Page 23 of Sparrow

There’s a pull between us. It feels like an electric current moving from my body and into his, drawing us closer while we stand a few feet from each other. I’ve felt it since the moment I laid eyes on him yesterday. I wonder if he can feel it too.

“Well, I hope that long, interesting story is in your rearview mirror for good, because anyone or anything that could lessen the beautiful glow, you have always had around you, doesn’t deserve your presence or energy.”

My lips part as I take a deep breath. How can one person, one man, have such an effect on me just from speaking?

“Thank you for saying that. Moving forward has been a monumental task, but it’s getting easier every day.” Especially now that I’ve seen you again.

“Let’s hope it stays on that path then.”

“Can I make you some coffee? I’m sorry to tell you this, but she slept over last night. I had my way with her.”

“Lucky coffee.” He laughs when he sees my eyes widen. If he only knew what else those two words did to my body. “I’d love some coffee, thank you.”

“How do you take it?”

“I’ll leave that wide-open door for innuendo alone and just say black.” His smile could ruin me.

“Black coffee coming right up. I’ll let you get to work. I am paying you after all. Chop-chop.” I give him a wink before turning back inside, heading straight for the kitchen.

***

(Grayson)

Georgia in the summertime has a way of being so fucking hot you feel like your body is going to literally sizzle in the sun. Add in the humidity and it’s like a sick version of hell.

I’ve lasted about six minutes outside, drilling holes for the new wiring and I can’t take it anymore. Without even considering a thing, I pull off my shirt and fling it over the railing.

The relief is instant when the breeze from the ocean whips over my too hot skin.

I hear the screen door open and shut, and the pad of bare feet on the wooden porch quickly follows, growing closer and closer to me before they abruptly stop.

My back is to her and she isn’t speaking, which can only mean one thing. One thing I wasn’t prepared to discuss, but didn’t even consider when I took my shirt off. My scars.

I turn to face her, and sure enough, her eyes say everything.

“If you’re going to ask, I think I need that coffee first.”

“I’m sorry. Here.” She passes me the cup. “I didn’t mean to stare, I just wasn’t expecting it. You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“Sit with me?” I nod toward the front steps.

“Sure.”

We make our way over and I sit on the top step while she sits two steps down and turns sideways, looking up at me. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t rush me. She just waits for my truth.

“I served five tours in Afghanistan in the seven years I was in the military. I saw things and did things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

I look down at her and see her squeeze her coffee mug tightly and still, she just listens.

“I watched children blow themselves up. I watched mothers shield their babies from the horror going on around them. I killed people, Mills.”

“You were doing your job, Gray. You were following orders and protecting yourself and this country.”

“It doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.”

With that, she simply nods and allows me to continue.

“There was a warehouse about twenty miles from our base. My sergeant wanted it cleared to make sure there was nothing we needed to worry about. It was supposed to be an easy task. In. Clear. Out. Simple,” I repeat the mantra that was playing in my head when my world changed forever.

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