Page 4 of Leave

“Don’t mention it.” He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You know, instead of sushi, why don’t we hit up the taco rice place up the street?” He tipped his head toward the door as he pushed himself off the wall. “I could use the walk.”

“Oh. Uh.” It was a simple enough decision. Walk or stay? Sushi or taco rice?Just pick one, Nolan. Jesus.But my head was swimming in ways I couldn’t explain, so I just mumbled, “Taco rice sounds fine. I’ll, um…” I patted my pockets. “Shit. Let me get my wallet.”

I headed back up the hall before he could say anything. I grabbed my wallet off my nightstand, and I paused to give theSave the Datecard a wary look. I was going to have to reply to it sooner than later.

Not tonight, though. My roommate and a plate of taco rice were waiting for me, and I could think about the invite, the wedding, and all that bullshit later.

I returned to the living room. Riley was in the entryway, but he hadn’t put on his shoes yet.

“Are we still going?” I asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are. But…” He cleared his throat. “Before we go, you want to…” He nodded down the hall. Toward our bedrooms.

My insides were still all twisted into knots, and sex was the farthest thing from my mind. Even consensual sex with someone I liked. My skin crawled just thinking about anyone’s hands on me.

But at the same time, Riley had respected my boundaries from the start, and I had alotof them. I could trust him; I’d be with someone who’d stop the instant he caught a whiff of resistance from me.

And damn it, I always felt good after he was done with me. And while he was working his magic.

Maybe that was what I needed more than anything—the reminder that everything was safe and consensual now.

So I cracked a grin. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Chapter 3

Riley

November on Okinawa meant the air was slightly cooler than usual, but still warm enough for shorts and T-shirts. Maybe a light jacket if the wind was really coming in off the Pacific, but this evening it was the usual comfortable breeze that kept the humidity bearable.

Walking along the palm-tree-lined road to the taco rice place, I was more off-balance than I usually was after we’d exchanged orgasms. Nolan always made me come hard—especially when he sucked me off like he had this evening—but it was when I’d gone down on him that left me… uneasy.

It had taken him awhileto come. There were a couple of brief moments where he’d even started to lose his hard-on, which was really unusual unless he’d been drinking.

Both times, I’d been about to stop and ask if he was okay, but then he’d moaned and begged me to keep going, so I had. I’d done everything I knew he liked, and eventually, about the time I’d started losing feeling in my jaw and tongue, he’d come. Afterward, he’d seemed relieved, but not in the way he usually was after an orgasm. It was closer to what I’d expect from someone who’d been anticipating bad news but received theopposite. That bone-deep relief that something terrible wasn’t happening, rather than the pleasant afterglow of an orgasm.

I was curious, and also deeply concerned. Though our relationship was as casual as could be, I did care about him, and something was obviously going on. Something related to what had come in the mail.

As we walked, passing walled homes with ceramic ShiShi dogs guarding the gates, I stole glances at him and tried to read him. His expression was as closed off as it ever was; I was pretty good at reading people most of the time, but Nolan didn’t send up many signals. His cats could get him to crack smiles and let out his inner softie. When we were fooling around, he was passionate and vocal. Selfless, too; my God did that man enjoy giving head.

But most of the time, he embodied the stoic Marine persona. He rarely raised his voice. He didn’t react much to things we saw on TV or heard on the news. About the only thing that could make some real emotion shine through was if one of the cats was doing something that concerned him, like when Arrow had been sick recently. Then he’d worn his worry on his sleeve until he was sure his baby was okay.

Nolan had more walls up than anyone I’d ever known, and he rarely if ever let any emotions out or let anyone see in. Even when we fooled around, he kept the walls in place. We’d never kissed. We never took off more clothes than needed to get access to each other’s dicks. We sure as hell never cuddled or exchanged affectionate touches. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t particularlyintimate.

So I was used to Nolan being closed off and reserved. Tonight, though…

Tonight, something had shaken him enough to go right past all those defenses.

What is going on inside that head of yours, Staff Sergeant?

We reached the end of our street and turned. Half a block later was the tiny café, its sliding glass door guarded by a comically huge pair of brightly painted ShiShis. As soon as we stepped inside, we were met with the familiar aroma that could only be a taco spice blend. My mouth watered; I fucking loved this place.

Though the café was always densely packed on the weekends when people were pregaming before hitting the bars, it was quiet during the week, including tonight. We found a table outside, and the owner—a sweet old lady who spoke just a tiny bit of English—handed us the weathered, laminated menus. They were, as were most menus on Okinawa, printed in both Japanese and English with pictures of the various dishes.

Not that either of us even needed to look at the menu anymore, and the owner gave a knowing little laugh as we ordered our usual—taco rice entrees with Orion beer for him and orange Fanta for me.

The food came almost as quickly as the drinks, and we dug in. Taco rice was basically a taco salad over rice. I’d been skeptical of it when I’d first come to the island; what the fuck was so special about that? Turned out it was seriously good, though, and it was always exactly enough to be filling without leaving me overstuffed. I even made it at home some nights when I didn’t feel like going out; as inept as I was in the kitchen, I could handle taco rice.

Nolan didn’t seem too interested in his tonight, which had even more klaxons blaring in my head. If there was one thing this man could eat even when he felt like shit, it was taco rice. Tonight, he just sort of picked at it.