Hero Hair (The Real SEAL Series Book 2)

by Rachel Robinson

  Peace,

  Teala too Smart to waste any more time on you.

  My hands are sweaty and I have to wipe them down my suit pants to get the slickness away. Who is he? Who made her realize? I grit my teeth and open the last message.

  Subject: You are a cruel man

  Not that I thought you would deign to respond to my lowly emails, but at least write back and tell me you got them. Are you dead? Or alive and cruel? I’m not sure which fate I prefer. Carina tells me I’ll have to see you at her wedding. I’m not sure if I want to go. If it’s worth the heartache I’m sure will arrive at the sight of your fucking dimples. You aren’t mine anymore. And that fact hurts more than admitting I’m not yours either. Do us both a favor and don’t show up. We know it would only end in a pity fuck. I don’t need that kind of bad karma in my life. Charlotte says there’s a special place in hell for men like you and for once I believe something she says.

  Teala

  I write out at least ten responses but end up deleting them. Which email would I reply to? I have the thought to reply to the first one and pretend I didn’t get the other two. Yes. It’s the only logical plan.

  Teala,

  I haven’t been checking my personal email while I’ve been working. Please forgive me. I’m glad you are feeling better. Do you want to get together when I arrive home? Coffee? Smith and Carina are getting married as I’m sure you well know. Perhaps I could accompany you to the wedding? I should be back in San Diego for a bit. I’ve been extremely busy, but you’re always on my mind.

  Love,

  Macs

  Sweat beads on my forehead as I hit send.

  “Dude, are you defusing a bomb?” Tahoe asks from the seat beside me.

  My thumb taps the button to darken my screen.

  I swallow hard. How to explain that emailing Teala causes my nerves to fray, and conducting a national level, dangerous mission leaves me cool and collected? “Checking mail,” I say with a shrug, turning my focus out the window. Cruisers are speeding down the street, their lights flashing in harried dismay.

  “Trying to patch things up now that we’re heading back?” he asks.

  It would make sense. I think it’s what he does now that the dating apps are null and void. He makes nice with one of the women from his past to make sure he has sex lined up for his free time.

  I shake my head. “That’s over. You know that.”

  Tahoe laughs. “I’ve seen enough of this shit over the years to know when it’s over. You haven’t bagged any chicks since her, have you?”

  I don’t know anything about his history with any types of relationships. He’s so secretive. I wish I had that type of superpower. There are whispers Tahoe got his heart crushed and that’s what turned him into this monster.

  I shrug again. “Trust me, it’s over.” Even if it wasn’t her last emails made it perfectly clear what her opinion on the matter is. “I can’t deal with that. Wouldn’t you agree I have enough to worry about?”

  Tahoe knows what happened. After I spoke with my parents about Teala’s condition, I told him. Or better yet, he coaxed it out of me when we were drinking too much beer one night. I chance a glance his way.

  He’s smiling at me like a fucking bastard. “This job is a no-brainer for you, you pretty asshole. That woman? A challenge that was too much to handle. You bit off more than you could chew.”

  I narrow my brows. “Are you telling me I failed?”

  His laughter is loud, his head thrown back. “I would never tell you that. You might kill me,” he says, eyes twinkling. “I’m saying she hurt you.”

  “Fuck you,” I reply.

  “Fuck you very much,” Tahoe sings, still laughing. Then he goes on to explain how Teala is sort of his hero for doing what he couldn’t. Fucking asshole.

  He’s one hundred percent right.

  Teala doesn’t reply to my email until later that night. I’m getting used to being in my house again. It feels more like a hotel than an actual hotel feels. My television is on, the news playing low in the background when my laptop pings a new message. I starred her email address as VIP so I wouldn’t have a gut-wrenching repeat occurrence.

