Keeping It: A Navy SEAL meets Virgin Romance

by Rachel Robinson

  “I think you have the wrong idea about me,” she replies to the men, looking them in the face one at a time. Sliding into her flip flops she says, “Tyler is just my friend.” A bead of sweat breaks out on the side of my face and slides down to my chin when she turns to look at me. “Right?” One brow is raised, daring me to say anything different.

  “Sure. Just friends,” Aidan answers, chuckling under his breath extending each word in obvious sarcasm. “Whatever you say.”

  These men are like me. Or most of them anyways. We’re here because we don’t have attachments in the way of wives and long term girlfriends rooted in San Diego. By proxy that makes us the players, the flirts, the men who don’t settle down or get serious. We’re good at this. My friends think I’ve had a piece of Caroline and now I’m willing to share the wealth. They will continue to think that until I tell them otherwise. Until I show them.

  I wrap an arm around Caroline, and can feel the anger leaking from her pores. She’s seething, once in the past she called it, spitting mad. “It’s not whatever I say, it’s the truth,” Caroline hisses, pointing one finger at the group. Their lazy smiles vanish when they realize she’s not of our normal variety. “I am sincerely offended you think I’m sleeping with Tyler. Or doing anything with him, actually. I’m not. I won’t. We are just friends.” I won’t. I won’t. I won’t. Nothing else registers as truth except those two words. “Business partners,” she adds to drive her point home. “Insinuating anything else is purely bad form.”

  That’s when the ocean stops beating against the docks, and the gulls stop crying, and my oxygen fizzles into something that isn’t conducive inside a human body. Their faces say everything I’m not. I don’t have to. Until she tells me to. “Tell them, Tyler.” She uses my given name instead of my nickname and I think about how long it took for her to get comfortable enough to drop the legal name. Glancing at her, I see her red cheeks, and the tears of betrayal pooling in her eyes.

  There’s no way to salvage this, and at the very least I’m staking my claim. “She’s my friend,” I say, emphasizing the middle word through tight lips. They mutter their understanding, and confusion under their breath. “Mine. Got it?” I say again, meeting their eyes one by one.

  Uncomfortable silence descends and with their heads down and their tails tucked, my brothers depart for the office. Caroline slaps her driver’s license against her palm as she shrugs out of my grasp. “Such gentlemen. My word, I’ve never in my life been so thoroughly embarrassed.” Her shoulder is warm under my palm as we walk to the parking lot. I don’t bother replying to anything she’s saying. I’m too busy wondering how long it’s going to take for the guys to tell the entire troop that I’m hanging out with a chick I’m not banging and what that means for my cred.

  We depart, her bicycle in the bed of my truck, Caroline sitting next to me stammering on about their rudeness. My stomach does this dance—the salsa of death and nerves. Unknowingly, she’s exposed me in a raw, jagged way. I don’t have too long to deal with that feeling because she connects the dots quicker than I thought she would.

  “Did you tell them we were sleeping together? Is that why they said that?” She licks her lips, as her gaze dances over the side of my face. We’re almost to the dusty turn in for Bobby’s Bar, and I keep my eyes focused on the prize.

  “If I did?” I throw my hand down on the turn signal and let off the gas pedal. No one is behind me, in fact only two cars drove by going the opposite direction during our short jaunt. “What if I did, Caroline?” I ask, while pulling into an empty gravel parking space marked only by a lime colored post.

  She sniffles and looks out the window. “Then I made the right decision being finished with you after tonight. After all of my obligations are fulfilled.”

  I tsk. “You’ll be seeing me every Friday, remember?” I correct.

  Caroline shakes her head, blonde waves moving over her bare shoulder. “That’s business. Why would you lie to them? I don’t understand.” When she shifts on the worn-out cloth and meets my eye, I almost cave. I almost tell her the testosterone filled truth.

  I lie instead. Mostly to preserve the integrity of our night and hopefully salvage my dignity. “I didn’t tell them anything. It’s guys being guys and they were telling you the truth about my sexual history.” If she knows one thing, she should know what kind of sexual monster I am. I’m not afraid of scaring her off at this point. I’m afraid of not having her.

