Page 24 of Sparrow

“He sent four of us. Three of our men and I were sent out into the night to clear this stupid, fucking warehouse.” I look down into my coffee before I say the next words. “We hit an IED on the side of the road. It decimated the entire right side of the vehicle. Blew it completely to shreds. While my scars say otherwise, I was the lucky one. At least I’m still breathing. My three brothers in arms, though? They were killed instantly.”

“Grayson, I’m so sorry.” She places her mug down and then wraps her hand around my forearm.

“I took a shard of metal from the bomb itself through the right side of my lower back, directly into my kidney, and I was burned pretty severely. Multiple surgeries became my norm for a while, but through the magic of modern medicine, here I am.”

“And you’re okay? No lingering issues?” she asks with genuine concern.

“I have to see a doctor every six months or so, just to make sure that kidney is still functioning properly. I had a rough go of things mentally when I first came home after being discharged, but that’s in the past.” I place my hand over hers.

“And the tattoos? Before or after your injury?” She uses her free hand to fiddle with her necklace.

“After. I told you, when I gave you that necklace, everything that sparrows symbolize. When I got this tattoo, I was in desperate need of those things, and I can’t lie to you, Mills, I thought of you every time I saw them.”

“I think that’s why I never took this necklace off. I didn’t want to lose the connection to here. To you.” Her honesty makes my heart sing.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

The ocean is crashing just a hundred yards from where we are sitting, making it the only sound we hear as we fall into a comfortable silence. I’m drawn closer to her. I have to physically stop myself from leaning down and doing what I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on her again—kiss her.

I want to kiss our pasts away. Kiss our fears away. Kiss my way back into her heart.

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Gray. The trust you’ve shown me means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

“Does that mean I’ve earned the right to take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah, like a date.” There’s no point in me bullshitting her, the way some people do in these scenarios by saying, ‘No, it’s not a date. We are just two old friends catching up.’ No. I’m absolutely asking her out on a proper date.

I see so many things flash over her face. Uncertainty, fear, intrigue, happiness, but none of those are giving me an answer. Did I cross a line?

My question soon has its answer when that beautiful smile replaces all the rest.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

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