  Subject: Weddings and lies

  Macs,

  It’s unfortunate you weren’t checking your email. I saw they arrested people in NYC a couple days ago. I’m assuming a way to go is in order. I’m keeping busy with the usual, trying to get acclimated to life after the attacks. It’s taken me a while to feel this normal and I’m afraid that any small shift will create a toppling of emotions and more life destruction. It’s hard to believe how much was stolen from so many people, you know? I feel lucky when I think about it that way. My family and friends are okay. I’m scared a lot of the time still, but fear is just background noise instead of the headliner. Walking down the street I can forget, even for just a moment or two, that anything happened at all. Honestly, you remind me of too much bad, Macs. Falling in love turned into something villainous. Like a virus taking over my body, it stole so much away. It’s not your fault, but in the same token, there’s nothing you can do about it. I should have guarded my heart better. It was foolish for me to think it could have been a normal relationship. You didn’t respond to my emails, and those months gave me something you never could—not while my mind was twisted with love, anyways. Perspective. And mine is better without you in it. Stay safe, you fucking hero.

  Best,

  Teala

  P.S. I’ll see you at the wedding.

  I don’t mean to break my laptop. It finds its way to the floor on its own. I pace the room, focusing on random things as I go. The bright white molding. The handle on the glass doors. The clock ticking on the fucking wall, the television reporting on the same bullshit that’s been on forever now, the coffee table. Avoidance. I can’t think about her words and what they mean. It’s one thing for her to break up our relationship when she wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s quite another to make a level-headed decision and still conclude we’re not good together. The kicker is I can’t fault her. She wrapped up her well-being around being away from me.

  I want her happiness even if it means my destruction. I kick the laptop on a pace back toward my front door and curse loudly, pulling on the tips of my hair. I open a beer and drain it quickly. It doesn’t erase anything, so I drink another. Then another. When Tahoe shows up with several of his friends, I open the door widely and let them pass into my space. I don’t even question it like I usually would.

  Teala made the decision for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Teala

  “Deep breaths, Teala. Everything is going to be okay,” Dr. Rhodes whispers, leaning over.

  I’d take his hand in mine for comfort, but he says it’s not appropriate to have any physical contact, so I focus on my breathing and keep my face turned toward the large tree. I chose this chair specifically because it was so near the front of the flower altar, there was less chance he would sit in front of me and force me to look at him. Avoiding him completely is out of the question, but Dr. Rhodes even agreed limiting contact with Macs would probably be best.

  It’s a small wedding, only several white folding chairs on each side of the aisle and a podium covered by flowers for the officiant. I know the wedding will be quick, too. Carina and Smith decided to surprise everyone and hold it in Balboa Park last minute. After the success of Carina’s novel and consecutive movie deal for Never Forever, there was a frenzy over their real life relationship and reconnection. A wedding that is fast and dirty and unpermitted was how they were doing it.

  I can’t help the pang of jealousy that creeps in when I think of how happy my friend is. Their love seems so effortless even if I know for a fact it was also traumatic. What love is easy these days? I asked Dr. Rhodes to come to this thing with me because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t self destruct. Macs probably has a date here as does most everyone else, including Charlotte. Dr. Rhodes comments on my friends, some funny anecdote that makes me f
orget why I’m nervous to begin with. He makes me laugh. He’s safe.

  My hair has finally grown out. It brushes my shoulders and is one length instead of fifty. I’m sleeping again, in part because I started taking the medicine prescribed to me, and because I started to become…happy. With the support of my mom and without any vices. When you’re messed up to begin with relationships are a bad idea. My subconscious knew that even if I didn’t. Add in the terror attacks, falling in love, and losing Macs to the unknown, and it was a recipe of disaster formulated just for me. What luck?

  The wedding ceremony makes me cry and I’m a blubbering mess as it concludes. Carina and Smith are this picture of stunning love simplified and magnified at the same time. She hugs me tightly in greeting as they make their rounds. There are already people bustling around, folding the chairs and putting them away.

  Carina pulls back to look at me and says, “I’m so happy.” Her words are watered down now, too. How can you choose the proper words at a time when mere words aren’t enough?

  I nod and sniffle. “I want to be happy,” I whisper in reply.