  Blushing, she turns away. “You’ve never had a real girlfriend?” A topic we’ve never broached before. Blessedly, it’s not about the guys anymore. I have had a girlfriend. Once. It’s why I’ve never had another one again. The burning inside my chest and the wound she left when things ended, made a gaping, black hole that proved how much power I gave her without realizing it.

  I take a deep breath. “Are you offering?” I return, sliding my palm across the truck seat to cover her hand.

  Chapter Five

  Tahoe

  Caroline rears back, pulling her hand away from mine like I’ve burned her. “What is with you guys? Is everything an invitation to be lewd and rude? Let’s just go inside and get a drink so I can go home. My slippers and Netflix are calling, and they’re a million times more polite than my current company,” she sasses.

  Throwing my head back I examine the loose layer of fabric hanging from the ceiling. It smells like mothballs and I almost didn’t buy this truck because of it. I make a loud gurgling noise. “Are you done killing me yet?” I moan, clutching my neck with one hand. “You have to at least attempt to have a date with me. That means you have to like me.”

  “Pretend to like you, you mean,” she spits back, folding her arms under her glorious tits. I check my line of vision back to her face.

  Resting my arms on my steering wheel, I put my head against them. “Are we back to this again? You like me, Caroline.”

  “I do not,” she quips, tilting her chin up.

  Frowning, I add, “And I like you too.” I want to tell her how hot I think she is when she’s arguing with me. How I’d love nothing more than to rip off her clothes and fuck her in the cab of this old ass truck—until her ass cheeks smell like my Grandma’s old sweater closet. “More than like I’d fathom a guess,” I add, when I become aware she’s waiting for me to say more.

  That gets her attention, her posture lightens and the lines between her eyes relax. “I’ve heard enough lies for today, I think. How about that beer?” Her words don’t match the expression on her face.

  I sigh. “Look. No one is even here yet. Let’s allow the town drunk to get going before we go in there. I’m not lying to you. I do like you. Maybe you don’t like me, but you’re attracted to me, and that’s enough to stroke my ego enough to live another day. What do you say? Truce for the night? Not even the night. Just this one date. Technically, you did promise.”

  Caroline sighs, a heavy emotional heave that tells me she’s done with me and this conversation. “That’s a lofty assumption. One that stinks of a serious ego problem. You don’t have to pretend to like me, Tyler. I was perfectly fine before you arrived and I’ll be just as fine when you leave.” What if I don’t want to leave? The thought comes to mind quickly, like a bolt of lightning striking, the thunder following is me realizing exactly what that means. I’ve found something I want. Strike. Boom. Blast. Silence. I need to find a way to make Caroline mine.

  “Bronze Bay has its finer points. Don’t count on my leaving anytime soon,” I say. “I’m sorry my friends were…rude.” The apology tastes like chalk, but I know it’s necessary.

  She relaxes a little. I knew manners went a long way in this small, southern town, but now I’m thinking I can yes ma’am this woman until she lands on my dick.

  Caroline faces me, bending one leg under her body. “You never answered my question about having a girlfriend. You deflected, like you always do when you don’t want to talk about something.” She meets my eye when she asks, and I realize how rare that is. Sh
e talks around me, never really engaging me directly. She’s trusting me to give her honesty, trusting me enough to let me know my answer matters.

  I smirk. “No harm in the truth if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I suppose.”

  “You don’t want me as a girlfriend,” Caroline says, shaking her head, eyes narrowed in skepticism. She fires off a statement that basically says she won’t believe me if I do tell her I’ve had a girlfriend because even if my friends are crude, they had no reason to lie about my promiscuity.

  I shrug. “It’s true, I did have a girlfriend, Stella, for three years. It ended badly. So, technically they didn’t lie, they just didn’t tell you why I am the way I am.”

  I implore her not to ask any questions about the relationship. She’s thinking about it. “Why do you want to hang out with me, then?” Caroline asks, gesturing to herself. “You throw the girlfriend word around so casually you have to be joking.”

