Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology

by T. L. Wainwright

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this with me? You’ve no idea who I am or what I’m capable of.”

  “Yes,” I answer, a little more forcefully than before. It might sound crazy, but I know he’s not capable of hurting me—not physically, anyway. I may have only just met him, but I already feel as if I’ve known him my entire life.

  “Okay then, let’s go.”

  “Right now?” I ask in a panic.

  “Well, no, not right now. I was thinking we should get some sleep first. You can get some stuff together in the morning, I can get my car, and then we can go.”

  “Everywhere and nowhere,” I state.

  “Exactly. Come on then, Skittles, let’s go find us a bed for a few hours.”

  I take his out stretched hand and together, we head off into the night.

  It’s not long until we’re stood in the reception of a 24/7 hotel getting that look off the middle-aged receptionist. She thinks we’re just checking in for a late night hook up. The thought makes me panic and it only gets worse when Bax hands his credit card over to pay for the room.

  I look away from the desk and allow him to take my hand to pull me in the direction of our room once he’s finished.

  “Bax, I—” I manage to say when he puts the card in the little machine to unlock the door.

  “I got a twin room,” he says, obviously seeing where my thoughts were going.

  “O…okay,” I stutter, following him in.

  When I look up, true to his word, there are two single beds. I look around the room and try not to let my thoughts show on my face. I don’t want to seem ungrateful.

  “No wonder it was so fucking cheap,” Bax says from behind me.

  I let out a sigh of relief that he sees it too. The place looks like it last saw a decorator in the eighties. The walls and ceiling are definitely yellower than they’re meant to be, and the few bits of furniture in here look like they’re about to fall apart.

  “I guess it’ll be okay for a few hours,” I say, slipping my shoes off and wiggling my toes as I sit on the corner of one of the beds. It creaks loudly, making us both laugh.

  “I’ve stayed in some bad places, but this is up there,” Bax says as he empties his pockets on the bedside table.

  I watch as he undoes a couple of his shirt buttons before he reaches back and begins pulling it over his head. I’m fairly sure it all happens at normal speed, but I could swear time slows down as he reveals the most incredible body to me. His skin is a stunning golden colour, like he’s recently been in the sun, and it flawlessly covers perfectly sculpted pecs and abs.

  I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it. It’s like my eyes are glued to him.

  “Fuck, Skittles,” Bax complains when he catches me ogling him.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I say in a panic as I spin on the bed so I’m facing away from him. My face heats and I drop it into my hands in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. I shut my eyes, but it’s like the image of him shirtless is burned onto the inside of my eyelids.

  I noticeably flinch when his hands land on my shoulders. “It’s okay, look as much as you want; just know that I can’t be held responsible for my actions when you do.”

  I try to swallow but my mouth is suddenly drier than a fucking desert, so I end up nodding instead.

  “Hey, stop hiding from me,” he says, pulling my hands away from my face and turning my head so I have to look at him. He runs his fingertips over my cheeks and his eyes look over every inch of my face. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he must change his mind because instead, he drops his hand and steps away from me.

  “Here,” he says, holding out his shirt. He must sense my reluctance because he drops it into my lap before saying, “Well you don’t want to sleep in that, do you?” as he gestures at my outfit.

  “No, not really,” I mutter as I gather up the fabric and head towards the bathroom. I look over my shoulder before entering to see Bax with his back to me, undoing his jeans. He’s just about to drop them when he must feel my stare, because he glances over at me. My breath catches at the look on his face. His eyes are smouldering.

  “Keep it up and you won’t be getting any sleep,” he warns.

  His words spur me into action and I quickly step into the bathroom and lock myself in.

  I rest back against the door and try to get my head together. How the hell did this night end with me in a shitty hotel room with a solider? I wonder briefly what happened to Frankie, Lisa and Tara. The only reason Frankie and Lisa ever disappear on a night out is because they’ve pulled, so I can only imagine they’re both currently warming a soldier’s bed. I’m happy for Frankie in a weird way; she’s getting to live out her fantasy, I just hope she doesn’t end up getting hurt. She likes to make out she’s all about easy sex and whatever, but I know her, and I know deep down she wants more than that, even if she won’t admit it.

  I eventually make use of the bathroom before stripping off my clothes and pulling Bax’s shirt over my head. It’s huge and almost comes down to my knees, but I’m grateful because it does a good job of covering me up. I do my best with the complimentary soap and water to remove what’s left of tonight’s make up, and comb my hair through with my fingers before plaiting it over my shoulder. I pull my thick-rimmed glasses from the bottom of my clutch and slide them on after disposing of my contact lenses.

  I’m just reaching for the doorknob when I get a sudden bolt of nerves as I think about who’s on the other side of the door. How do I trust him so much when I’ve only just met him? There’s no way I should be this comfortable about spending a night in a hotel room with a man I hardly know. I shake the thought away because there’s something telling me this is exactly what I should be doing, that for some reason I was meant to meet Bax tonight. I roll my shoulders and let out a breath before pulling the door open and stepping out.

