Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
It’s never long enough.
Now that Kit’s a civilian, he’s in a position where he’s able to drop work quicker than ever before. I hope Brady is able to do the same.
When I land, Kit’s beaten me to it, and he waits for me outside my gate.
“What took you so long?” he asks as I practically tackle him into a hug. He stays upright though. If I’d done that to Brady, he’d probably fall.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that your flight was one hour and mine was five?” We make our way toward the exit. “You still got Brady’s address after sending him that care package after Florida?” I had to laugh when I heard about that.
Kit sent a “Congratulations surviving your first year of law school, but if you’re going to keep up the pace you’re going, you’re going to need this” and filled a box full of protein bars and other nutritious snacks. Brady called me to complain about Kit expecting him to eat kale chips. It was cute in the way he screamed, “Kale chips, Prescott! This is unacceptable.”
“Unless he’s moved.” Kit stops walking. “Do you think he’s moved? He hasn’t said anything, but you talk to him more than I do. He was staying with an uncle, wasn’t he?”
“Cousin, but it’s his uncle’s house.”
“Well, hopefully, his family still lives there and can tell us where he is if he’s moved out.”
We’re both buzzing with excited energy as the car drops us off, and Kit shoves me as we walk up to the expensive brownstone. “You’re practically vibrating.”
“It’s Brady. And you. And I’ve been at sea for six months.”
Deployment is often lonely, but the last two have been especially hard. I love my job, I love being a SEAL, and I would never want to give it up, but I can’t help noticing that the shine it used to have hasn’t been as bright since Kit left.
I’ve been telling myself it’s because we went through BUD/s together. We had each other’s backs for years. He wasn’t only a teammate but my kindred spirit.
I thought I’d be over it by now, but I’m not.
And then there’s Brady, who not only lives in my head rent-free but has wormed his way into my thoughts as often as Kit.
Kit and Brady are the only two men who have the power to destroy me, but I can’t walk away.
Proof of that comes when Kit rings the doorbell, and the sound of the door opening makes butterflies and anticipation bubble up inside me. Only the person who answers isn’t Brady.
It’s a young guy, college-age probably, with dark hair and brown eyes. He’s tall and lanky and looks nothing like Brady. Though he’s told us if he refers to cousins and uncles, they most likely aren’t related by blood. I can’t think of the cousin’s name Brady lives with. It’s Seven. Or Three? It was a number. I just can’t remember which one.
“Is Brady here?” Kit asks.
The kid frowns. “He, uh, usually comes home late on Friday nights. Was he expecting you?”
Kit and I look at each other.
“We’re friends from Cali,” I say. “We wanted to surprise him while we were in town.”
“What are your names? I’ll message him and—”
“Mind if you only tell him that he’s needed at home? Are we okay to wait for him in his room?” I ask.
Again, with the frowning. “I don’t know either of you, so I’m not just going to let you inside my house.”
I take out my phone and open my photos app to find a pic of the three of us together—that’s safe for other people’s viewing. “We’re not stalkers or anything.”
“That sounds exactly like something a stalker would say, and if you really knew Brady at all, you’d know who his brother is and that this isn’t the first time randoms have shown up here hoping to catch sight of a Talon or Miller.”
Finally, I get to a photo that’s not of us naked. It was taken in the Catskills the night after we got there. It’s the three of us on that back porch, on another moonlit night. Brady’s in between us and looks so fucking happy.
I hand him my phone. “See? We know him.”
“You could’ve met him on the street and asked for a selfie.” And then he does the worst possible thing he could do. He swipes.
“You might not want to—”
But it’s too late. He cringes as he sees his cousin doing things—naked, sweaty, sexy things—and quickly hands back the phone. “Okay, you know him. Come in and make yourself at home while I go bleach my eyes.”
“I tried to warn you,” I say as I step past him. “And to be fair, you broke a cardinal rule. You never swipe when you’re looking at someone else’s photos.”
“Lesson learned.” Brady’s cousin closes the door behind us.