Page 12 of Little Did We Know
That one got River going again.With his mouth full.“I didn’t mean it’s gotta be Prince Charming.But you wanna be settled, even if it’s a playtime dynamic.”
I suppressed a sigh and glanced over at the sandbox again.Poor Lucas West.River was right; I’d observed the same thing, but you didn’t fucking say it to someone you weren’t close to.At least, not yet.I wasn’t gonna let my brother push the guy away.I liked him.
West and River went back and forth for a while, and I eyed the two masochists cranking things up in the sand.I’d located their Doms, who stood along the sidelines cheering them on, and they had some friends there too.One of the masochists threw himself toward the other, causing a bunch of sand to fly at the audience.They laughed and brushed it off, all happy and highly entertained—except one dude.I watched him force a smile before he turned away to brush his hands over his face.
I cocked my head.Something was off with his demeanor.He wasn’t annoyed by the sand.It was something else.He tensed up and rubbed a fist at his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut.
He’s military.
I stood straighter and registered his high-and-tight haircut, his posture, and what he wore.Jeans and a tee, a Santa hat tucked into his back pocket, hands balled into fists—he was trying to regain control.Everything about him screamed battle, and as I watched a group of partygoers walk closer, I felt the need to intervene.If he had PTSD or something, there was no way of knowing how he’d react to surprise.Someone bumping into him by accident could set him off, whether he fell into panic or rage.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, leaving River and West to their little eager-beaver debate.
That guy was losing his fight fast; I could see from halfway across the backyard that he was starting to hyperventilate, and he staggered toward the rosebushes below the high porch.
I picked up the pace and strode past the brat brigade cheering for the sand wrestlers.
Once he was within reach, I positioned myself in front of him.“Let’s get you some privacy, buddy.I’m gonna put my hand on your back and steer you to the side of the house, okay?”
He tensed up further and wouldn’t open his eyes, but he managed a quick nod as he sucked in a sharp breath.
I slipped a hand to his lower back and got him to move.The short end of the house was only some ten meters away, with plenty of trees and bushes.
“We’re almost there,” I said, cupping his elbow too.“What branch are you in?You’re not on deployment.You’re home.”
He coughed and clenched his jaw, and he went back to rubbing at his chest.
I ushered him behind a large thicket of conifers before I put my hands on his shoulders.I didn’t know why, but something told me he needed to be grounded rather than given more personal space.
“What’s your name?”I asked.
He was a big guy, taller than me by at least two or three inches, and he had the muscles to go with it.Maybe a little older than me too.
He swallowed and coughed again.“G-Greer.”
“Okay, Greer—you havin’ a flashback?”
He nodded jerkily.
“Active duty?”
Another nod.
“I want you to hold your breath, Greer,” I told him.“Just hold it.It’ll shift your focus.”
He hauled in another breath.
“That’s great.”I rubbed his shoulders firmly.“You don’t strike me as Navy or Air Force, so I’m gonna guess Army or Marines.Another guess—you’re seein’ desert or mountain terrain everywhere.”He reacted when he was sprayed with beach sand.“No matter.You’re outside DC right now.Plenty of cute guys in the pool.You smell the grass?Can you hear the sprinklers just turned on next door?”
He exhaled harshly and scrubbed his hands over his face.
“One more breath, Greer,” I coaxed.“A deep breath—hold it.And if you can, let it out slowly when you need to.”
He was getting there.
I rubbed his arms next, keeping my touch firm and measured.“That’s it.You’re at a pool party with a ridiculous Christmas theme.There’s a cold beer with your name on it as soon as you’re up for it.”
A breath gusted out of him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.“This is f-fuckin’ stupid.”
