Page 16 of Warrior's Walk

“How?” he asks again, and I know I’ve blown his mind. He never thought he’d see me again. Did he care? Did he even spare me a passing thought?

Unlike him, I knew I would see him again. I knew he was a patient here at Womack, and that he still would be by the time I returned home. The anticipation of seeing him again gnawed at my gut for weeks. Worry, sympathy, and excitement—his reaction to seeing me now validated the ulcer I gave myself.

“Finished my deployment. Came home. I work as a physical therapist here.”

“But in Afghanistan, you were my medic.”

“I’m a combat medic in the Army reserves.”

“No shit?” he says with an impressed smile.

Again, I snicker. I can’t see his dimples beneath the layer of scruff covering his cheeks, which disappoints me to no end.I thought about them many nights as I lay in bed praying for sleep. Even with his unkempt hair and beard, he looks young, healthy, and gorgeous… when he smiles, at least. And I know for a fact, from Liza’s reports, and my own stalking, this is the first time he’s smiled in weeks.

Knowing that makes my heart beat faster. It shouldn’t, but it does.

It’s obvious that I have an effect on him, and I’m only slightly ashamed that I love it so much.

His leg starts to buckle, and he grabs on tighter around my neck. I tighten my hold on his waist, and my jaw tenses when I feel the sharp protrusion of his hip bones. He’s lost so much weight.

I try to untangle his arms from my neck, although I’m loath to let him go. “Let’s get you seated,” I suggest.

“Wait,” he insists, tightening his hold. The fingers of his left hand dig into my neck, but I don’t mind. He holds on tight and salutes me with his right hand, standing as straight and stiff as his spine will allow.

“You don’t have to salute me, soldier.”

“Yeah, I do. You saved my life.”

There’s that lump again in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. “It was my honor.”

He allows me to help him down into his chair, but he stares up at me with this ridiculous smile that reaches his eyes. He’s looking at me like I’m the second coming of Christ or something, and I feel totally self-conscious because we’re drawing the attention of others.

Tony saunters over. “Riggs, you didn’t tell me you knew my patient. You’ve been home for weeks and haven’t said a word.”

I watch as the light dims from Rhett’s bright eyes.Fucking motherfucker.

“You’ve been back for weeks?” Rhett asks.

He isn’t smiling any longer. “Just over two weeks now.”

“Did you… Did you know I was a patient here?”

Of course I knew. I signed off on his medical transport. I knew full well he was headed back to Womack. He can read my answer from the look on my face.

“How come you didn’t come see me?”

“I—” clearing my throat, I try again, “I was busy settling back into my routine and I didn’t want to take your focus from your recovery.” All lies and empty excuses, which I know he sees right through.

“Well, I’m a multitasker. I can manage both you and my recovery. So don’t be a stranger.”

The wounded pride on his face tears at my heart. I can feel his disappointment in me, and I worry that he’s going to turn it around on himself and take it personally. But of course it’s fucking personal.

I stayed away because it felttoopersonal.

“Whatever you want, soldier. Maybe I’ll stop by your room tomorrow, and we can fold paper together.”

Fuck, as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I’ve given myself away. A satisfied smile spreads slowly over Rhett’s face, and the look in his eyes changes to one of understanding. He knows I’ve been stalking him. Or at the very least, checking in on him.

“Sounds good. Bring a handful of brochures with you. I’ll save you a cup of ice cream.”

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