2. Tommy
CHAPTER 2
Tommy
A pounding head is what wakes me. Sitting up, I realize I’m not in my bedroom, nor am I at my apartment. There’s a clock on the wall in the shape of a largemouth bass. Under that is a Coors bar sign with a blinking letter O. I’m at Rhyder’s condo. Moaning, I throw my legs over the edge of his couch and rub my head. I just got back from a training trip, and he wanted to go out immediately.
“There you are. Back with the living again?” Rhyder calls from the kitchen.
“How did we get back here, and why didn’t I just go home? I hate this fucking sofa. It kills my back. Every time. Every single time.” Ruffling my hair, I go to the bathroom and grab aspirin for my headache. Rhyder is rattling on about his conquest from last night, yelling from the other room. “Sounds exciting,” I mutter, dragging myself into a barstool. “What’s her name?”
He smiles wide. “I don’t even know! That’s the best part. My favorite kind of hookup. No talking.”
I blow a breath out of my nose. “Yeah, I forgot for a half second you were an absolute dog.”
“We can’t all be born-again virgins, Tommy. Someone has to uphold the SEAL creed. The unspoken creed, I mean. Dangerous motherfuckers with loose morals.”
“That is a small fraction of SEALs, and any large group of alpha personalities will have those like you and others such as me. Stop trying to explain away your whoring. You won’t make it make sense. You don’t want a relationship. You want sex. It’s as simple as that. Admit it.”
I clear my throat as he shoves me a cup of reheated black coffee. “What is it you want? Daniella dropped your ass and moved on. What are you waiting for?”
“She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s confused.” Daniella is my high school sweetheart. Worse, since middle school. Although we planned to wait to have sex until marriage, we screwed up. The first and last time was six months ago when I finished BUD/s training and became a SEAL. She visited me here, and I let things go too far. We had sex. Dani broke up with me before flying back home to Texas. Unlike the times before, we haven’t spoken. She told me I wasn’t the man for her because I wasn’t godly enough. A hard pill to swallow because she was the one begging for it. Hell, she was even riding me. I take the blame. I keep telling myself that I should have asked her to marry me the second she landed in San Diego. That if we were engaged, she wouldn’t have viewed the sex in the same way she did. I wanted to wait for the perfect moment. I even had a ring, but oddly enough, it didn’t come. We haven’t spoken since. My mom tells me she’s working a lot but hasn’t said anything about her dating anyone new. It wouldn’t surprise me, though. We’ve only ever been with each other.
I’m tempted to date other women, but something about it always seems like cheating on the memory of Daniella and Tommy. We’re from a small ranching town, and everyone always said we’d end up marrying each other. It was supposed to be destined—the simple part of my life. My love life is what I struggle with most. Everyone knows SEALs don’t have good work-life balance, but with how things go for me, I only have work. Sex without emotion feels pointless because I’m not after the high. I want something real.
Coming to terms with it not being Dani is the first step. Rhyder signed me up for a dating app months ago, but I deleted it from my phone. Aren’t those women only looking for one thing? The one thing I won’t give them. “Or maybe she’s not confused, and I do need to move on, but I’d rather err on the side of caution in one area of my life.”
“Tommy, you’d be a more focused operator if you got some pussy.”
I roll my eyes and finish the stale coffee. “Did we get a ride here from the bar last night and then get blitzed like last time?” I ask, changing the subject.
“You were hammered all night and figured it was better you stayed here. Wasn’t sure you’d make it inside if I put you in a car and sent you home.” He watches me thoughtfully. “Even black-out drunk, you rejected the women crawling all over you. I know you loved Daniella in the only way you know how, but what if she was in the minor leagues, and you’re turning away your wife weekend after weekend?”
“My future wife isn’t trolling bars acting like a Frog Hog, dude. She’s probably at book club, church group, or the gym.”
“Why aren’t you at book club and church group then?” he asks. “She’s not going to appear at our gym.”
Glancing at my watch, I remember I have an appointment on base with the new trainer. He’s been hired to give us personalized workouts tailored to our bodies and goals. “I’m lost in the sticks right now. If Dani comes around, at least I’ll be able to say I’ve been loyal to her.” Lost is the wrong word. I’m confused as fuck.
“You’re pathetic, Tommy. Worse than pathetic.” He says it jokingly, but there is truth behind his words. Most of the men are like Rhyder. Or on the opposite end of the spectrum, they’re married. I can’t name one of my teammates who is in the same predicament as me.
