Chapter 5
FIVE
Austin
TWO YEARS HAD PASSED, BUT I never forgot her face.
Her striking brown eyes.
Those full, glazed lips.
That porcelain skin.
The innocence.
I’d tried to forget her, begged my memory to erase her. But she always found me. Why would today be different?
I sat up in my bed, leaving her in my dreams, where she belonged. My slow stretch forced my solid hard-on through the hole in the front of my boxers. Pushing my flannel comforter aside, I let the morning chill wake my skin and deter my blood flow.
The lace curtains my grandmother had hung when she lived here did a terrible job blocking sunlight. I made a mental note to replace them with blackouts the next time I hit the hardware store. The warm rays from the sun and her sweet memory dissipated my grogginess.
Many things had changed since I’d moved back into the house on Haroldeen Lane, where I had grown up. Unfortunately, being able to recall Elle’s face wasn’t one of those things. It was weird. The more time that passed, the closer I felt to her. Hopelessness disguised as hopefulness.
I had tried to find her through her college’s website, searching terms like Elle and undergrad psychology department, which failed to turn up anything useful.
Hell, I even attempted to use my recruiting connections with Coastal Pensacola College to track her down.
By the time they returned my call, I was already settled into my new promotion, and it didn’t make sense for the institution to shell out a student’s information without backing.
I’d stopped pressing for information for the sake of my professionalism.
And sanity.
There was no way she was on social media either. Because if she were, my numerous searches for women with her name living in Pensacola would have led me to her.
Did she and Jesse have a happily ever after?
He’d be a fucking fool if they didn’t.
The bitter thought left me stomping down the hall, pulling creaks from the planks supporting my feet with every step to the kitchen. The wood was solid, but so was I. It surprised me how well the floors my grandfather had laid so many years ago held up.
I shared his love of wood as a medium. Splitting firewood, carving, whittling—if it could be repurposed or transformed, he had done it. And when my young hands were around, he had taught them how.
I’d tried my best to maintain the house since moving back into it, painting when needed and polishing its natural surfaces. I incessantly mowed the grass surrounding the house on my days off duty and maintained the shit ton of landscaping to the best of my ability.
Still, the emptiness echoing in the halls made the house feel colder than I remembered, no matter how much effort went into preserving it.
I often missed their laughter and love. It was a warmth that only a connection like my grandparents could bring—a connection I hoped I’d be lucky enough to duplicate one day. So far, no such luck.
I switched the light on when I entered the kitchen.
An unhealthy amount of hazelnut cream swirled around my cup as I layered it into the coffee that auto brewed every morning at five thirty a.m., leaving just enough time to eat, shower, and dress before I reported to base.
I leaned back against the chilled countertop, swallowing a sip of the sweet liquid and giving my lingering boner a minute to chill out because time wouldn’t allow me to take care of it before work.
I didn’t have time for many things because the Navy came first. Always.
That was the life of a chief petty officer.
Twenty minutes later, my stomach was full of breakfast. The weather here was unforgiving in January, meaning I needed a peacoat over my uniform.
I grabbed it from the foyer, slung it on, and stepped outside.
I smiled, knowing the low temps would wake my class right the fuck up.
Intake days were always exciting, and helping boys become men was something I never grew tired of.
At six a.m., I swung open the driver’s door and climbed into my 1989 Jeep, ready to enjoy the ten-minute morning commute to base. The emerald beauty was my favorite car, long before my grandfather had willed it to me.
She sprang to life and purred when I cranked her up. The Ol’ Green Goddess was a classic. Reliable and fully restored. Complete with glossy caramel leather seats and matching stitching, she embodied a rugged yet classic charm.
I fucking loved her.
My ride to work was peaceful, aside from the part where “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield spilled out of the aftermarket speakers on both sides of the dash.
Of course it did—because why wouldn’t I need another reminder of Jesse and Elle?
The song’s uncomfortably relevant lyrics continued pummeling me.
Taunting me deep in my core, where they didn’t belong.
“Not again.” I shook my head, inhaling her absence.
Elle was long gone, and in the two years since I’d seen her face, I still hadn’t learned how to leave her there. Insta-love wasn’t real. So, why couldn’t I get her out of my goddamn head?
By the time the song ended, my base’s main gates greeted me. A light coating of frost glistened from their tall steel beams. I waited several minutes before approaching the front of the line of cars headed through the security checkpoint. I lowered my window before coming to a full stop.
“Good morning, Chief. Identification, please?” the armed guard asked.
I obeyed with a nod and handed it over.
Romano knew me—we’d worked together for two years. Still, he needed to scan my ID before letting me pass through the gate. Security was the top priority on any military base. We all took it seriously.
“Good morning, Romano. How are those twins doing? And Jenny? Is she recovering all right?”
Romano was an exhausted new father. I knew that not just because he’d told me, but because the bags supporting his barely open, bloodshot eyes had doubled in size since I’d seen him the week prior. Jesus, those things were gnarly.
“The girls are great. Thanks for asking. Have a nice day now. Enjoy the newbies.” He chuckled.
An authoritative beeeep left his handheld scanner. He returned my ID to me, triggering the arm of the entrance barrier to lift.
“Oh, you know I will.” A smirk lit up my face before I pulled forward through the checkpoint and toward the sizable bend in the road, leading straight to my assigned building. The sound of gravel crunching under my off-road tires accompanied me.
My lingering grin spread wider because I knew precisely what those newbies had in store—twelve weeks of Chief Austin Carterson as their instructor.