“I’ll handle it.”
He didn’t remove the sunglasses. That only attracted glances from passing girls. He grinned as I spied a cluster emerging from the nearby dorms.
“They’re freshman,” I warned. “Look, but don’t touch.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “They don’t got a thing on you, baby.”
Christ, I believed him. Again. That would have to stop.
Or did it?
Ugh. Not what I needed to worry about while facing the crumbling foundation of my future.
I marched into the administrative offices with all the confidence I could fake. The secretary greeted me with oversized glasses and undersized patience. I tried to smile, but I didn’t know what expression said Hi, I’m dropping out of college and disappointing generations of my family. Where do I sign?
I opted for something simpler.
“Hi. I…uh, I was withdrawing from my classes. I have my form…”
“Student ID number.”
I rattled it off. She waved for the papers in my hand—the few letters I gathered from my professors who waived the F in favor of an Incomplete.
“A member of the student relations board will call you once this is processed. Please be aware we cannot grant refunds on this semester’s tuition.”
“Oh, I…I know.”
“Have a nice day.”
That was it? I swallowed. The secretary dismissed me with a slurp of her diet Coke.
Was it really that easy? All of Professor Sweeten’s threats, the humiliation at the academy, the sleepless nights—and all I had to do was hand in a letter?
I could have emailed my failure to the school.
What the hell was I doing standing before a complete stranger pretending not to fall to pieces? These people wouldn’t help. They’d sweep me into the same garbage bin as the other shattered students who fell apart before making it into the real world.
Thank God Momma wasn’t here to see this. Or Dad. He was the one who paid for it.
I returned to Zach. He tossed me the helmet.
“It was quick,” I said.
He shuddered. “Words a guy never wants to hear.”
I forced a smile. “I’m not very hungry.”
“But I know the best burger joint.”
“Zach—”
“Hop on. They make a chocolate milkshake that’s more tempting than you.”
Ice-cream did sound good. For a girl without a future and a severe allergy to cats, about the only thing I could collect in the future would be pints of gourmet ice-creams.
Hell, if I really wanted to become an eccentric hermit, I’d invest in some prime ice-cream makers with all my untouched money…
The idea struck me with the same severity as an ice-cream headache. I hopped on the bike and patted for Zach to ride.
“Damn. Someone likes her desserts. You should have told me. I can do wicked things with whipped cream—”
“Drive, Zach.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
True to his word, Zach delivered us to a gluttonous heart-attack waiting to happen—a Mom and Pop diner with food served in a puddle of grease. The milkshake crowned with a heaping layer of whipped cream bigger than my head. It was a good choice.
I nibbled on my fries, scrunching my nose as Zach dipped his into my chocolate shake. He didn’t let me argue.
“Just try it.”
I rolled my eyes and buried the fry into the mess. Sweet, salty, and perfect.
“You gotta stop fighting me,” Zach winked. “No, you can’t live here. No, I don’t want to talk to you. No, don’t put it in there, that’ll hurt.”
“Very funny.”
“You okay?” He asked.
I shrugged, happy for the milkshake to distract me. “I think so.”
“No shame in ordering a second of those.”
Oddly enough, I didn’t need chocolate to survive this crisis. I teased the cherry through the whipped cream and shrugged.
“What if…” I didn’t know how to phrase it or if it was even a viable idea. “You know how everyone tells me to forget college? That I should just buy my own school and screw those who held me back?”
Zach gobbled half of his burger down. He nodded.
“Why don’t I buy a school?”
“Mrphschool?” He swallowed. “A school?”
“Or…a charity. I was thinking…I don’t have to be a teacher to do what I wanted. In fact, I’d be limited if I taught, stuck with a set curriculum and working inside the administration. But, if I had like…an after-school program? Or a school with summer events? Tutoring and games and all that?”
Zach put the burger down. He smiled. His dimples were every bit the affirmation I needed.
“I think it’s a good idea.”
“Really?”
“Sure. With our money? Hell, a chicken in every pot and a tutor for every kid.”
My heart lumped but forgot to bump. “Our money?”
“Yeah. It’s a good cause. Toss my share in there too. I’ll pull a salary again once I re-enlist.”
“You’d…do that for me?”
“Shay, I told you before. I’m not in this for the money. I wanted a place to crash and a gym to train in so I could pass my physical.” He sipped his Coke. “And I wanted a chance to get closer to you.”
I looked down. The milkshake refroze in my stomach. This wasn’t a conversation to have over a burger and fries in a tiny diner.
“How close did you want to get?” I asked.
He waved a pickle at me after watching how I inhaled mine. He let me take a bite of his.
“Are you asking if I got my quick fuck and will be on my way?” He said.
In every sense of the word. “Of course not.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m not anywhere close enough to you yet.”
There wasn’t really any place left on me to get close to. All my places were thoroughly discovered. Sometimes twice. Sometimes three times while accompanied with fierce denial in the morning. What else did he want?
And then I knew.
“Look, Zach—”
“Don’t give me the step-brother line again. It doesn’t weird me out. It shouldn’t make a difference to you.”
“Okay, bro,” I sighed. “Let’s ignore the family tree for a second. You said it yourself. You’re re-enlisting.”
“So?”
“Will a Navy SEAL make it home for dinner at night?”
He quieted. “No. But there’s leave every once in a while.”
“I’m not looking for every once in a while. You have your life, what you’ve planned to do, what you’re built for.” I regretted the words as they only encouraged him to flex. “You want to be a SEAL. I understand that. But I can’t get wrapped up in this only to have you leave. Zach…I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You wouldn’t be.”
“We have our own goals, okay? We need to focus on those. We had some fun together. More than we should have. But I can’t let myself fall—”
Shit. I almost said it. And no big industrial truck rumbling by or hooting laugh of another diner muffled the mistake. Zach stared at me.
“Shay?” He clenched his fist around his drink. “Only two things could keep me out of the SEALs now. One would be a douche-bag doctor failing my physical. The other—”
My heart pounded. “—Don’t.”
“I never had a reason to settle down.”
“Zach.”
“You’ve always been alone.”
“Stop.”
“I literally had my life flash before my eyes, and I had nothing to show for it except a dozen classified missions and an empty apartment. Almost dying gives a man perspective. Maybe there’s more for me.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Shay, why fight it?”
“Because…” My lip trembled. I didn’t want to fight it anymore. I didn’t want to do anything but rest in his arms, giggle at his crude humor, and lick every last drop of the milkshake from his chest. “I…”
A shadow crossed over the table. A middle-aged moment-killer winked at Zach and set the check by his hand.
“Thanks, folks, come back now.” She didn’t mean it.