I’m not ready to tell him. I want to say the words, but they aren’t there. Adrenaline courses through me, and I hate how it makes me feel. I want my control back.
Ethan’s staring at me, waiting for me to explain my behavior.
“Are you hungry?” It’s a lame question. I wish I could do better.
His eyes narrow like he’s evaluating. Whatever he’s thinking of, he makes a choice. “I’ll grab my bag, and we can go.” He turns, walking to his backpack lying on the ground a few feet away.
Oh, thank God. He’s letting it go.
He hefts it to his shoulder. “I know it’s the middle of the afternoon, but I’m hungry. Starving, actually. Airplane food.” He wrinkles his nose. “I ate in Philly on my layover, but that was almost six hours ago. I had a Philly cheese steak. It sucked. Don’t you think it should have been better, considering where I was? Maybe ordering one at an airport wasn’t the best idea. And the snacks they handed out on the flight were crap.”
Yes, this is definitely my best friend. Live, in the flesh, and acting like himself. His chatter is infectious. I find myself smiling as I picture him working his way through the bad cheese steak while he waited for his next flight.
“Okay, so no cheese steaks, peanuts, or pretzels. Where would you like to go?”
“You won’t believe this, but I want a burger. A good old drive-thru burger.”
It’s my turn to wrinkle my nose. “That’s gross, but I won’t deny you. Your wish is my command. After all, you do spend your days protecting me.”
As usual, one word of the war, and Ethan withdraws instantly. I shouldn’t have said anything. I know better. But I’m so grateful to him for giving up his civilian life for me…for everybody.
I let his withdrawal pass without comment.
In baggage claim, he grabs his green duffel like it weighs nothing, then nods to the door. “Take me anywhere. Surprise me.”
We reach my car, and there’s that familiar stab of disappointment when I see it. Dad wasn’t even alive when I bought this car, and still I chose something that would’ve made him happy. Even if it didn’t make me happy. I can still hear him expounding the virtues of Hondas. Reliable, safe, trustworthy.
Ethan grins. “Good old Helen the Honda. Gotta love her.”
I give him a side-eye and he laughs.
“Can I drive?” His eyebrows raise with hope.
“No way.”
He gives me a dirty look and tosses his bag in the back seat. My God, those muscles. Since when? I climb into my car and blink a few times, trying to clear my head. This is Ethan. I’m looking at Ethan like he’s a piece of meat. Or a treat. Yes, a treat. A gorgeous, raven-haired, caramel-eyed delectable man. One who can dig his fingers into my skin and run his stubble across my face and—
“Kate, what’s with you?”
I feel the flush in my cheeks. There's no way Ethan will miss it.
“Nothing. Why?”
Ethan’s eyes narrow. “I asked you where we’re going. Twice. And you’re blushing.”
I don’t answer. I just point the car towards downtown Phoenix and drive.
2
Ethan
There is a boy
And he loves a girl
She doesn’t love him back
He doesn’t care
One day she will love him
Until then, he waits.
I was fifteen when I wrote that poem. Scrawled it onto a ripped piece of flimsy, white computer paper. The tape holding the ripped paper to the inside of my desk drawer is just beginning to lose its stickiness. Every time I go home on leave, I open the drawer and make sure it’s still there. Seeing it resets my focus and reminds me that waiting for Kate is a marathon, and the prize will be worth it.
I’m afraid to think it. Even daring to hope might kill the hope altogether. And I’ve loved her for so long.
But her reaction to me… She’s never done that before. Smiles, hugs, happiness when she sees me, that’s all normal. But this time she was breathless, even nervous. Her beautiful brown eyes were dilated.
It’s hard to concentrate on anything right now. I’ve allowed Kate to distract me with the promise of food. It works, a least a little. I’m starving. I’ve been eating like a horse since I started lifting weights. I have my best Army friend to thank for my gym-rat status. Nick Hunter, expert marksman, skilled medic, and bench press extraordinaire. And future Arizona resident. I’ve convinced him that Phoenix is more than tumbleweeds and cactus. He’ll exit the Army and be here in three months. Seven months earlier than me.