“As true as that may be, I need to head in to work. Unfortunately, I have to work out.”
He bids me farewell as I call a ride to the bar we were at last night to get my truck. Everything in Coronado is close, so I’m parking in an empty lot thirty minutes later, cursing myself for scheduling this on a weekend. I scan into the building and head straight for my locker cage to change into PT gear. We have uniforms for anything physical training related. Black shorts and a khaki-colored shirt. I lock up behind myself, leaving my phone because it’s not allowed in any other area of this building, and push into the frigid gymnasium.
It’s state-of-the-art, of course. Only the best for America’s most elite force. There are a few guys spread out on the lifting equipment, and tapping away on a laptop in a side office, is a tiny woman. The glass window gives me away, and she glances up from the screen, smiling, and waves me in.
“You must be Thomas Towne, my morning appointment. I’m Margo Reiz,” she says, standing and extending her hand. She’s wearing an all-black workout outfit. The sexy kind that distracts men from doing what they’re supposed to do in the gym. Margo senses my hesitation because she drops her hand. “I’m well qualified for this job, I assure you. Our company has high standards, and the vetting process by your squadron and this base is serious.” Ah, so my teammates thought the same thing I did.
“How rude of me.” I approach quickly, grabbing her hand from the side. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I was expecting a man. A big burly dude who loves protein and electrolytes. You are a surprise,” I admit. “A pleasant surprise, but I’m sure all the men who came before me told you the same.”
“Actually,” she says, grinning. “They didn’t say it in such a tactful way. I’ve emailed you my credentials and achievements, and they hired me because I’m the best in the business.” Her eyes flick over me in a way that gives me a thrill.
My attraction to her is immediate and defies all logic. Why not one of those women at the bar last night? Why a woman who I have to work with?
“You didn’t lie about your height in the questionnaire you filled out,” Margo says, lips quirking upin one corner. “All your answers helped me create a game plan for the perfect workout for you. This is more than personal training. I take your health and the dynamics of your career into consideration when crafting a workout schedule.” Margo keeps talking about when she began her career and how she secured the contract at the SEAL base here, but I lose focus because her lips are shiny, and her face is…perfect. Even the tone of her voice lulls me into a false sense of security. I want to know more, no, I need to know more, about her.
“You ready to see what I cooked up for you?” I get the sense this isn’t the first time she asked by the questioning look in her eyes.
“Yes, of course. Thank you.” I follow Margo from the office into the expansive gym, trying my best not to watch her ass cheeks jiggle with each step.
“Tell me your favorite kind of workout,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “What really gets your blood pumping?” Is she fucking with me? I can’t tell, and I bet I’m blushing from embarrassment. “When you leave the gym, what makes you feel energized but tired enough to know you’ve worked out hard?”
Another glance and I swear it was just to see if I was looking at her ass. “I, uh, like to lift like most guys. I hate cardio the most, but that’s probably also like most guys. Intervals are fun, as long as they’re short and don’t bore me,” I say, taking her question literally so as not to say something stupid and offend her.
“I nailed it, I think.” Margo goes on to explain how she is incorporating some cardio into my interval training so I don’t have to spend a lot of time running on the treadmill. “We’re going to start on the rowing machine,” she says.
I swallow hard. “Will you guide the workout every day?” It could go either way. I die trying to impress her, or she flusters me into falling on my face.
I start rowing as she increases the resistance. “There are a lot of you and only a few of us so we divided the men. You are stuck with me as long as you don’t have any complaints.” She looks at me, a sarcastic smirk on her face. “But I won’t guide the workout every day. I’ll email you the workout plan and will be available at certain times of day. Eventually, our company will shift coasts to work with the other SEAL teams.”
The workout goes by in the blink of an eye. Mostly because I was trying to talk to her the whole time without passing out from lack of oxygen. “So, what time do you work out?”
She’s heading back into the office, a sheen of sweat on her forehead from demonstrating a lift I most certainly knew how to do. “I work out early. Before my appointments. This is the nicest gym I’ve had access to. State-of-the-art stuff.”
Still catching my breath, I nod. “Well, it was the best workout I’ve had in a long while, so I thank you, ma’am.”