  I swallow, and I taste the battery acid from the breakup with Stella, the panic when I realized the pain wouldn’t go away, ever. Even now that she’s married and pregnant by some investment banker in N.Y.C. “I haven’t spent so much time with a woman since then,” I admit. “Pretty sure you already qualify as my girlfriend regardless of if I want that or not.”

  “Why are you so,” she replies, closing her mouth, “so hot and cold? There are so many other girls in Bronze Bay that can give you what you want. I’ve given you the airport you needed. You’ve helped me with my place. I’m not…that kind of girl.”

  “I know.” Scooting closer, I take her hand in mine. “That’s your draw.”

  I watch her neck as she swallows hard. “It’s not smart to mix business with anything other than numbers.” What about sixty-nine, Caroline?

  I shake my head. “Those rules don’t apply to me. No rules apply to me. I’m quite fierce when I’m pursuing something I want.” I lean in closer. There is a small smattering of freckles across her nose you can’t see unless you’re in kissing distance. Her blue eyes, on mine, reflect a mixture of fear and wanton desire. “I want you.” I skim my hand up her arm and across her exposed collar bone. A trace of goosebumps rise behind the trail of my fingers. “Say the word and the g-word is yours for the taking.” I haven’t felt an adrenaline rush this strong, and state altering since the last time I almost lost my life. I have a scar to prove it, a long narrow grazing mark tearing across my ribcage. The internal scars from Stella are worse than anything a bullet could produce and here I am giving Caroline the power to kill me without even knowing why I am doing it. A taste of her is worth a lifetime of torture. That’s the rational I’ll embrace—the only logical reason I’d give someone this power again, and she really is different. There’s no pretenses, and I’m pretty sure she hates me as much as she likes me and that’s a dose of “fuck you” I’ve needed for a while.

  I’m lost in the moment, in my asinine proposition, and the wonder in how she’ll reply. I don’t see the cock-blocking intruder coming. Someone raps on the passenger side window, tearing us out of the breathless moment.

  Caroline spins, recognizes the face, and cranks the handle to roll down the window. “Malena you scared the rice, beans, and pepper out of me!” she exclaims, one hand on her chest. A pretty brunette, all teeth, and high glossed lips leans around Caroline to peer at me. I don’t react with a smile or otherwise. To be quite honest I’m furious. “How have you been?” Caroline croons, seeming pleased her friend has saved her from answering my question.

  “I thought that was you, Caroline. I was gonna’ ask what you were doing out here, but now it’s clearly obvious. I’m Malena,” her friend says, trying to get me to respond. I don’t miss how her eyes rake over my body and face. “You two coming in?”

  Why else would we be here? “Tahoe, this is my friend Malena. We went to school together,” Caroline says, turning to me without meeting my questioning gaze. “Malena this is my friend Tahoe. He, ah, he’s working with me now. At the airport. They’ll be using one of the hangars and airspace for their training.” That’s all she says, and I want to shake her, then kiss her, then stake my claim on her. Airports have nothing on my dick.

  “Nice to meet you, Ta-hoe,” Malena drawls, looking at me. “I know of his kind, Caroline. No need to say anything further. Any of your friends joining us tonight?” She winks, like a damn poker shark.

  I grin, tip my head in greeting and reply, “I’ll send them your way if they do.” More and more cars and trucks and bicycles pour into the small parking lot.

  Caroline notices. “Something going on here tonight?”

  Malena clicks her tongue. “Don’t you know? It’s Britt and Whit’s engagement party!”

  Caroline falters, but catches herself quickly. “Of course. Of course. Why didn’t they have it down at St. Ives? It’s so much nicer than here.”

  Malena shrugs. “You know how Whit loves his drink. I’m sure they gave him a deal for the night.” Caroline nods. She then asks about her family, as politeness dictates, and then promises to catch up inside. She rolls up the window, cranking hard at the end because it’s a piece of shit that barely closes, and sighs.