Kate’s lucky I love her so much. Otherwise her comment about my driving would have upset me. Yeah, I have a few black marks on my record. But that was a long time ago. I was still a boy back when I did dumb stuff like drive into Kate’s front yard. I’m a man now.
Army strong.
Four years of my life, dedicated to the safety and protection of this great nation and its people. I’m seventy-five percent of the way through my time. Just this one last deployment, and then I’m done. Forever. And if I get my way, I’ll spend the rest of my life with my Katie girl.
She’s driving now, so I take the opportunity to watch her navigate her car onto the freeway. Long brown hair, shining as the sun streaks into her car. Full, rosy cheeks. Straight nose. Plump, pink lips. No lipstick on those lips. That’s just her natural lip color. And that red tank top… I love her in red.
I don’t have to look at her to know all those details. Every inch of her exquisite face is seared into my memory.
I’ve loved her forever. I’ll never stop. And the way she touched me at the airport. The way she stared into my eyes. A thrill runs through me. I feel like an idiot, a lovesick fool. Yep, I’m definitely both those things.
It’s hard, but I tear my eyes away from her and look out across my hometown. Sprawling Phoenix, suburbia as far as the eye can see. Mountains shoot up randomly through the city, houses built around them and on them. Palm trees sway, the never ending sunshine permeates the window and warms my chest. I couldn’t have asked for a better season to visit. Avoiding summer here was crucial. It’s bad enough that where I’m going next will be a hot desert made hotter by my uniform and gear. Dealing with a Phoenix summer on my R&R and then being deployed to the Middle East would have been a double whammy.
I stare at the mountain on our right. It’s big, but the mountains of Afghanistan are bigger. None of them resemble a camel lying down, though.
“Camelback hasn’t moved.” Kate’s voice is close to me as she turns in her seat and motions out my window.
Bump bump bump. My teeth clatter as Kate’s car drifts over the lines. And I’m the questionable driver?
“Pay attention to the road, Kate. I’d prefer not to die in your car.” I love teasing her. Someone needs to, to keep her from being so serious. Her little brother’s not around to do it.
Kate’s hands go back to the wheel at exactly ten and two. Her body is at attention, but it’s too stiff.
The excitement starts up, but I squash it.
It’s not Kate’s fault. She won’t do anything unless it has been well thought out. If list-writing were an Olympic event, Kate would be a gold medalist. The girl has drawn up a t-chart before deciding to date someone. I watched her do it, and it should have discouraged me.
I will not hope. I know Kate too well. She won’t risk our friendship, even for love.
But that greeting. It wasn’t just nothing. She’s different. I want to blurt out how uneasy I feel, to make Kate tell me what the hell is going on here.
I’m half a second from hitting my breaking point and demanding answers when Kate pulls into the only empty spot in front of a brick house.
“Let’s go, hungry man.”
I peer out at the house. The sign on the white wooden front door makes me pause. Kate’s outdone herself this time.
We climb from the car. “Really?” I ask.
Her sigh is loud. “Whiners eat outside.”
“I gathered that from the sign.” I eye the big block letters written on a piece of poster board.
She pushes past me and bounds up the three stairs, impatient as always. Sometimes it’s annoying, but I secretly like that about her. Kate knows how to get stuff done.
She turns back to me. Her legs are tanned and toned in those white shorts. And that red tank top… Damn. She’s poised at the top of the stairs, watching me.
“Hungry here.” I try to look exasperated, but mostly I’m embarrassed because she’s just caught me admiring her body. I’m usually much stealthier than that. Must be all the time we’ve spent apart. I’ll have to hone my skills while I’m here.
From where she’s standing at the top of the stairs, she’s only a little bit taller than I. And she’s smirking. She’s being playful.
No, she’s not.