She grins. “I saw your file. You’re from Texas. I’m from Texas, too.” I recognized her accent straight away but would never assume. “You called me ma’am, and it reminds me of home.”
“Texas is a big state. If you researched me, you saw I’m from the middle of nowhere Texas.” I wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’ll be here early.”
“Sounds like a plan, Thomas.”
“It’s Tommy,” I say.
“All right, Tommy. My next appointment is waiting. Excuse me.” Margo smiles, and I wonder if she grants all my teammates the same gift.
Watching her walk away, I don’t hide my perusal of her tight body or the sway of her hips. I’m trying not to be a lecher, but I know I like her personality more than her ass. That scares me. Showering, I dissect every word I said, and all the words I should have said. I curse myself for assuming she was flirting with me. I assumed a lot of things with Dani and that was the death of us. Honestly, I probably know less about women than I think I know.
The rest of the day is mine, and I grab lunch by myself, shop for a birthday gift for my cousin by myself, mail the gift alone, and return to my apartment to cook dinner for one. Rhyder is my friend, and I spend my weekend nights with him and a few other guys, but that doesn’t quell the loneliness felt the rest of my days. I’m a successful operator because I can focus fully on my career without any distractions, but other guys make relationships work. I concluded that maybe I’m not waiting for Dani. Maybe I’m dragging my feet for other reasons.
After I eat, I call my parents. As always, Mom answers on the second ring, breathless. “Son, I’m so happy to hear from you.”
“I call you every day I’m home, Mom. You act like it’s a surprise.”
“We miss you a whole bunch. It’s been almost a year since you’ve been back home, so even though we talk a lot, I really want to hug your neck.” She exhales noisily. “Tell me about your day.”
This is where I feed her the generic lines. Worrying her is something I’d never do purposefully, but my life by proxy is probably the most dangerous you can get. “I got a new workout regimen today.” I clear my throat. “The personal trainer is a woman from Texas.”
“A woman?” Mom is just as shocked as I was.
“Yeah, a real nice girl.” If I say more, it will send her hackles up, and I don’t want to give the wrong impression. “A new workout regimen and a whole diet plan. It will be good to switch things up.” I focus on what she’s doing for me instead. “We have a few more training trips coming up so it will be nice to have something to concentrate on outside of training, you know? Meal prep and staying on a workout schedule keeps me distracted.”
Mom breathes out heavily. “I wish you didn’t have to distract yourself.” Another deep breath.
“Mom, is there something you want to tell me? You know I’m always fine, you don’t have to worry. I’m safe.” I find my job has another unintended layer—convincing my parents I’m just as safe as I would be in any other office job. Rarely do they buy it, but I do think it helps ease my mother’s nerves. “That’s why we train so much and why I have to distract myself. So, it’s not all about…work.”
“It’s not you, honey, it’s something I have to tell you about someone else. Some distractions are good, and others are plague-like. I’d hate to share something that makes you upset in any way. I know this is a big ask but can you come home for a weekend? Maybe this is better told in person.”
My heart races. “I’ll come home for a weekend. I can take a long weekend. Are you okay? Is Dad okay?”
“We’re fine, we’re fine. A lot is changing with ranching these days, and we want to talk to you about something in person, and there is another thing,” she whispers the last part.
“Who died, Mom?”
“Daniella is engaged to Ron Steelchase.”
I wince. “That workers’ comp attorney? With the square, fake teeth and billboards all up and down the interstate? That Ron Steelchase?”
She breathes out heavily. “One and the same.”
I raise one brow. “That was a quick rebound.” It feels like I should say something more, something significant, but it doesn’t affect me like I thought it would.In fact, I feel nothing at all other than relief. Is this the permission I didn’t know I needed? Is it okay to find a relationship? I want to believe it is, but in truth, it is only making me feel more alone, more like a failure.
“Evidently, he comes from a Christian family, and word on the street is that they’re rushing to marriage to keep the relationship pure. We got our invitation and one for you and a plus one today,” Mom sighs, but it sounds like a moan. “You know I love Dani, but this doesn’t sound like her at all. Maybe when you come home, you can talk some sense into her. You guys were made for each other.” There it is. A reason we were together for so long. Expectations, and not just our own.
“Is there even business on the ranch, or is this your attempt to get me to ruin an engagement, Mom? It was her choice to break up and move on. She didn’t give me a say. This is her choice, and I’m not going to do anything about it.”