  He was obviously waiting for me, because he starts talking before I round the corner.

  “So where did you want to…holy—” he stops mid-sentence when I appear. His chin drops and his eyes race around me like they don’t know where to look first. I want to be all confident like Frankie would be in this exact situation, but unfortunately, that’s not who I am, so instead of standing here proudly, I fold my arms over my chest and look down at the ground.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he says. I expect to find him out of bed when I look up, so I’m surprised to I see him still sat there with the covers over his waist. “Never be embarrassed by looking that incredible.”

  Heat races up my neck and I feel my face flush red. I manage to break from his gaze and rush to get into bed. The way he’s looking at me right now scares and excites me in equal measures.

  I lie myself down on my side and pull the covers up to my neck before looking over at him. He’s still sat exactly as he was, and staring where I was stood.

  “Are you okay?” I ask after a few minutes when he still hasn’t moved or said anything.

  “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly.

  “I…uh…can go,” I offer, thinking he doesn’t want me here.

  “Trust me, Skittles, that’s the last thing I want right now.”

  “Okay then,” I whisper because the emotion in his voice just then knocked me for six.

  “Goodnight, Skittles.”

  “Goodnight, Bax.”

  Chapter Three

  I wake to the weirdest sound. I lie there for a few seconds, firstly trying to remember where the hell I am, and then secondly to work out what it is that’s woken me. As soon as I open my eyes, it’s obvious. Bax is at the foot of our beds doing sit-ups, and the noise is his exhale every time he does a crunch. I grab my glasses silently and shift myself so I have a better view. I watch with delight as he continues. His muscles flex in the most delicious way. I lose count after fifty, but eventually he turns over and starts doing push-ups. I almost groan at the sight of his firm arse clad in only his white boxer briefs. Every woma
n should get to wake up to this every morning.

  I stay still and watch every single push up, taking note of the straining muscles in his thick arms each time he drops to the floor. The longer I watch him, the more my sleepy body wakes up. My heart is pounding, and I’m dying to fling the covers off me, but that means telling him I’m awake and watching, so I lie here suffering. It’s totally worth it.

  After an insane number of push-ups, he jumps to his feet. He’s got his back to me but the second he raises his eyes to the mirror in front of him, they stare directly into mine. I see them widen slightly in surprise before they darken. We’re both frozen, staring at each other for a few minutes. I’m not sure if that means he’s pissed off that I was watching him.

  Eventually, he turns. I’m desperate to run my eyes over his body again but the intensity in his keeps mine held hostage. In seconds, he’s inches from my face, hovering above me.

  “You need to be careful what you wish for, Skittles,” he warns, his voice deeper than it was last night.

  “I…I didn’t,” I stutter.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t do anything until you were begging for it, but you’re making it really fucking hard to keep that promise.”

  I swallow, but my suddenly dry mouth makes it a challenge. Does he mean…?

  My thoughts are cut off when his lips brush mine. It’s a kiss like the first one we shared last night. There’s no movement, but it feels like there’s a promise in it.

  His lips are gone as quickly as they appeared, and when my eyes focus, he’s walking away from me. I only get a quick glimpse of his arse before he disappears around the corner and into the bathroom.

  I stay where I am, listening to the sound of running water and imagining how his body would look wet and glistening.

  When he emerges I get a shot of exactly what that’s like because he’s still wet with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “I thought you would’ve gone back to sleep,” he says when he sees me still awake.

  “It’s fine, I don’t sleep much,” I admit. I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac but since things with Mum and the shop have been getting worse, so has my sleeping.

  “We’ve only had two hours,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  Okay, I do usually manage a little more than that. “You shouldn’t have woken me up with all that huffing and puffing then,” I say with a smile.

  “I can assure you, I was not huffing or puffing.”

  “Okay then, army man, whatever you say.”

  Bax narrows his eyes at my piss taking but he doesn’t say anything about it. “I was going to find some coffee. Would you like one?”

  “There’s stuff over there,” I say, pointing to the little kettle.

  “Knock yourself out, but I want real coffee.”

  “Real coffee would be good, now you mention it.”

  I watch in amazement as Bax stands, turns his back to me, and drops the towel. I cough to cover my groan but from the movement I see in his shoulders, I don’t think I do a very good job. Once his jeans are on, he turns back towards me.

  “I’m gonna need my shirt.”

  “Uh…hang on,” I say, diving under the covers.

  I squirm around and manage to get his shirt off before I poke my head out, followed by my arm, and hand it over. My other hand keeps the covers pulled up to my neck, although it doesn’t seem to matter because the way Bax is staring at the duvet, you’d think it was see through.

  “Thank you,” he mutters before pulling it over his head. “Motherfucker.”

  “What?”

  “It smells like you.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper, feeling embarrassed.

  “Don’t be. It just means I’m even less likely to be able to get the image of you wearing it out of my head.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m gone for twenty minutes to give you time to get dressed and shit.”

  “Get dressed and shit?” I repeat with a smile.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know what girly shit you might need to do,” he admits.

  “Okay, well…thank you.”

