Page 19 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Nine
Nick
I have been wandering around missing you. Your ideas packed up their bags and left you long before you would’ve let them. I do hope the reunion was sweet.
The rotation had felt grueling and long. So much of life felt that way lately.
“Masters, will I see you at the feast later?” Nate Reynolds asked as he shrugged into a jacket he’d ditched during the sprints.
I’d started offering weekend training at my house, but I’d wanted to do measured sprints, so today we did the whole workout on post at the high school’s track. Some of the soldiers needed to improve their run times, and sprints were a part of that. Granted, none of those soldiers showed up to these sessions, but the men and women who did seemed to enjoy them.
“I’ll be there.”
“Bringing a date?” Reynolds asked, sounding casual as can be.
I stood with my arms crossed, nodding to everyone who left with a wave. I eyed him and answered. “No, sir.”
“Is Rob dating Summer? Or, are you?” He fiddled with his phone, again seeming too nonchalant.
“You interested, sir?” The cold air burned my lungs a little on the next inhale.
His head popped up, eyes surprised.
“Me? No. Just figured one of you were. I’m—er, well. You know me. Never get tied down, ha.” He forced a chuckle, but it ended in a cough.
The major was a good leader, a good guy. He had a reputation as a bit of a ladies’ man, but it never clicked for me. Yet again, his words didn’t add up. Not the first time public image didn’t match the reality, but what did I know?
I didn’t respond, because what would I say? Reynolds slapped me on the shoulder as a farewell. He couldn’t continue to dig and not be obvious, but clearly, he felt the need to connect with me. I’d been through it a hundred times over the years. As a quiet, introverted man, I kept to myself. Sometimes, it’d been a deficit. Other times, a true asset. And very often, a maddening puzzle for my outgoing, well-meaning peers and leaders.
I hauled myself, and the equipment I’d brought, home. I’d need to order some new stuff or see if the unit wanted to bulk up its collection of portable tools. Sometimes, novelty engaged reluctant people effectively—bands, weights used in a new way, weighted balls, things like that.
By the time I reached my house, the sky was heavy with snow, and all I wanted to do was curl up by a fire and read. I genuinely loved motivating people, pushing them, but when the time came to an end, I felt completely drained. I’d used my full measure of words for the day, the complete stock of extroversion I could summon.
The horror of going to a dinner party later loomed in front of me. What a stupid thing to feel for something I’d been anticipating, genuinely looking forward to, for weeks. Ever since Summer had mentioned it.
Summer, who’d fed me when she saw I’d made it home from rotation. Unexpected, kind, generous… no one watching. There’d been no audience, and yet she’d insisted on the kindness. The idea that she did it for accolades or attention just didn’t make sense. And maybe that had something to do with the letter I’d given her that night before I headed back into work.
A little jump in my chest had me shaking my head at myself as I pushed into the door. As always, Butter didn’t greet me. He only chose to dart for the door, barreling toward freedom like a maniac, when someone else came knocking. He’d escaped a few times but became so overwhelmed with the outside world, he’d made it ten feet from the door and slumped down on his side. I’d given the leash a shot, but same response.
The cat lay stretched long on the back of the couch. He curled his head around, then ducked his nose and eyes under his paws and left his chin exposed, the small purr motor in his fluff-covered body whirring. I scratched his smooth little throat for a minute, but left off before the switch flipped and his nature forced him to bite me. Too much of a good thing drove him into madness.
The day slipped out of my hands. After a shower and getting Alicia and Art set up for a workout in the garage, I wrote and meal-prepped the food I’d bought the day before. The time for dinner at Summer’s inched closer, and with each minute that passed, my dread multiplied.
I didn’t want to sit around a table with a bunch of people I didn’t know and make small talk. I’d never figured out why people like doing that. I understood friendship and deeper connection. I understood wanting to truly know someone, and that in order to get to that place, one had to endure the nastiness of a first date or get-together. But damn, I hated the process and couldn’t wrap my mind around how Summer did these things twice a month.
Luckily, it sounded like she rarely invited the same people. She had a come one, come all approach, but she did have to limit numbers. At this point, so many people in the Kugelfels community had heard of the meals, she probably never had repeats. So I could count on this being my one and only feast night.
That thought didn’t provide the comfort I expected. I finished buttoning the dress shirt and rolled the cuffs at my wrists. I didn’t want to seem overly dressed up, so I wore a gray button-up with jeans, and I’d toss a wool coat, hat, and gloves on. It had started snowing half an hour ago, and though the walk was short, I’d be glad for the layers on the way back.
Out in the night, not quite fully dark thanks to the days getting longer bit by bit here at the end of February, two cars pulled into the circle and parked. My stomach turned over and my jaw pinched. A flash of nervous heat shot through me—damn, I’d probably start sweating at this rate.
Before I backed out and ran home with my tail between my legs, I accelerated my walk and reached the door in time to open it for Nate Reynolds and his date.
“Masters, do you know Ariel Wolfe?” He gestured to a striking woman who preceded him through the doorway. He followed her, and I followed them.
“We haven’t met.” I shook her outstretched hand, struck by the blue of her eyes. Dark lashes, dark swoopy hair all kinds of pretty around her face, pale skin. Good for the major, albeit curious he’d date the colonel’s sister so casually.
“Ariel, this is Nick Masters. He’s the beast who runs the workouts for the battalion and who’s training Rob. He’s also an excellent NCO and a man of few words.” Nate smiled charmingly, then looked at me. “And this is Ariel Wolfe, as I said. She’s Eric’s sister and nanny to his two kids. She’s also put up with me as a friend for over a decade, so feel free to cast her pitying looks all evening.”