“There is ranch business, but there’s also this Steelchase nonsense, so me and your daddy figured it might be enough to lure you back.” My pulse hammers against my neck, a vibrato of pent-up sadness and frustrations. This is what I need, a dose of reality so strong it catapults me into the next chapter. Sure, this is without my permission, but it must be a sign to throw in the towel for good. This isn’t Daniella asking me to fight for her. Not after all this time without communication. This truly is her finding what she wants.
“I’ll come home. You didn’t need to trick me, you could have just asked. Dani’s business isn’t mine anymore. I’m okay.” I want to break something and make her feel this level of betrayal, but I’d never let my emotions dictate the decisions I make. It’s as if by destroying other’s expectations, she’s doing damage I can’t control, though.I’ve always been methodical. Above the line. A man of honor in all circumstances. When I committed my life to the Navy, I knew the sacrifice—wanted it. It also means I bottle up a lot of things that might present as unsavory if they slipped into the public eye. My dad gets on the phone and makes it worse by waxing poetic about how he never liked Daniella and how I outgrew her when I began my career as America’s elite. If I was so elite, I’d be able to keep a relationship stable.
“Stop, please. I’ll see you guys soon. Tell everyone I’m coming. We’ll have a BBQ, the whole bit.” It will be torture catching up with everyone with the recent news swirling, but it will speak louder if I don’t see everyone to prove I’m not shriveling up in the desert, dying of heartbreak.
I end the phone call, and I feel weak. I blame the workout, but a wave of exhaustion hits, and I know it’s more than that. The depression comes and goes like it has my entire life. Happy and sad are both only a modicum of measure. As I lay down, I close my eyes and try to figure out what I’m feeling because on my typical sliding scale, I’m nowhere recognizable. Think about work, I tell myself. Worry about the ranch and the training trip hell, I’d settle for dwelling on what-ifs of my impending deployment over the void. My phone chimes alerting me to a new email. It’s from Margo. It has the attachments she promised to send. It also has a brief note thanking me for my time and for being such a gentleman during our session. She signs off and adds a P.S. that tells me what time she’ll be there working out next.
I make sure my alarm is set to allow me enough time to make it there before she does, and toy with the idea of texting Dani. I know it would be bad form to let this slip by without at least acknowledging the gossip hotline informed me. She must assume I know at this point if the invites went out. Dani might have even hoped it worked quicker, honestly. Plugging in my phone, I roll over and try to fall asleep instead. The color black is what I have to think about to stop my mind from wandering. Black. Black. Black.
The sound of rapid, aggressive banging wakes me from a twilight sleep. Rhyder is wearing a party shirt. It’s a button-up with a loud print that reeks of cologne. I wasted an entire day in bed. “You weren’t answering, and there’s no way I’m taking no for an answer. Get dressed, we’re going out.” Again. It’s not always like this. Only when we’re home and especially when we have a deployment looming. He comes in followed by two friends. Tiger and Fish. Tiger is Tiger because his last name is Tigerty, and he has one sharp incisor, and Fish is Fish because his breath holds during BUD/s training were so impressive one instructor actually thought he was passed out or dead. No one is convinced he doesn’t have a set of gills hidden somewhere.
“It’s Sunday, dude. We have work in the morning.”
Tiger shuts the door, ignoring me to head into my pantry. “You had to work yesterday. How was your new workout?”
I swallow, thinking of how he probably responded to Margo. “Torture, like any new program.” Shuffling toward Tiger, I realize just how sore I am. “How was your trainer?” I ask, testing the water.
“He’s an asshole like all the trainers are. Barely let me come up for air, but I guess that’s their job, right?” Rhyder pauses. “Wait, there is more than one trainer? Who did you have?”
I swallow down the guilt because I know I’m about to lie, and I can’t explain why. “Same. Some muscle head who kicked my ass and delivered more cardio than is just.” Not a true lie, only partial.
“I had a chick,” Tiger says around a mouth full of chips. “My girlfriend was pissed when I told her. I was like, babe, I work with only men, legit a bunch of bros. One woman in the workplace ain’t a threat.” I wonder if it’s Margo.
“Technically she’s a huge threat,” Rhyder says, grabbing the bag from his hands, “But we know you aren’t cheating on Fern. She’d boil your balls and dip them in ranch dressing!” Rhyder turns toward me. “You slept all day again. You’ll be up all night anyway. Get dressed.” He’s right. I hate when he’s right because on the surface he seems like a jokester, uncaring about anything but himself, but he cares about me. More than he needs to.
