Just Drive

by L. A. Witt

  “Exactly what I need—an enabler.”

  “I’m not enabling anything.” He shrugged. “But I know you. And I know you’re not stupid when it comes to your career. If there’s something about this kid that keeps pulling you back to him even when you know damn well it’s a bad idea . . . well, who the hell am I to tell you to stay away from that?”

  “My best friend who doesn’t want to see me torpedo my career?”

  “I want to see you happy, Paul. You know that.”

  God. Right in the balls, Travis. Right in the balls.

  I lowered my gaze. “The regs are pretty clear on this shit.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I was really hoping you’d struck gold with this kid.”

  I did. You have no idea.

  After Travis had gone, I stared out the window again, watching a few streaks of rain slide down the glass in front of a blurry gray backdrop.

  The regs were what they were. Circumstances couldn’t be changed.

  And even though I knew it was stupid, that I was risking everything I had ever worked for, I hoped Sean would call.

  Schoolwork wasn’t happening because that required more than three brain cells devoted to something other than Paul. Workouts weren’t a helpful distraction anymore, because I kept expecting to see him at the gym. Driving? I could barely concentrate enough to start the car, let alone drive anyone anywhere.

  I was losing my fucking mind.

  And finally, I couldn’t take anymore. This morning had been too much. We’d crossed paths at the gym for the umpteenth time, and I’d spent my workout alternating between surreptitiously drooling over his physique and fighting back tears. At least my dad had taken my watery eyes to be a sign that I was pushing myself during my lifts, but I was rattled.

  So I’d given in.

  I’d texted Paul.

  I’d driven to a crappy little motel outside of Anchor Point.

  And now we were lying together in bed, satisfied and grinning. My guilty conscience was eating at me, but not as much as usual. This was stupid and wrong, but damn it, cuddling up with Paul and kissing and touching . . . it all felt too right to be wrong.

  I’ll deal with my conscience tomorrow. Tonight, I need you.

  Right. Because that had worked well in the past.

  Oblivious to my brain doing somersaults around all the reasons we shouldn’t have been here, Paul smoothed my hair. “You mind if I ask you something personal?”

  “While I’m naked in a seedy motel bed after fucking you senseless?”

  Paul chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” His expression turned more serious, and he rested a hand on my waist. “You’ve been a Navy brat your whole life, I assume.”

  I nodded.

  “How . . . I mean, how has that been? That had to be rough.”

  “It’s the only life I’ve ever known.” I shrugged. “I think the completely civilian life would be a bit weird for me now.”

  “Well, yeah. But still. It’s hard on me, and I’m the one getting a paycheck. It’s hard to imagine what it’s like to be in it your entire life.”

  “It has its really, really shitty moments,” I said quietly. “Obviously there’s . . .” I gestured at him and me, and he grimaced as he nodded. I went on, “But it’s got its perks too. The health insurance is nice. Having my tuition paid. I’ve gotten to live in some cool places. Most of the time, the military has been good to me.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He paused. “Your dad must be close to retiring by now.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Dad? Retire? Not until he makes master chief at least. I heard him tell his girlfriend he thinks he could become Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy.”

  “Ambitious.”

  “Uh-huh. And it would mean moving to DC.” I wrinkled my nose. “No, thanks.”

  Paul grimaced. “Yeah. That’s not a great place to be stationed. What about your mom? Is she military too?”

  I shook my head. “No. And I kind of liked the idea of one of my parents staying in the same place, but living with her didn’t work out.”

  He lifted his eyebrows a little, like he wanted to ask what happened but wasn’t sure if he should.

  I shifted a bit. “The whole reason I live with my dad is my mom couldn’t support me. They split up when I was fourteen, and I was supposed to go live with her once she got settled in. But between the economy and her résumé, she couldn’t get any decent work.”

  Paul nodded slowly. “My ex-wife had the same problem. We’d moved around so much, she couldn’t hold down a job for very long, so her résumé had too many gaps and not enough long-term employment.”

