Chapter 2
Chapter Two
I’ve slept in sub-par locations—from barren, cold airplane hangars to soggy jungle—but it’s never hampered my ability to catch at least a few hours of shuteye. Until tonight. And it’s not the too-small couch.
It’s being in such close quarters with Ava. Wanting her but knowing she will always be off limits. I care about her too much.
“Hutch?” Ava calls softly from upstairs. “What did you mean by you might miss a lot of things?”
I blink into the darkness. “It’s eighteen months.”
“Middle East?”
I shouldn’t be surprised she’s put this together. It’s not a huge secret, but I don’t talk about my rotations in a lot of detail. “Yeah.”
“Are you excited?”
I tuck my hands behind my head. “Definitely.” I’ve been itching to get over there since I graduated from pararescue training.
Ava’s one of the only people who understands why I love my job and why the danger is an integral part of that love.
“Why didn’t you treat that girl today?” she asks.
“You’re a better doctor,” I say .
She laughs. “Even though you’ve saved more lives than I probably ever will?”
“Yeah.” I’m also not good with kids, and that is Ava’s specialty. She has a way of talking to children that puts them at ease. “I figured you could use the practice. I was standing by in case you needed an emergency trache.”
She laughs again, and I smile.
“I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
“Me too.” I’ve never had to perform a tracheostomy on a real person before. I have no doubt I could, but I feel the same way.
“Thank you,” Ava says.
“I’ll be your wingman anytime, Greely.”
It’s quiet from the loft, then I hear the bed give a little squeak, like she’s rolling over. “Night.”
I pull the blanket up to my chest. “Night.”
After a soft sigh, it goes silent from the loft.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, regretting that I didn’t tell Ava about the accident, or about what happened to my teammate and close friend Luke. Maybe it’s still too raw. Or maybe I don’t want to admit that I’m rattled. Until the accident, I probably believed both of us were invincible.
Above me in the loft, Ava sighs softly in sleep.
Fuck, she gets prettier every time I see her. Stronger, too, if that’s even possible. I used to worry that her going to a big city like San Francisco for medical school would change her somehow. Harden the soft edges I love so much. The ones I suspect she only shares with me. I worried too that we’d grow distant. That she’d pull away, like plenty of people have. My job makes it easy for people to stop caring.
But we’ve grown closer. Maybe it’s our Open When letters I carry with me when I’m downrange, or the little care packages she sends with a note telling me about the intense days of clinics and her tough instructors and her heartbreak when patients die.
Or maybe it’s because of our fight. Last year, someone broke into the apartment Ava shares with two other med students. Though nothing was taken and no one was hurt, I went crazy with worry that someone could hurt her. I begged her to get a security system, something simple, but she refused. Said she could take care of herself. But I couldn’t let it go.
So I did something stupid. I asked our mutual friend from high school, Jeremy Fisher, stationed at Travis Air Force Base in the Bay Area, to keep an eye on her. And good thing I did because a month later, a UCSF pharmacy student who lives only a few blocks from Ava went missing.
When Ava found out about Jeremy, she was furious. Told me to back off. You do not get to control my life from thousands of miles away! I admitted to her that I couldn’t stay committed to the work I do unless I knew she’s safe.
So we compromised. I told Jeremy to stand down, and she got an alarm system. Not exactly a win-win, but a solid truce.
By 4:00, my body clock, still set to Florida time, is going berserk. To keep from waking Ava, I close my eyes and rehearse the sequence for setting up an emergency rescue anchor, one meticulous step after another, over and over, like a meditation. It buys me another forty minutes.
When I open my eyes again, Ava is gazing down at me from the edge of the loft.
I wince. “Did I wake you?”
She shakes her head, making her long dark hair fall forward, framing her face. “I remembered the answer to a test question.”
I don’t like that her test worries are robbing her of sleep. Maybe I’ll push her extra hard on our run this morning to help her let this go. “Did you get it right?”
Her sly smile lights up her honey-brown eyes. “I did. Biosynthesis of nucleotides. ”
No idea what the fuck this means, but I give her a fist rally. “Atta girl.”
She laughs. “What got you up so early?”
“The anticipation of kicking your ass on this run.” While true, it’s not the whole truth, which definitely includes seeing her spectacular ass in running shorts.
“Someone woke up salty,” she says.
And horny. I force a deep breath. “Meet you outside in five,” I say, and peel back the blankets.
We follow the paved path past the other cabins at an easy jog, the sunrise just a ribbon of yellow kissing the jagged peaks of the Bitterroot Mountains. Ava’s strides lengthen once we reach the dirt. I settle at her pace for now.
“How’s your dad?” Ava asks over the huffing of our breaths and the soft tap of our sneakers on the soft ground.