Holy shit.
She’s flirting. Kate Masters is flirting with me.
I watch the spark fade from her eyes. Practical, rule following Kate has taken over. Whatever’s going on inside her, she has control over it again.
Disappointed, I watch her turn and grab the door handle.
“Come on, if you’re so starving. And seriously, don’t whine. Because I refuse to eat in the sun.”
I follow her into the brick house, halted immediately by the line that reaches back to where we’ve just entered.
Long picnic tables fill what I assume used to be the living room. Little wooden tables dot the room to our right. The walls are stuffed with memorabilia and newspaper articles from Arizona sports teams. I’m about to go to Afghanistan for ten months. I really don’t want to eat crappy food while I’m here. I should’ve asked Kate to take me back to her place and cook for me. I’ve been craving her chicken noodle soup.
I lean into Kate. “Are you sure about this place?” My voice is low. I doubt they’re serious about that whining stuff, but you never know.
“Well”—Kate cocks her head to the side—” I heard from a friend of a friend that this place is decent. And it finally passed its last health inspection, so we’re in the clear there!” She wipes her brow, ramping up the drama.
I look down at her, my eyes narrowed. A mistake.
The citrus and vanilla scent of her perfume rises off her skin, swirling into my nose and making her joke a distant memory.
Her freckles captivate me. They run across the bridge of her nose and fall off either side, steadily decreasing until they fade out completely. She thinks they’re a flaw, but she’s wrong. Those freckles are a beacon of hope.
Somewhere in there, childhood Kate still exists. The Kate who lay in the grass, devouring books and writing her own stories. That was before she believed being Master of Everything was the only way to make her dad proud. Her freckles are more than just a facial feature. And they’re incredibly cute.
The longer I stare at her, the more I lose my grasp on reality. Kate doesn’t put any distance between us like she normally would.
I want her.
Her face grows soft. Below her chin, her chest rises and falls, faster and faster. I’m not breathing at all.
We stand like that for what feels like a full minute, communicating without speaking. It’s something only couples who’ve been together for a long time can achieve.
But we have been a twosome for a long time. I know her on the most basic, barest level. I can pick out her mood just by looking into her eyes. Her favorite color is green, even though she tells everyone it’s pink. The tiny scar above her left eyebrow is a remnant from the night of our thirteenth birthday when she snuck out of her parents’ house. I cleaned her wound by the light of a street lamp. My Katie girl.
A throat clearing and shuffle of feet behind us breaks into our starry-eyed gazing. I look back and meet the eyes of an old man. He smiles apologetically and points in front of us.
I look and see there’s enough space for three people to stand between us and the next person in line.
“Oops,” Kate murmurs, her face sheepish. “I’m sorry.” She says to the man. “We weren’t paying attention.” She hurries forward to close the space.
That’s my Kate. Never one to step out of line.
I nod my apology to the man and follow her. Her pupils are dilated, and her cheeks are a shade of pink I've only ever seen on her face. Her gaze looks away, flicks back to me, and looks away again.
There's a tap on my shoulder. It's the old man again. He's smiling kindly, hand outstretched.
“Thank you for your service, young man. You’re a blessing to this great nation.”
My throat tightens. I didn't join the Army to receive recognition. I wanted to serve my country and protect my loved ones. And to make Dad proud.
The old man keeps smiling while these thoughts fly through my head. I shake his hand and thank him for his kind words.
We're up next, and Kate squeezes my arm as she orders for herself and me.
“No fries, please.” Kate adds at the end, puffing out her cheeks at me. I roll my eyes.
“How do you know what I want?” I ask.
Her gaze pierces me, travels right down into my soul and shakes it.
“I know you by heart.” Her voice is soft.
On quick feet she walks away to find a table, while I wait for our order and try to understand what just happened.
I know you by heart, too, Kate. And something is happening inside you. Kate doesn’t say things like that. She's careful with her words. Especially when it comes to me. She knows I love her. She’s known it for ten years, and she’s done everything she can think to do not to lead me on.