  “Yeah, exactly. And it’s not like I want to rip on the Navy. It’s obviously been a good career for you and—” I hesitated. “It’s a good career, you know? But man, it’s hard too. The whole military life? And it isn’t like it’s shitty for me and sunshine and roses for my dad. I mean, he and his girlfriend have had it pretty rough too. They’ve only been together a year, and they’re already talking about getting married because once he gets orders somewhere else . . .”

  Paul frowned. “It’s either leave her behind or have a long-distance relationship.”

  “Yep. And he doesn’t really want to get married, but she really doesn’t want to do the long-distance thing. So it’s been hard.” I paused and met his gaze. “Is it weird to bring up my dad? When we’re . . . uh . . .”

  “No. He’s part of your life, same as the Navy.”

  “I know, but . . .” We shouldn’t be here and we both know it, and talking about this is talking about exactly why we’re being fucking morons.

  “I get it.” He kissed my temple. “And yeah, when you think about it, this whole thing is kind of weird. But it is what it is. I’m curious about you, and he’s part of your life.”

  “Even—”

  “Yes. Even if we shouldn’t be here.” He stroked my hair. “That doesn’t make a difference to me, by the way. I mean, I know it should. Professionally, it should. But here?” He cupped my cheek. “It doesn’t even register. You’re just you, not the kid of someone under my command.”

  I flinched, but then pressed against his palm. “Same here. I have to stop and think about it to remember you’re his CO.” Because I’m stupid. “All I think about is you.”

  Paul nodded. “Me too.” He sighed before continuing. “You know, I wouldn’t trade my career for the world, but I won’t pretend it’s been easy either. Isn’t easy for dependents either.”

  I sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Both of my ex-wives struggled like hell with it, believe me.” Paul released a long breath. “Well, that’s not entirely fair. The Navy didn’t make my marriages easy, but it wasn’t what ended them.”

  I watched him for a moment, not sure if I should prod. Though we’d been getting to know each other more and more lately, and he wouldn’t have brought it up if it was off-limits, so I quietly asked, “What happened?”

  He looked up at the ceiling, absently running his fingers up and down my arm. “If you’d asked us at the time, we’d have told you they didn’t realize the Navy came first, and I was stupid enough to put it first.”

  I didn’t say anything. It was hard to imagine Paul being like that.

  “The reality was . . .” He closed his eyes. “It was my fault. Not the Navy’s. Mine. We . . .” He was quiet for a moment. “Okay, in a way, it was because of the Navy. DADT was in effect, and every officer I knew drilled it into my head that no one made it past lieutenant without a wife and kids. A good-looking wife and well-behaved kids, of course.”

  “I’ve heard that,” I said.

  “Yeah. And I believed it. I also thought if I got married, no one would ever suspect I was gay.”

  “Except you.”

  “Except me.” He sighed. “Because back then, becoming a pilot and eventually becoming an admiral seemed like they were worth giving up anything. Including having sex or falling in love with people I was actually wired to
have those feelings for.”

  I shifted a little. “So wait, are you gay or bi?”

  “Gay. One hundred percent gay.” He rubbed his eyes, then sighed as he dropped his hand to his side. “But if I’m trying to stay married and preserve my career, I can fake it like you wouldn’t believe.” He grimaced. “At the expense of both my ex-wives. I doubt they’ll ever completely forgive me for it, and I don’t blame them one bit.” He turned to me. “That was a long time ago. I promise I’m not the asshole I was back then.”

  I smiled and ran my fingers through his damp hair. “I know. I wouldn’t be here if you were.”

  His lips pulled into a faint smile as he lifted his head to kiss me softly. Lying back again, probably hoping I didn’t notice that slight wince, he rubbed his neck and continued. “My second marriage was a disaster from the get-go. Tina and I, we got married . . . I don’t know, a year or so after my first marriage ended. To this day, I couldn’t tell you why.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We didn’t get along at all. About the only thing we did right was fuck, and even that . . .” He shrugged tightly. “Like I said, I’m gay. There’s only so much I can fake, you know?”