  Seconds later, he’s gone and I’m left alone in this dingy hotel room, questioning my sanity once again. I try to put my thoughts to one side as I rush into the bathroom to shower and dress before he gets back.

  “Skittles, are you decent?” Bax shouts through the crack in the door exactly twenty minutes later.

  “Yes,” I answer with a laugh.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, making me laugh even more. “Here, I made an educated guess,” he says, handing me a Costa cup and McDonald’s bag. The smell makes my stomach grumble.

  “McDonald’s coffee not good enough for you either?” I ask with amusement, looking at what’s in my hands.

  “No,” he says after taking a sip.

  “Aren’t they at opposite ends of the high street?”

  “And?”

  I don’t really have an argument so smiling to myself I pop the top off the cup to allow it to cool down. I’m not overly fussy when it comes to coffee but when I see what I think is a cappuccino, I can’t help but smile. “Perfect,” I say, and Bax’s face lights up. My heart flutters slightly at the sight and I desperately want to tell it not to be so stupid.

  I take a tedious sip and when it’s even hotter than I was expecting, I put it down and grab the bag. “Yum,” I say, opening up the muffin, “just what I needed.”

  We both polish off our breakfast in record time before falling back into a comfortable silence.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask eventually, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “You’re still up for it?” Bax asks, incredulously.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t mean it.”

  I get another smile off him and it affects me no less than last time. What is it about this guy?

  “Is it okay with you if we don’t have a plan? My life is one strict routine; I’d quite like to go with the flow for once.”

  “Of course. So when are we going?”

  “I thought once we’re sorted here, we’d go, get our stuff, and head off.”

  “I thought you didn’t have any plans?”

  “Once we’re in my car and driving out of Bristol, I have none,” he says with a laugh. He looks away from me but not before I see a serious look fall over his face. “This is just a two week thing, no exchanging numbers or anything. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

  My heart sinks a little at the thought of whatever this is having a time limit, but I’m aware that it’s what I signed up for when I agreed to this last night. “Yeah, that’s fine with me,” I answer, although a little reluctantly.

  It’s still crazy early when our taxi pulls up outside Bax’s mum’s home. It’s not quite what I was expecting after spending the night with him. In my head, I had the image of a standard three-bed semi with a cute little garden, but in reality, his mum lives in a flat in a seriously run down area of town.

  “Thanks, mate,” Bax says, paying the driver. I hop from the taxi and he follows behind me. “This way. My car’s in the garage.” He places his hand on the small of my back and pushes me towards a set of dilapidated looking garages. It’s obvious which one his car is in because there’s only one with a working door. The rest are all hanging off at odd angles or missing completely.

  When he pulls the door up, my eyes almost bug out of my head. “You’re a boy racer?” I ask in shock as I run my eyes over his immaculate white Peugeot.

  “I can assure you I’m not. We won’t be cruising with a banging bass or hanging out in any McDonald’s car parks.”

  “Riiiight.” I can’t help laughing at the look on his face.

  “I love cars, especially classic ones.”

  “I’m not sure a nineties Peugeot 106 is a classic, Bax.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s a beauty. I’ve totally rebuilt her from the wheels up. You won’t find a better 106 out
there. Anyway, get in, get comfortable, and I’ll be back in a few.”

  “You’re leaving me here?”

  “Yeah, I’ll only be a minute or two. My stuff’s packed already from getting back yesterday.”

  I agree, but only because I can tell by his stance that I don’t have a chance in hell of going with him. He’s decided that I’m staying here and that’s what’s going to happen. I realise I’m getting my first look at Bax the solider, and it’s hot.

  I’ve never been in a car quite like this before. I drop my clutch on my lap and look around. The red and black interior is a stark contrast to the perfect white paintwork on the outside. I’ve no idea when Bax last drove this, but it’s sparkling clean. The black dashboard almost shines in the morning sun, and the red leather bucket seats look brand new. I continue looking around and come to the conclusion that Bax is a bit of a neat freak. There’s nothing in the door pockets—not even an old packet of chewing gum—and the glove box is definitely different to any I’ve ever seen before as it only contains one very neatly folded cloth.

  I’m distracted from his perfect car by some movement in front of his building. I look over, thinking I’m going to be able to ogle him as he walks this way. Only, when I look up, it isn’t him on the doorstep. Instead, there’s a woman. She’s got to be in her fifties at least. Her hair is a mess and sticking up in all directions, and her make up is so heavy I can see it all smeared down her face from here, but the thing that makes her stand out the most is what she’s wearing—or isn’t wearing. The lace nightie covers nothing, and I mean nothing. The much younger man she’s with hands her something before turning and walking away. I quickly look down, not wanting to be caught watching them.

  I grab my phone as a distraction and send a text to Frankie to ask how her night was. I don’t expect an answer for hours yet. If I get any contact from her before two o’clock this afternoon, I’ll be amazed.

  “Hey, you haven’t run,” Bax says as he drops down next to me after throwing a bag into the back seat.

  “I’m not sure I’d want to around here.” I regret my words instantly when I remember this is where he lives.