already rattled. “It doesn’t always need a trigger, does it?”
He seemed to think about that. “I guess it doesn’t.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, skin scuffing over stubble. “I keep thinking it’ll get better, but…”
“I know the feeling. Especially when it happens out of nowhere.”
“Seriously. And when there is a trigger, it’s usually the stupidest shit that sets it off, too.”
“Right?”
Alex huffed a humorless laugh. “I was a ball of anxiety for a whole damn day once because someone was driving one of those street racer cars, and the NOX system backfired.” He groaned. “For fuck’s sake. I knew what it was, too.”
“You knew,” I said. “But your subconscious didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, you consciously knew it was a car backfiring. But that lizard brain that’s still fucked up from the war heard a bang and didn’t know what to make of it.”
He sighed again. “Maybe? I guess?”
“It’s happened to me too.”
“Has it?”
“Mmhmm.” I thought for a second. “I took my boys to a sandwich shop once, and you know those big cooking sheets? The ones they use to bake the bread?”
“Yeah?”
“Someone dropped a stack of them.” I sighed, my stomach knotting at the memory and my face burning from the past embarrassment. “One of the boys had to text their mom to come get us.”
“Really?” Alex breathed.
“Yeah. It was the stupidest thing, you know? Especially since I knew what it was. But it hit one of those tripwires in my head, and I just… I didn’t trust myself to drive. My hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t text Aimee, so…” I cringed. “I had to have Quinn do it.”
“How old was he?”
“Fourteen. And they were both pretty rattled from the whole thing. I felt terrible about it for a long time.”
“But it wasn’t something you did,” he whispered. “Something triggered your PTSD—that’s not… I mean, it’s not a character flaw, you know?”
“I know.” I kissed his shoulder again. “But in the moment, I felt like it was. Which is probably what you’re feeling right now.”
He tensed, then relaxed. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” He found my hand and clasped it gently in his. “And… thanks.”
“Of course.”
“Dealing with this shit would be so much easier if we could get some goddamned therapy,” he muttered.
“I know, right?”
The military had made some token efforts toward letting us access mental healthcare. The Brandon Act was a good start, but there was still a long, long way to go.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” I said. “The military gives out PTSD like it gives out Good Conduct Medals. We can all name at least a dozen people who very obviously have it, ourselves included. But if we get diagnosed, suddenly we’re not fit for duty anymore.”
Alex grunted unhappily. “You’d think we’d be better fit for duty after getting diagnosed and treated.”
I gave a sharp, humorless laugh, but said nothing. What was there to say?
After a while, he whispered, “One of the things I’m looking forward to the most when I retire is being able to get therapy. Like, without worrying it’ll affect my job.”
“I’m glad you’ll be able to get that. I’m looking forward to it myself.”
He released a breath and seemed to relax even more. I wondered if, on some level, he’d been afraid to admit that out loud, and now he was relieved that I’d said the same thing. Or maybe I was projecting.
Either way, I was glad he was starting to calm down now, and that he was going to get help after the military.
I was glad he was feeling better than he’d been when the nightmare had shaken him awake.
And, holding him close and remembering all the nights I’d been in his boots …
I was glad he wasn’t alone tonight.