  “Then be it,” she says. Carina nods hello to Dr. Rhodes and finds Smith standing next to his friends. She links her arm through his and leans her head to rest on his shoulder.

  I know Macs is over there just from the sheer size of the men in the group.

  I turn back to my date. “Everyone is heading to the restaurant for dinner. I think I would rather go home,” I explain.

  “Would or should?” he asks.

  I smile. “I’m not paying you right now. You’re my friend! Don’t ask me vague introspective questions.”

  He laughs, and his eyes crinkle in the corner. The sight makes me smile. I’m finally okay. This is okay. Even if I have to see Macs, I’ll live.

  A male clears their throat behind me. I read it on Dr. Rhodes face. He knows who it is. His smile fades, but it doesn’t vanish completely. His eyes narrow as he studies Macs. Perhaps he’s finally sticking every story I’ve ever told him to the person it belongs with. It’s fun to watch, but I know what I need to do.

  “Teala,” Macs says.

  My name is all it takes for my body to respond. Every hair on my skin stands on end, and flutters invade my stomach—like little storm troopers readying for a battle no one wins.

  I smile at the Dr., give him a wink to let him know I can handle this without hysterics, and spin to face Macs. His smile doesn’t mirror mine. Not even close. “Well, if it isn’t Macallister Newstead? How are you? It’s been so long,” I exclaim, keeping my posture relaxed and my smile wide.

  His neck works as he swallows and his eyes flick the side. “Oh, I’m so rude. This is…” my voice waivers. Do I admit I brought my shrink as my date? How crazy would that look?

  Dr. Rhodes strides forward and extends his hand toward Macs. “I’m Salvatore,” Dr. Rhodes says, saving me from any and all embarrassment. “It’s so good to meet you.”

  I knew his first name by proxy of the bills I finally looked at, but I have never referred to him that casually. I owe this man a lot. Macs grabs his hand, and they shake, Macs eyeing him up and down more than once.

  “Nice to meet you,” Macs replies as they’re separating. “I’m Macs,” he adds as an afterthought.

  “Teala, I’ll go get the car, okay?” Salvatore says, smiling.

  He doesn’t shrink away from the massive bulk of Macs even though he’s probably half his size. Confidence comes in all shapes, I muse. Nodding, I mouth a quick thank you out of sight of everyone else. I watch as Dr. Rhodes runs up the grassy hill toward the parking lot. A light breeze picks up my hair as I turn to face him.

  “New boyfriend?” Macs asks.

  I shrug. “Someone I talk to from time to time,” I reply, twisting my hands in front of me. “You look good.”

  The excuse I’ve needed to let my gaze flick from his from head to toe. He’s dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and dark navy dress slacks. He’s so handsome he makes my mouth water. I wish I could take a photo so I could look at him longer than is socially acceptable in person.

  Macs shoves his hands in his pockets and looks to the left. “Thanks,” he mutters. He looks tired, his face a little more weathered than the last time I saw him. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

  “I don’t like this,” I reply.

  He quirks an eyebrow. “What? The space between us or the small talk?”

  I shake my head, smiling. “You never should have come over that day. Do you know how many times I’ve gone over that scenario? If you’d stayed away for longer and I had time to heal first? What if right now was the first time you saw me again? I wish I could erase that day and the things I said. I couldn’t see past my nose.” Things happen for a reason. The reason is usually that you’ve made a choice. He made the choice to visit me, and I made a choice I had no hand in. “Did you ever get any other emails from me?”

  He shakes his head, but doesn’t meet my gaze. “I didn’t. Just the one and even that was too little too late. I’m sorry,” he says.

  “You were busy. It’s fine.” I wave him off. “Someone has to save the world.”

  He glances behind him, over his shoulder.

  I shudder. “Did you come with someone?”

  I was okay when it was him assuming I’m dating Dr. Rhodes, but the notion he has a date here makes my skin crawl and my stomach roil. It’s not okay and I realize the possessiveness I feel toward him won’t go away regardless of how much time passes. The people are thinning out, so it’s easy to see who belongs with whom. There’s a tall, thin, extra blond woman standing next to one of his other friends.

