Page 70 of Fight Or Flight

“You drove here? I thought my mom took you in today.”

“She followed me,” she reveals. “When she mentioned it was your road test, I asked if it would be okay if I drove you. You can use my mom’s—er, my car, to take the test. Who knows, it might bring you luck.”

She shrugs a shoulder and a small smile creeps onto her lips.

She definitely misses me too.

“It’s worth a shot,” I tell her, still grinning like the lovesick fool that I am.

Fuck it.

A wise man once said own it and that’s what I’m going to do.

* * *

I saunter awayfrom Brook’s car, holding the slip of paper the instructor handed me before he exited the passenger seat. Brook spots me immediately and crosses the street. Once she hits the double yellow lines, she picks up the pace and starts running toward me. The sight knocks me on my ass, and I think about what I said to her that night in her mom’s room.

I meant every word.

I want her to be the girl who runs to me. The girl I lift in my arms and hold close after completing basic combat training.

The person who keeps me fighting.

The one I can’t wait to get back home to.

The woman who, after a long deployment, kisses me with all she’s got.

She comes to a skidding halt in front of me and searches my eyes.

“Well?”

I wonder if she’d knock me out if I kissed her right now. When she grabs my shirt, I think I might have a decent shot at keeping my jaw intact if I go in for the kill.

“Eric! Don’t keep me in suspense, did you pass or not?”

She tugs my t-shirt and I wrap my arms around her waist. Her eyes narrow slightly as she looks up at me and I smile down at her. I feel victorious and it has nothing to do with the piece of paper in my hand, it’s because she’s back in my arms.

“I passed.”

She releases my shirt and the grin she gives me is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Her arms wind around my neck and she jumps on me. She fucking jumps on me. I mean, her legs wrap around my waist and everything. I didn’t even have to go to war to get her in my arms like this.

“I knew it,” she whispers, tightening her hold on me. My hands travel down her back and I press her even closer to me, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I don’t know if this is a temporary high or what, but for now, I’m going to hang on with everything I got.

After all, one hundred and thirteen days isn’t a lot of time.

The clock is ticking.

It’s do or die.

Fight or flight.

---