  I nodded. “What about your first marriage?”

  “The first . . .” He released a long breath. “If I take one regret to my grave, it’ll be my first marriage.”

  “You didn’t get along with her either?”

  “Quite the opposite,” he said, almost whispering. “Mary Ann and I were close friends for a long time. Since middle school. She kind of hinted about wanting to date, and we did go to things like prom and homecoming together, but I never wanted to take it further than that. Which I think she kind of liked too—I didn’t push her for sex like all the guys who did date her. So she kept gravitating back to me.”

  “Even though you weren’t into her?”

  He nodded. “Like I said, I didn’t push her. And I was still figuring out who I was. I had some, you know, thoughts about guys, but didn’t think much of it.” He swallowed. “Then I went to the Academy, and a few months into it, I fooled around with another cadet and started realizing I was definitely gay. But I was terrified of anyone finding out. I’d worked my ass off to get into the Academy, and to graduate almost at the top of my class. If I came out, or if someone outed me, I’d lose all of that. For a while, I flew below the radar as much as I could. But then I almost got caught one night, and decided I was playing with fire, so it was better to get married and kill all the rumors. So . . . Mary Ann and I started dating, and then we got married.”

  “Did she know about you? That you’re gay?”

  “No.” He said it so softly, I almost didn’t hear him. “She had no idea. Close as we were, I was afraid to tell her or anybody else I was gay. In fact, she’d had a crush on me for a long time. People thought we were high school sweethearts, and no one was surprised when we got married, because they all knew we’d end up together. And I mean, I loved her. God, I loved that woman. But I wasn’t in love with her. She was my closest, most trusted friend, and I always felt safe with her.”

  “But not safe enough to come out?”

  Scowling, he shook his head. “By the time I realized what I really was, we had started dating, and I didn’t want to hurt her. Plus I stupidly figured I could make myself straight and be happily married to her. I mean, we were friends, so . . .” He went quiet for a minute, then went on. “She deserved so much better. I did the best I could, and tried to be a good husband, but I wasn’t what she needed any more than she was what I needed. Maybe if we’d been in one place, and I’d had a normal job without all the stress of deployments and combat, we could’ve at least brought it down gently and moved on as friends. But . . .”

  “But that stress takes its toll,” I said quietly. “That’s what happened to my parents too.”

  “Damn, that’s rough.”

  “It is. And that was even without things like DADT.”

  Paul winced. “Yeah. Nobody needed that shit.” He paused. “You know what’s really shitty? When we divorced, I thought the worst part was that I wouldn’t be able to hide being gay anymore. Which . . . I mean, that’s exactly why I can’t blame her for leaving—I was more concerned about me and about my career than I was with her. It was all about my image, my career, my future. She was a trophy wife and a beard.” He closed his eyes again and exhaled. “I hurt her so badly, and it took way, way too long for me to realize the worst thing about the divorce was losing my best friend.”

  “So it didn’t end well?”

  Eyes open but unfocused, Paul nodded. “It was pretty nasty. We saw each other at our high school reunion a few years ago, and managed to be cordial, but . . .” He sighed. “That’s probably as good as it’ll ever be again.”

  “Wow. Sorry to hear it.”

  “Me too.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “At least she found somebody better. She got married around the time my second wife and I were divorcing, and last I heard, they’re perfectly happy together.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yep. I wish them both the best too.” He rubbed his neck and stared up at the ceiling. “They definitely deserve it.”

  Neither of us said anything for a long time. Finally, I cautiously broke the silence. “So are you out now? As gay?”

  Paul nodded again, still looking up. “When DADT was repealed, I stayed closeted at first for political reasons. But then when I realized the younger guys were scared to come out because they expected repercussions from the upper chain of command, I decided I owed it to them to set the example. So, I brought my boyfriend to the Navy Ball and the Christmas party, and that was that. I was out.”