“He’s taking Gabby and the kids to Disney World in a couple of weeks.”
“Are you going to see him?”
Out on the dark lake, small circles ripple outward from the fish below snapping up bugs for breakfast.
“Maybe.” I hate the hope edging into my voice. Dad’s busy with his family and his duties. And I’ll be busy with deployment prep.
“Did he make it to your Mountain Rescue Graduation ceremony?” she asks.
“No. Something came up.”
Ava’s quiet for a moment, but I can practically hear her thoughts churning.
“How are your folks?” I ask to change the subject. It’s too early to unpack my feelings, and what’s the point? Ava and I have never agreed when it comes to my dad. She thinks I should quit trying to impress him, but a part of me still tries, as if it could bring him back, or make up for however I failed to measure up.
“Really good,” Ava says as we round the first curve. “Mom’ s enjoying her summer off as usual. Going for hikes, working in her garden. I think she’s dating someone, but she won’t talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“She’s private about stuff like that.” The trail enters a grove of aspens, the leaves flashing golden in the rising sun. “Dad’s been really busy with rescues. They had a big one in the Bitterroots a few weeks ago. He really needs a bigger crew, but they don’t have the funds. There’s a levy this fall. Fingers crossed it passes.”
“I’ll be sure to send in my ballot.” Ava’s dad heads the volunteer Search and Rescue organization, is a captain for Finn River Fire, and might be the only person who scares me. Maybe because I sometimes sense he’s reading my thoughts about his daughter.
“How’s Louisa?” Ava asks, flashing me a smile.
“Between her flowers and horses and wrangling my sisters, it’s a wonder she ever sleeps,” I say with a laugh.
“Are we still helping this afternoon with the flowers?”
“She’s counting on it.”
“I have a new book for her,” Ava says.
I groan. “You two and your cowboy romances.”
She laughs. “Both of us are too busy for a real man, so book boyfriends will have to do.”
The idea of Ava fantasizing about some fictional cowpoke bending her over a hay bale makes my skin prickle, so I increase our pace a little. Ava side-eyes me, accepting my challenge with an arch to her brow.
By the time we’ve lapped the lake and added a mile to cool down, a sheen of sweat coats our skin. I stop at the cabin for my swim buoy and towels, then we continue down to the dock.
“What a perfect day to get married,” Ava says as the planks flex under our feet.
“I’m glad they let us help out today,” I say.
“Did you hear how much that company wanted to charge them to run the bar and shoot candids?”
“I’m sure it was a lot. ”
“Like ten grand. Ridiculous.”
“Jesse will do a better job anyway.” Sofie’s older brother is an amazing photographer and filmmaker.
“Agreed.”
At the end of the dock, I lower one of the sit-on-top kayaks to the water for Ava, then dive in. The cold explodes on my hot skin, refreshing and invigorating all at once.
“Aren’t you going to jump in?” I ask Ava when I come up.
She’s peering at me from the end of the dock. “It’s too dark.”
“I promise I’ll save you from the monsters of the deep.”
She glares at me. “I’m not afraid of monsters.”
“Come on, Greely. Get in.”
With an adorable scowl in my direction, she plugs her nose and leaps. When she comes up spluttering, her hair in her face, I can’t help but laugh. Ava is always so put together. It’s a rare treat to see her out of her element.
“Brr!”
I sidestroke closer to her, the gentle water making me feel sleek, my muscles eager to work. “It’ll put hair on your chest.”
She treats me to a full cackle before swimming back to the kayak. “Um, Hutch?”
“Yeah?”
“How am I supposed to get on?”
By kicking, she’s managed to wrap her arms across the kayak’s deck, but now she’s out of leverage. She gives another hard kick, but the boat’s too wide for her body and the force is all wrong.
Sure enough, the boat tilts like it’s going to flip upside down.
“Ack!” she cries over her splashing and the rubbing of her wet flesh on the plastic boat.
“Here.” I swim up behind her and grip her waist. “Ready?”
With a strong kick from my legs, I propel her out of the water. She lands on her stomach with a soft “oof,” bent over the boat, her ass in my face.
“Uh. Can you get a leg up? ”
She complies, swinging her right leg out of the lake, splashing me with a face-full of water. The kayak tilts again, so I give her rising leg a boost. Thankfully, Ava’s too focused on her walrus impression mounting the boat to notice that I’ve grabbed her inner thigh, my thumb brushing?—
“You good?” I say, yanking my hand back.
The boat wobbles as she shifts into a sitting position. “Yeah,” she pants.
Though I manage to focus on my swim, the methodic rhythm fails to soothe my fractured thoughts. At least I emerge from the water with my muscles feeling spent.
Maybe that’ll help me get through this day without doing something stupid, like kissing my best friend.