Page 20 of Forever My Soldier

“Yeah, but I enjoyed all my classes and picked up something from every one of them. It makes me better at my job today, or at least I like to think so.”

He nodded. “You never said you like what you do, though. Do you?”

“Does anyone really like what they do?”

“If you’re not happy, then why are you doing it?” he challenged me.

I sighed, not liking where this was going. “Deke, please, you have no right to push me like this. Not anymore.” He had to remember that we weren’t teenagers anymore. I had to grow up and stop resisting my parents.

The wind was picking up and my strands of my hair were beginning to fall. I supposed between this, the motorcycle ride, and the helmet, my hair never stood a chance, did it? He looked over at me, took a hand out of his pocket, and lightly brushed the loose pieces behind my ear.

I blinked and let the moment fade away. I needed to remember as much as I wanted nothing more than for this to be my life—spending time with Deacon, talking to him—it was never going to be the case. We both had to come to terms with that. I had a long time ago, but my heart needed reminding because seeing him and spending time with him in this way was confusing things.

“I’m sorry I asked.”

Remembering what my mother urged me to do in the hospital, the harsh words she spat at me, I swallowed and told him, “It’s okay, but not everyone gets a happy ending, Deke. That’s life.”

“I don’t believe that, not one bit.” He ran a hand through his own hair now. “People get happy endings because they make it so, they work for it, fight for it. So I guess you’re right in that people don’t just get them, but they certain can. It’s all in their control.”

“Are we talking about people or me? Or better yet, you?”

He shrugged and tossed up a pile of sand with his foot, his hands in his pockets again. “I just want you to be happy, Jenna.”

Somewhere in the middle of him talking, we stopped moving and stared at each other. His icy-blue eyes were like a drug to me.

No, Deacon was like a drug to me.

And I was an addict.

I couldn’t seem to stop myself from taking more, from indulging one last time. But it never was the last time because I needed more. One taste of Deacon, one touch wasn’t enough. I wanted to have him, all of him, forever.

I moved the position of my feet in the sand to lean in closer, to get one brief taste of him, to feel what it would be like to have his lips on mine right now, when I stepped on something hard. “Shit!” I cursed aloud, bringing my foot in the air and balancing on my other one.

He grabbed my arm, though, to make sure I didn’t fall. “What is it?”

I looked down and noticed a seashell. I stepped on a seashell.

After I massaged the bottom of my foot, which was still tingling with the sensation of stepping on the seashell, I put my foot down elsewhere and couldn’t help but laugh.

I put a hand over my mouth and laughed some more, Deacon just staring at me, a confused look on his face. “That’s funny to you?”

“It’s not,” I said. It was exactly what I needed, though, to wake me up. To slap some damn sense into me. I couldn’t be with Deacon, period. I couldn’t keep teasing myself. What was my problem? Why was I torturing myself in this way? I knew I couldn’t have him and kissing him, coming back from that would’ve only been hell on wheels. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself and that one kiss would’ve turned into a whole hell of a lot more.

He leaned down and picked it up, brushing the sand off of it. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “You should keep it. Something to remember today by, this moment.”

My expression softened and I licked my lips, grabbing it from him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” I motioned to everything around us, still clutching the seashell in my hand. “For all of this.”

He smiled and for a second there I could see a flicker of hope in his eyes. I closed my own eyes because I knew what I had to do. I had no choice, really. “But this,” I insisted, motioning between us now, “can never happen, okay? I don’t want it to.”

The corner of Deacon’s lips lifted slightly, almost deviously. “I’ve never been a great listener.”

I rubbed my forehead and blew outwardly. “I really wish you would this time. I don’t want to hurt you, so please just let this go, okay?”

Although he nodded, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he could see right through me, which meant he knew I wasn’t being honest with him, or myself.

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