I haven’t been led on. Not once. I’m the one leading this mission. The mission to win Kate’s heart. And I think I’m close to the end.
She’s been fighting against the idea of us for a long time. Whatever is happening inside her must be terrifying her. As much as every fiber of my being is screaming to push through her barrier, I give her a break, because she needs it.
I pick up our order and take it to the table she has chosen. The food is a good distraction. The taste of grease, ketchup, pickles, fried potatoes, it sends my eyes upward with my first bite. “Mmmm… This is exactly what I’ve been missing. Well, this and you, of course.”
Kate laughs and takes a bite of her own lettuce wrapped burger.
I swallow and clear my throat. Kate isn’t going to like what I have to tell her, but it's better to get it out of the way early. “I told Trent we would see him tomorrow.” My words come out on top of each other, making it sound like one long word.
Kate stops chewing and stares at me. She absolutely hates Trent. And the feeling is mutual.
To be fair, I see her point about him. He’s rude and narcissistic. He also happens to be my college roommate and a hell of a lot of fun. I don’t spend much time with him when I come home, because they despise each other.
“Kate, he’s my friend. Just come with me. I’m only going to see him once while I’m here.”
Kate folds her arms in front of her. She’s pissed. “I can’t figure out why he’s still your friend. You two are polar opposites.” She snatches a fry out of my basket. Her nostrils flare. A sure sign her temper is beginning to boil. Few people know that perfect, people-pleasing Kate Masters has a temper, and I just happen to be one of them.
“So are you and Harper,” I say calmly. It’s a safe comparison. And it’s one hundred percent true.
Kate’s roommate and closest friend —aside from me— is outgoing and loves attention. She and Kate are nothing alike.
“Harper’s my roommate. Not an old friend I hang onto for reasons that escape everyone besides me.”
“Messy. Disorganized. Spontaneous.”
Kate's lip curls. “What are you doing?”
“Naming some of Harper's characteristics that make you opposites.”
Kate groans.
She's accepting defeat. I actually won.
She takes another fry from me. “Please tell me Zane will be there.
I need a buffer.”
Zane Smith. My other childhood friend. The guy who offered his silent support of all my unrequited feelings for Kate over the years. I know she wishes Zane would have gone to ASU with us, instead of heading down to Tucson to attend U of A. In Kate’s eyes, there would be no Trent if Zane hadn’t stepped off the path we were all on.
“I invited him. He’s busy, but he said he’d make time.” The poor guy sounded stressed when I talked to him a few days ago. He’s in his second year of law school. Sometimes I forget how smart Zane is. His brawn, paired with his quiet nature, mask his intelligence.
Kate looks relieved. She bites into her lettuce-burger thing and glances out the large front window. A flush fills her cheeks, and I have no idea why. Usually I know what she’s feeling, but right now, it’s like there’s another person inside my best friend, doing things and feeling things I’m not able to see.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she mumbles, and shoves in another bite of food.
I know what she’s doing. Except it doesn’t work with me. I don’t care if she talks with a full bite of food.
“Katie girl…” I sing her nickname. It’s the name only I’m allowed to use. She goes by Kate, because it sounds strong and grown up. According to her, anyway. I still like Katie, and I’d call her that even if she didn’t want me to. Probably.
She swallows and smiles just a little too sweetly at me. “It’s nothing. So, I talked to my mom yesterday. She told me your mom’s so excited to see you she’s practically coming out of her skin.”
Once again, I know what she’s doing. And, once again, I’ll let her slide. Because that’s what I always do.
I start telling her about last week when I talked to my mom, and Kate looks so relieved I almost feel bad for her. If I were a betting man, I’d wager there's a battle raging inside Kate right now. And if I were a hopeless, stupid romantic, which I must be, considering I’ve loved her for this long, I’d say this battle is about me.
The Day He Went Away Page 2