Page 76 of Fight Or Flight

“After you missed dinner, I figured you must be starving.”

“Starving is an understatement,” I say, tearing open a bag of chips. Sour cream and onion, my favorite. Yep, it’s confirmed, Brooklyn is totally wifey material. “Why are you all the way over there?” I ask, patting the empty spot beside me. As hungry as I am, I’m willing to pass on the midnight snacks if it means cuddling with my pretty little hurricane. But instead, she folds her legs under her.

“Um…that was an invitation to come closer.”

She bites her lower lip and cocks her head to the side.

That’s not the look of a girl who wants to spoon.

“I didn’t just come down here to bring you snacks, Eric.”

My good mood instantly turns to shit and I close my fist around the bag of chips as a heavy sigh escapes my lips.

“If you came here to tell me you don’t want any part of me because I’m joining the Army, you should probably go because I’ve taken about all I can take for one day.”

“I came here because you told me we have four months to figure out how to make it work and I want to know how we do that,” she replies and my gaze snaps back to her. I stare at her blankly for a minute, sure I heard her wrong.

“What are you saying, because it sounds to me like you’re telling me you want to be my girl and I really don’t want to be wrong.”

I might actually cry if that’s not the case.

Fuck, I’ve become a total pussy.

She smiles, though, sparing me the embarrassment of a meltdown.

Oh, my pretty little hurricane, if only you knew…

“That’s still on the table?” she asks sheepishly.

“It never left the table.”

“Then, yeah, Eric, that’s what I’m saying. I want to be your girl. I want to be the one who cheers the loudest at your basic training graduation and the one you run to when you’re getting off a plane after a tour. I want to be everything you need, you just have to show me how. Make me understand.”

I don’t know how to respond to that because she’s already everything I need.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” I say hoarsely. “But I’m going to need you to tell me what you need from me too.”

“Deal,” she whispers, holding out her hand. My gaze lowers as I slip my hand in hers, but instead of shaking it, I tug her closer. “Eric!”

“What?” I say innocently. “I think this conversation is best had if you’re sitting on my lap.”

She rolls her eyes.

“If I sit on your lap, there won’t be much talking.”

Facts.

“Fine,” I grunt. “But after the talking, your ass and my lap have a date.”

Her ass, my lap, our lips…it’s going to be one big orgy of body parts.

“Tell me why you’re joining the Army.”

Well, if that isn’t a killjoy.

We probably could’ve bypassed this part of the conversation if she hadn’t overheard me talking to my parents. Such a little eavesdropper.

“If this is about what you heard—”

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