  I clear my throat. “I won’t hold you up anymore,” I say. “Bye, Macs,” I whisper, finally letting my eyes find his. Still his lips are pressed in a firm line. I smile at him, hoping for anything resembling his former self. When he doesn’t reply, I turn to start up the hill.

  “Teala,” he calls out.

  Looking over my shoulder, I raise my brows in question.

  “I like your haircut,” he stutters.

  I laugh. “Thanks. I like yours too.” It’s the same as it’s always been. Perfect. Not a stray hair out of place. I start walking again.

  “Teala,” he says my name again.

  I stop and turn, placing my hands on my hips.

  “I like your ass.”

  I laugh, covering my mouth with one hand. The beautiful blond woman walks up and takes Macs’ hand in her own. I try not to wince or show how much it bothers me, but he knows. He tries to disentangle himself from her.

  What more can he possibly say now that his girlfriend is standing next to him? When Macs doesn’t make an attempt to introduce me, I start up the hill, my cheeks heating under her calculating stare. He calls my name again. Louder this time. I stop walking, but I don’t turn around. The words I want to say are on the tip of my tongue. Half of those are swear words and insults, so I pin my lips together with my teeth.

  “We were normal,” he calls out.

  Sighing, I spin on my heel. “What?”

  He swallows hard. “You said our relationship would never be normal. It was normal. Because it was ours and we made it. It was formed exactly how we wanted it. We were normal for us and it was still extraordinary.”

  I must look like a deer caught in headlights, because Macs doesn’t wait for me to respond.

  He blusters on. “You say I remind you of everything bad, that our love was villainous, and I’m calling fucking bullshit, Teala. Love is only villainous if you make it so. Me leaving doesn’t cancel out everything else. Me leaving doesn’t lessen the depth of feelings we have for each other. Me leaving is normal. So is me coming back. To you.”

  The blond woman scoffs, rolls her eyes, and stomps off in her heels that are too high for dirt.

  “It was normal. We were good together. I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I left and I’m sorry for assuming all was well. I’m sorry I came by unannounced when I shouldn’t have. I�
�m sorry the world is fucked up and you have to live with fear. You should know this. All of this. Once and for all.” His strides are long as he approaches and he’s standing in front of me after several steps. He arrives and his scent is strewn across every square inch of my body. I have to close my eyes to block out the memories.

  I don’t dare move. I should. I know Dr. Rhodes is waiting by this point. His words have glued me to the spot. Tentatively, Macs reaches for my face.

  “Tell me you don’t feel this,” he says, cradling my head in his hand. “Tell me it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll walk away and never look back. I’ll go back to pretending I was happy, when in reality I was lonely. Tell me right now that zoo life should be left to the animals and monogamy to sea horses and penguins. Tell me.” His eyes are pleading and the tone of his voice is so sincere, the pit in my stomach threatens to swallow me whole.

  The fact I’ve gotten this far into this conversation without crying is a miracle. “You didn’t come back,” I whisper, tears finally threatening. “I know what I said and it’s unconscionable, but you didn’t even check in to make sure I was okay.” All of the therapy and hard conversations about my father leaving juxtaposed with Macs leaving, and this is what I couldn’t get over. The niggling factor in the equation that just didn’t line up.

  I look up and meet his eyes and the tears fall. He brushes them away with his thumbs, both hands now on each side of my face.

  “Of course I knew how you were doing, Teala. Of course I checked in on you.”

  I shake my head, but he doesn’t release his hold. “You don’t have to lie. I’m sure you have reasons. It’s as if your love for me died when the old me faded away. I’m back, maybe a little rough around the edges, but I’m better. You didn’t check on me and that’s not…real love,” I say, tripping over the last words. “I should go. Salvatore is waiting for me.”

  He releases me, a frown on his face. “Viola gave me updates, Teala.”

  I nod. It doesn’t matter. “Whatever you say. I have to go now. Tell Carina and Smith I’m not going to make it to dinner.”