Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
My dick was the first to scream in protest.
“I don’t want that,” I said, placing my hand on her arm until she sat back down.
I realized I was the confused one here. I wasn’t making sense. Everything I did contradicted what I’d been saying. That was a direct reflection of the war going on between my mind and my body. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, but I suspected the news wasn’t good.
She pushed her plate aside. “You don’t think I can see through you, Tate?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you see?”
“You’re no different than I am. You’re a boy trapped inside a rugged man’s body. You want to let loose, have fun with me—every part of you but your conscience. Your brain is telling you that you’re too old for me, but you know we’re not all that incompatible. You’re just as lost as I am, just as lonely as I was before we met.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “But we’re not lonely anymore, are we?”
God, it was like she could see inside my head. She’d perfectly articulated the scrambled mess I’d been dealing with. I felt anything but lonely around her. And it’d been a long time since I could say that.
She crossed her legs. “Tell me more about you, Tate.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything you’re willing to share.”
My first thought was to go back to when I was her age. Coincidentally, that’s when my life had turned upside down.
“When I was nineteen, I was playing football in college. I had real potential for a professional career, but then I tore my ACL and never got to the point where I could play again.”
Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. That must have been so hard.”
“It was. My whole life plan had been centered on football. I didn’t know what to do. So, while I wasn’t in good-enough shape to play anymore, I was able to get a waiver for my injury in order to join the military. It was the perfect escape from my failure and also a way I could channel my energy into something useful. I still had so much drive inside me, which I could use to help make the world a better, safer place. At least that’s the way I looked at it back then.”
“Wow.” Her expression was thoughtful. “That’s brave. I admire you for that.”
“I wasn’t as noble as you might think. There’s a big missing piece to the story.” I paused. “Two years before that, when I was seventeen, my girlfriend had given birth to our son. He was born while my high school football career was in full swing. My ex felt like I hadn’t given her the attention she needed while she was pregnant, though I’d tried my hardest. So much was happening at once. I struggled to keep my grades up so I wouldn’t lose my chance to play football in college, and then, there I was, also a brand-new father who had no clue what he was doing.”
“That’s a whole lot to have to go through at that age.”
I nodded. “She and I broke up shortly after she gave birth, and she slowly shut me out of our son’s life, even though that wasn’t what I wanted. I was scared. Scared of failure. Scared he’d grow up to hate me. So when everything went to hell with my injury, joining the military was a convenient way to escape it all.”
Her eyes widened. “How long did you serve?”
“Only six years, but long enough to almost completely miss my son’s childhood. My ex’s new boyfriend, and eventually husband, became the only father he really knew.” I closed my eyes a moment. “In retrospect, I can see that I was suffering from serious depression. Depressed about my football career ending. Depressed about not feeling worthy of being my son’s father. But then things got even worse.” I hesitated.
She placed her hand on my arm. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
“There was an accident. We lost two guys in a convoy I was leading.” I stopped for a moment to gather my emotions. “While it wasn’t directly my fault, I still blamed myself.”
“Oh my God.” She squeezed my arm.
I placed my hand over hers. “After that, my brain never felt right. I couldn’t focus, and that began to be a liability. They honorably discharged me due to PTSD.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her eyes pained.
I nodded. “I think it worked out for the best. I needed to go home and face everything I’d been running from.”
She looked away. “I feel stupid now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I feel dumb for thinking you and I were not all that different. Because what you went through? I can’t imagine it. I’ve had such a charmed life.”
“I don’t mean to make it sound like things have always been tough for me. I consider myself pretty lucky. I mean, I’m here, right? I’m healthy. There are much harder things to go through than what I did.”