Chapter Eleven #2
“I know. He said he was going to, that he was gonna use it as a teaching moment. I told him I was okay with that, as long as he eventually told the truth. I don’t want the reputation for being a quitter following me to the teams.”
“What the actual fuck.” Matt slammed his fist down on the mattress between them. “That’s messed up.” He glared at Shane before turning on his other side away from him, his shoulders bunched and tense.
“It is. I’m sorry.” Shane reached out to run tentative fingers over Matt’s arm. “I asked Bernson to give you a message but of course he refused.”
“That asshole.” Matt fumed for a moment before canting his head back to look at him. “What was the message?”
“That I’d get in touch when I could. That I didn’t quit and please don’t hate me.” When Matt’s eyes widened, he muttered, “I might’ve been a little delirious.”
“A little?”
They chuckled together, and then Matt said, “Dude, we were all hallucinating like crazy by the end of the Week. Everyone saw all sorts of fucked-up shit.” He grimaced. “I probably wouldn’t have even remembered your message.”
“Well, in that case…” His heart starting to pound, Shane scooted a little closer to him. “I, uh, didn’t quit.” Pressing a soft kiss to the back of Matt’s neck, he whispered, “Please don’t hate me.”
Matt mumbled something that sounded like “ridiculous,” but he didn’t shrug him off, so Shane slid even closer and draped his arm over Matt’s waist. “This okay? Am I hurting you?”
“No.” Matt held himself rigid for a few seconds, then slowly, by increments, relaxed back against him. “You’re so warm.” He shuddered. “There was a time I wasn’t sure I’d ever be warm again.”
Tucking the comforter more firmly around him, Shane went ahead and spooned in. “How’s that?”
“Amazing.” Matt’s voice was a breathy sigh. “Don’t move, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Matt was quiet for so long that Shane was convinced he’d fallen back to sleep.
He’d just closed his eyes, too, when Matt said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.
That when Hell Week was over, I’d come back here to find you gone.
The thought of it was—” He paused. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel about that, Shane. ”
“You and me both.” Because the last thing I ever wanted was to get involved with another SEAL.
“Aww, fuck, I gotta sleep.” Matt’s voice was growing more slurred. “Make sure I’m up by eleven?”
“You got it.”
Relief kept Shane awake long after Matt drifted off.
He didn’t hate him. The rest of Shane’s boat crew?
Well, that remained to be seen. They wouldn’t much care about why he did what he did, all they’d know is that he’d abandoned them to carry his share of the load during some of the worst days of their lives.
It’d been a difficult week for him, too.
Not just because of the fear and worry over Lex, but at the sobering realization that choosing life in the SEALs meant he was putting her through so much of the same shit Jon had all over again.
Thank fuck he was able to be there for her this time, but what about the next?
The knowledge she supported him, and loved him, despite the painful memories all this had to be dredging up for her had belatedly hit him like a ton of bricks.
On the way to the hospital that night, he’d been racked with guilt over leaving his boat crew, and layered with his terror over Lex, it’d been hard to hold back the tears.
Bernson had noticed. He’d reached over and put his hand on Shane’s forearm, murmuring, “It’s okay to cry, son.
I’m not going to think less of you for it. None of us are Superman.”
The quiet understanding helped Shane regain control. As much as the media liked to portray SEALs as sexy, alpha superheroes, in reality so many of them were simply exhausted husbands and fathers—or brothers—trying to straddle two different worlds and make them both work.
With a snuffle, Matt burrowed back into him. Shane tucked his face in his neck, breathing deeply of the scent of the ocean and sleep-warmed skin.
“Ah, Soup. What’re we gonna do now?”
No answer, just a quiet snore. Despite their rocky start, Matt had shown himself to be honorable, owning his shit and doing his best to fix his mistakes. He was understanding, with a gruff sort of kindness that amused Shane as much as he was drawn to it. Above all, he didn’t play games.
And he felt so right in Shane’s arms. So right.
* * *
“Holy shit, it’s the zombie apocalypse.”
Matt stared out the windshield at the men lurching toward the medical building, some barely able to walk and having to be helped by others.
Watching him closely, Shane waited until he’d pulled himself painfully from the car before saying, “When should I be back to pick you up?”
“Oh, I forgot.” Matt propped his elbows on the passenger side window frame. “Bernson is taking us out to lunch afterward and I don’t know when I’ll be done.”
Shane held out his hand. “Gimme your phone.” When he did, Shane entered his number in Matt’s contacts and gave it back. “Text me. Problem solved.”
“You’d better not send me dick pics.” Matt pushed off the truck and hobbled away, his knees still swollen.
Shane sighed as he watched him struggle to walk. It was hard to imagine he’d be well by Monday, but training started up again at 0500 on the dot, whether he could walk or not. Hell Week was over and it was time to move on.
He ran a couple of errands while he waited for Matt, including a quick pass through a fast food drive-thru. As he was pulling back out on the road, his phone rang. Instead of Matt calling to pick him up, it was Alexis.
“Hey, baby girl. How’re you feeling?” Shane stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, washing them down with some cold Coke.
“A little better. Mom’s driving me crazy already, though.”
“Of course she is. You scared us all to death, Lex.” Shane knew she hadn’t called to chit-chat, and sure enough, it wasn’t long until she got to the point.
“Will you do me a favor? If I give you Derek’s number, will you maybe invite him out once in a while, like to a Padres game or something?”
“What? Lex, I have to start First Phase all over again in a couple of weeks. I’m not gonna have time to—”
“I know, but if you can, will you try? He doesn’t have a lot of friends—”
Shane remembered Derek rushing into the hospital, a lanky, nice-looking guy with shoulder-length black hair, bright green eyes, and a shy smile. He’d seemed devoted to Alexis, not wanting to leave her side for a minute.
He probably doesn’t have a lot of friends because he’s burned so many bridges.
Shane didn’t say that, but Alexis had confided in him about Derek’s struggle with addiction, how he’d stolen from his family’s business, taken advantage of the people who cared about him.
She insisted he was trying to turn things around, but Shane didn’t know him, didn’t really want to get to know him. What was the point?
Maybe she sees something in him nobody else does.