  “I take it this isn’t good news? Come on, it’s a party! Think of how much fun this could be.” I tug on her hand, a stupid, goofy smile on my face. “Let’s go wish Britt and Whit the best of luck!” I say it in the most sarcastic voice as I can manage.

  Caroline rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “They are the town stereotypes. Well, I guess they used to be. Now it’s just kind of pathetic.”

  “Caroline May are you talking bad about people?” I croon. “Tell me more.” My tone is still joking, but a little part of me wants to know merely because something is bothering her. I’ve yet to see her annoyed with anyone except me.

  “Shut-up, Tahoe. You seriously want to know?”

  I nod, and steel myself for trivial drama I’m sure to forget in five minutes. “Okay, well he was the quarterback at my high school and obviously, she was a cheerleader. They were together all four years of high school. They broke up a couple of times, but everyone always knew they would get back together so girls wouldn’t date Whit because they were afraid of Britt’s wrath and all the popular jocks steered clear of Britt, because, well, Whit probably would have killed them had they touched her. You get it? They were meant to be. Written in the stars. In true fashion, Whit cheated on her with most of the popular girls from the town over and Britt cheated on him. She’d banged the whole band by Senior year. The percussion section twice.”

  I laugh at the imagery that creates. “Wow. I have a feeling that’s not the worst part?”

  She shakes her head and licks her lips. She’s getting to the juicy part. “Whit wanted to break up for good after prom. It was because he wanted to go to college and be single. I think he had scholarship offers, but Britt went crazy when he mentioned it. She took a whole bottle of headache reliever and wrote a note professing her undying love. She ended up at the hospital getting her stomach pumped.”

  I raise my brows. “They’ve been together ever since?” It’s a foregone conclusion. People attach themselves to those they think they deserve—to the comfortable agony of false truths.

  She nods. “Insane, right?” Caroline’s eyes are wide as she nods her head. “They deserve each other, but I still can’t believe they’re getting married.” She says the word married like a spoken reverie and I know her stance on the subject without asking.

  “I can’t believe they haven’t gotten married yet. Idiots like that usually do stupid stuff sooner. They don’t make people wait to show their true colors.” I proclaim. “Ready to go in?”

  “Marriage is not idiotic,” Caroline hisses. “It’s romantic and sweet and it’s one of the only things that’s the same as it was way back when. It hasn’t changed.” I knew it. Unsurprising, but a conversation I’d avoid having with another living human like the plague.

  The word spoken aloud makes my heart race. Perhaps it’s because I’ve never
considered marriage before, or maybe because it’s something so permanent in my world of impermanence. The divorce rate among the Teams is nothing to shake a stick at either. Last time someone spouted off that as a reason for staying away from it, it was over 75%. Those are about the same as BUD/s drop out odds. Even with Stella, after years of dating, I wasn’t ready to take the plunge and I thought she was my forever. I’ve lived a wild life full of change and variables. A constant never appealed to me. “It’s an old-fashioned way to tie a ball and chain around balls. Just think, back in the day you wouldn’t be flying your airplanes or twisting a wrench. You’d be pregnant in the kitchen resenting the very institution you deem so worthy.”

  She crinkles her forehead and purses her lips. “I’d never resent love. The real kind that makes you want to do things like be pregnant in a kitchen. Lucky for me I can also turn a wrench and fly a plane as well. Marriage is love and I have to believe in that. If I don’t what else is there?”

  The determination in which she makes this proclamation shakes me to my core—makes me want to believe in something just as fiercely. Something more than life, death, breathing or not, good or bad. I can’t help it. I let my guard slip and I envision what Caroline wants. It’s not Stella who I picture in my life, wearing my ring, either. I swallow hard, noticing how her eyes are dancing over my face. “Okay,” I state simply.

  A megawatt grin splits across her face. “Okay? That easy, huh? You don’t want to argue.”

  I can’t help but smile back. “Or you’re right. I’m the first to admit when I’m not an expert on a certain subject. Given our current subject matter, I’m definitely not. You could be right.”