Page 35 of Ranger's Secret

"Look, Jagger," Bill said, leaning back in his chair with the weary expression of a man who'd dealt with too many personnel issues over the years. "What you did was stupid and reckless. Could have put the entire program at risk if that client had decided to make a bigger stink about it."

I nodded, accepting the verbal lashing I deserved. "I understand that, sir."

"But," he continued, "you've been one of our best rangers. And frankly, good rangers are hard to come by. So here's what's going to happen."

He slid a packet across his desk. "Sexual harassment training. Workplace boundaries. Professional conduct. You're going to complete every module, pass every test, and then we're going to pretend this conversation never happened."

Relief flooded through me, though it was tempered by the knowledge that keeping my job didn't fix the real damage I'd caused with Delaney. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down again."

"See that you don't. And Jagger? Next time you want to get involved with someone connected to a program you're running, maybe use your brain instead of what’s in your pants."

Point taken.

I spent the rest of the week throwing myself into work, trying to outrun the guilt and regret that followed me everywhere. I completed the mandatory training modules, filed reports, inventoried equipment, and took on every extra shift available. Anything to keep my mind off the fact that Delaney wouldn't answer my calls or texts.

It’s the end of the week, and I still haven’t heard a word from Delaney. Every time my phone rings, I think it might be her.

But this time, it’s my sister’s name on the screen.

"Hey, Maya."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass. "Delaney? Really? My best friend?"

I close my eyes and lean against the supply closet wall. "Maya, let me explain."

"Don't bother. I've heard enough,” she spits back.

"We need to talk about this face to face,” I tell her.

But she's already hung up.

I makethe drive in record time, my truck eating up the miles while I practice what I'm going to say. How do I explain years of wanting someone I couldn't have? How do I make my sister understand that this isn't some casual hookup or conquest?

Maya's apartment building is one of those modern complexes with too much glass and not enough character. I find her unit and knock, bracing myself for the confrontation.

She opens the door and it’s obvious she's been crying, which makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit alive.

"I told you not to come," she says, but she steps aside to let me in anyway.

Her apartment is bright and cozy, with plants everywhere and photos of her and Delaney covering every surface. The evidence of their friendship surrounds me, making my guilt even heavier.

"Talk," Maya says, crossing her arms. "You've got five minutes."

I take a deep breath and dive in. "I love her."

"Oh, please. You love all my friends. Remember Jessica from sophomore year? Or Sarah from my study group? You've had a thing for half the girls I know."

"That's not true." The accusation stings because there's a grain of truth in it. I did date Jessica. And I may have flirted with Sarah. But neither of them meant anything. "This is different. Delaney is different."

"Different how? Because she held out longer?"

"Because I've been in love with her since the day I met her. Not just attracted to her. Not interested in her. In love with her. For years."

Maya's expression wavers slightly, but her arms stay crossed. "If that's true, then why did you wait so long to act on it?"

"Because I'm an idiot." I run my hand along my beard. "Because I convinced myself that keeping my distance was the right thing to do, until I just couldn’t hold back anymore."

"Keeping your distancewasthe right thing to do,” she bites back.

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