  “That’s pretty admirable. Especially if there were political reasons.”

  He laughed quietly. “Well, I’m pretty sure it kept me a commander for an extra year or two, but there wasn’t as much backlash as I expected.”

  “Wow.” I whistled. “Hard to imagine having to come out as an adult.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “When did you come out?”

  “To my friends, when I was thirteen. Parents, fifteen. It seems kind of stupid now, but I was afraid my parents would kick me out or something.”

  “Stupid?” He shook his head. “Seems like a reasonable thing to be afraid of, given what’s happened to a lot of people.”

  “Yeah, but I knew my parents better than that. When I told them, my dad didn’t even blink.” I laughed, rolling my eyes at the memory. “He said he’d known since I was like six, and I said, ‘Well why didn’t you tell me?’”

  Paul chuckled. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. He said he didn’t tell me because he knows I hate spoilers.”

  Paul blinked. “He . . . seriously?”

  “Yeah. Guess he knows me.”

  “Still. Wow. I can’t even imagine being able to come out like that.”

  “Your family doesn’t know you’re gay?”

  “Oh, they do now. It’s taken a good ten years for my dad to come to grips with it, and my mom still asks me from time to time if I’m sure it’s not just because of my divorces, but I’ve brought a couple of boyfriends home.” He met my gaze. “At the risk of sounding like an old man, we’re from two different generations. I envy yours because there’s so much more support and openness now. When I was a teenager, my God—the AIDS crisis was in full swing, and we had those preachers screaming on TV that it was divine punishment, and . . . believe me when I say things were very, very different.”

  “Back in the olden—”

  “Watch it.” He laughed as he lifted his head to kiss me. “Respect your elders. Or something.”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  We laughed, but then sobered a bit. We both turned onto our sides, facing each other, and I rested my hand on his waist. “Okay, I’m curious about something.”

  Paul held my gaze. “Shoot.”

  “If you knew you couldn’t be out, why did you join the Navy?”

>   He pulled in a long breath. “Well, I was still kind of in denial at that point, but I also had some goals that could only happen through the Navy.”

  “Which were . . .?”

  “I wanted to fly, and I wanted to be an admiral.”

  “Oh. Would you still be flying now if . . . that landing . . .?”

  “No, no. Pilots usually have to hang up their wings when they start getting into the higher ranks. You can’t be a pilot and a CO.” He released a long breath. “My RIO didn’t stay in after the accident. He couldn’t deal with being grounded even after we’d both lost some friends and had enough close calls to be well aware of our own mortality. I made peace with it, though. I mean, I did get to fly. It’s what I wanted. So I hung it up and focused on making admiral.”

  I lifted myself up on my elbow. “So, when you do, what then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, once you make admiral, are you going to retire?”

  Paul shrugged. “Well, I mean, I actually have to serve as an admiral for a few years. And then it’s a matter of whether I want to try for that second star, or retire with one.”

  “What are you going to do after that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like when you retire?”

  His eyes lost focus again, and he released a long breath. “I don’t even know yet. The Navy has been my whole life for so long, it’s hard to imagine what I’ll do after. Maybe work as a DOD contractor or something? I have no idea.”

  “I guess it isn’t like you need to make a decision next week. You’ve got a few years to go.”

  “Yeah. And my retirement pay will be enough that I won’t need to get a job, but I sure as shit better find something to do so I don’t keel over from boredom.”

  I laughed. “You don’t really seem like the type who could sit on the couch and watch TV all day.”

  “Not for long, no.” He paused and sobered a little. “You want to know what I want more than anything after I retire?”

  “Hmm?”

  “A dog.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I haven’t had one since my ex-wife took ours with her, and can’t really justify it because I could still get deployed. But God, I miss having pets. I especially miss having a dog.”