Retreating to my closet, I pick a pair of jeans up from the floor and a shirt hanging on one of the sparse hangers. I don’t have many actual clothes. The uniform side of my closet is tidy and organized. Like my brain. One side a disaster, and one side kicking ass with a side of world domination.
Rhyder asks several times on the drive to the bar what’s going on, but I’m afraid if I start talking, I won’t stop. It’s easier to keep this to myself for now. I don’t want to think about Dani, or the ranch, or anything if I am honest. We pull into a spot across the street from the bar in a dirt lot. Dust swirls as I slam the door.
Tiger scrunches up his face. “His mood is like yellow warning tape. Get him a drink immediately.”
Instead of replying, or telling him to get bent, I walk ahead of my friends and head straight to the bar after showing my ID to the bouncer. A man who I could pick up with one hand and toss through a wall if I had to. I’m not proud to be thinking so violently, but it helps with my mercurial thoughts. I’ve already ordered a round of drinks by the time my friends belly up to the bar.
“The thing with getting out of the house,” Rhyder says, sliding on a stool next to me. “Is that your whole outlook on life needs to change.” I sip my drink, staring at a TV above the bar—some mindless sports game playing. “Is this about the letters?” Threats, not letters. “You know they’re just bullshit meant for whoever lived in the apartment before you.” My friend is so far off base, I have to smile. Turning my face toward him, I wrinkle my forehead.
“Is that so?” The letters had veiled threats, and the most recent letter had too many details about my life to be meant for anyone else, but I’m not afraid, no, I’m curious. This is a perfect way out of a conversation about Daniella. “Maybe they make me feel uneasy regardless of who they’re intended for because how could I possibly have enemies? Think about my life for a second.” These guys know everything about my past, and I’m the least threatening creature for miles. The thought gives me pause because the letters are definitely from someone who knows me. The information is personal, they are postmarked locally, and someone is making a real effort to threaten me.
“Drink up, mate, we have a whole night to forget about the pussy ass sending letters in the mail. He’s obviously too scared to talk to you face-to-face.”
“Anyone would be,” I deadpan. “Look at me.”
He presses his lips together. “I think you’re quite nice to look at. All things considered, I’d call you Grade A alpha beef.” I choke on a sip and shake my head.He has a pension for making jokes that also sound like pick-up lines. He calls it practice.
I roll my eyes and watch Fish approach a woman across the bar. She’s already looking his way so she will be an easy catch. They rarely have to work when we go to certain bars. The Frog Hogs are out prowling, looking for fresh meat, hell, even old meat, Hogs just want SEALs. I don’t know if it’s a special notch in their bedpost or merely because we come with the reputation that we’re good in bed. He probably won’t even have to buy her a drink. I watch the interaction closely. It might seem creepy to someone who doesn’t know I know Fish, but right now I just want to be someone else. Someone who has a different past, at the very least.
The small purse hanging on the chair next to me falls, and the woman who I didn’t even notice stoops to pick it up. The meager attempt I make at picking it up is enough for her to smile and thank me. She’s blonde with big brown doe eyes. I’m out in left field tonight. Unaware of my surroundings with little to no self-preservation skills.
“How are you doing tonight?” Her voice is kind, but it sounds fake. Fake like her tits. Fake like my love for Daniella. Fake like everything I thought meant something in this fucked-up world.
“Been better,” I say, twisting my lip between my teeth. “How about you?” I let my gaze land on hers. I still feel nothing.
“I’m meeting a date here. My first date in two years. I’m so nervous.” She shakes her head after ordering a drink from the bartender. “My friends forced me onto this dating app that’s supposed to be for serious relationships and not just hookups, but I have to admit when he asked to meet me at this bar, I definitely had second thoughts.” She looks to the door, then back to me. “And he’s late.”
“What’s the app called?” I ask, ignoring her emotions.
She tells me, and I recognize the name. Her face lights up as she sees her date walk in. I move out of my chair to give it to him, walk outside, and re-download the app Rhyder made a profile on for me after Dani dumped me. I can’t expect different results if I continue down the same path doing the same things.
Time to move on, even if it’s awkward. Even if I know deep down, I will never actually use the damn app. I’m too old-fashioned.