Page 22 of Issued

Surfing is my escape. A place to get lost among the waves of deep royal blue, floating in a void, free of gravity. To become one with the ocean’s power, synchronizing my board to ride each crest. And to silently sit and stare as smudges of coral, lavender, turquoise and a fiery orange blend together to create a sight so astounding it sweeps me away from my worries.

But seeing Taya on the boardwalk, lithe body coated in sweat and chest heaving, I wanted nothing more than to bend her over the nearest bench and peel those tight little pants down her hips. Reveal every inch of her skin to the sunlight and bathe it clean with my tongue until she whimpered beneath me.

And the scent of apples and sandalwood she left behind was like silken fingers around my cock bringing me to throbbing, frustrated attention, like a pornographic magic trick.

“Fuck.”

I toss my baseball cap across my worktable and stab impatient hands through my hair. Then she tells me she’d taken a job as a waitress. As if I can’t provide for her. I’m still getting paid. I haven’t been discharged yet. And my bank account has enough to support us both.

Pulling out my supplies, I lay the board across the bench and begin to wax the surface of it. Bringing the board back to its usual gleaming perfection relaxes me, the motion of righting my board and cleaning the marks of the day away comforting. Especially after dealing with the trainees. One month down, twenty more weeks to go before I don’t have to look at their damn faces anymore. Nothing like being an instructor for SEAL school.

On the other end of the workbench, my phone vibrates. I want to ignore it and enjoy my solitude for a little while longer, but I catch sight of the name on the caller ID.

Bear.

Setting the wax aside, I pick up and press the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

“Got bored waiting for Marge. How’s the wife?”

Pressing the speaker button, I set the phone aside to free my hands. I grab the bar of wax and get back to work. “Got a job.”

“Good for her. Less time she’s gotta spend around your surly ass.”

I snort.

“Ya tell Taya ’bout the injury yet? She’s not a dumb girl and I can’t see her cutting you down. Not after she kept that ugly-ass comforter you purchased. Still don’t understand why ya didn’t ask for Marge’s help.”

“Don’t need her reporting my health.” My chest tightens like I’m having a heart attack when I recall how wide Taya’s eyes went and how the color drained from her face when I lost my balance. I pause, rubbing my face as if I can wash the stain of weakness away. “Taya can’t find out I’m taking medication or about what happened.”

“Jim, any of us would’ve made the same call. Can’t beat yourself up over it.” Bear exhales loudly. “And listen, I’m proud of you. I know you think you’re invincible, but there’s nothing wrong with needing help.”

“Because I really had a choice,” I mutter under my breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. Bear went with me to the pharmacy and has been texting me when it was time to take the pills like a damn reminder alarm.

A searing pain grows in the back of my head and works its way forward in between my eyebrows. I rub there firmly with the pad of my thumb. On most days, my new meds work great for the migraines. This headache isn’t nearly as bad as it has been in the past, but my body doesn’t seem to want to break its habit of being a pain in my ass. If only the balance issue and the dizzy spells would lighten up as well.

I sigh and remember what the doctor told me. At my last checkup, he said to be patient and that my body needs rest and time to heal. And that I’m lucky there’s no permanent damage, at least none they can see yet.

I glare down at my dick. So much for decreased-sex-drive side effects. If anything, my dick has been out of control lately. And the more Taya supports me, the more my resolve to keep her away dwindles. I just have to remember this is only temporary, just need to keep reminding myself what marriage was like the first time around, and what my being away so much pushed Raychel to do.

“Why not trust Taya a bit?”

“I trusted my first wife and it blew up in my face.” My ears heat with old shame, taking some of the starch from my sails. My eyes squeeze shut and, when I reach up to massage the ache forming at my temples, my fingers run over the haggard lines of my own features.

“Raychel betrayed you, humiliated you, cut you down for not wanting to become an officer and ultimately, broke your heart.” Bear grumbles as if he’d spent hours punching through a concrete wall only to get nowhere. “But you need to stop accusing every woman you meet of being another Raychel. Especially when it comes to Taya. She cares, and you’re being bullheaded.”

The muscles between my shoulder blades clench. I’d thought my ex-wife cared at first too, and look how that turned out. Raychel’s dream was to be an admiral’s wife. Not that I knew it when we dated. She always pushed me, but I thought it was because she saw potential. But I wanted to be out in the field, be with my brothers. And when I expressed that, I saw who she truly was. The affairs started shortly after. Or maybe they were even happening before. My neck cords at the thought.

But I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. In and out. In and out. Just like mytherapisttaught me.

Think happy thoughts.

Something.

Anything.

The only thing that comes to mind is Taya’s smile today.

Laying my wax comb aside, I spray the surface of my board with a nearby spray bottle. Even filled with restless, destructive energy, I can’t bring myself to leave my board half-finished. It isn’t in me. Sometimes, I chomp at the bit of my self-imposed control. I want to do something, something wild and thoughtless, without caring about any consequences, but lately, that always seems to backfire. For now, I’m like a dog caught short by the end of its leash.

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