Page 19 of Elas

Another loud laugh barks out of me at his pleased smile. “A long time ago… fifty, sixty years now, an officer I knew had recently received his second stripe. I was invited to the party, which was a big deal because I was only wearing four rows.”

“Wait, back up… stripes and rows?”

I gesture at the three golden vertical lines on my chest. “Soldiers are awarded rows for achievements and time in service. After you reach five, you’re promoted to an officer and your five rows are turned to a single stripe. As an officer, you earn stripes, but the progression takes much longer.”

“Okay, so he outranked you.”

“Correct.”

“Hold on… that means you outrank Chief Aeliphis?”

“Right again.”

“Why do we call her Chief while you’re just called Officer, then? Why does she get a special title?”

“I outrank her, but she holds formal status in the clinic. The title of Chief isn’t related to her rank, but to her position. It’s also why she makes the rules inside the clinic. Icouldpull rank on her. If I did, she’d have to follow my orders or take it up the chain. But I respect her role as the leader of her area, and I’d only do that if it was necessary.”

“Alright, I think I’m up to speed… back to your story.”

“Yes sir,” I mutter, and he grins. “Okay, so there was a party at a club on base, and I was one of the lower-ranking soldiers there. Naturally, I was already a little intimidated.Another four row found me, and we hit it off. We, uh… ditched the party and snuck into a closet upstairs. He was, um…” I cough as my cheeks flush, and August’s smile is wicked as he waits for me to continue. “Let’s just say we were in a very compromising position when someone started pounding on the door. I didn’t even have time to pull my pants up before the door swung open. The officer hosting the party stood there, and his jaw fuckingdropped. Straight to the ground.”

“Oh, no,” August whispers, kicking his feet under the table as I laugh.

“It gets worse,” I groan. “The guy in front of me was still bent over as he said, ‘Sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like.’”

“Sweetheart?” August gasps, his palm flying over his mouth.

“Oh, yeah. I was standing there with my dick out while a crowd collected at the door.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you think I did?! I fuckingbolted.I penguin-waddled through the crowd while fighting to get my pants around my waist so I could run.” August’s face is pink with his laughter, clutching his stomach. “It tookyearsbefore people forgot about that one.”

“I bet,” he chuckles, swiping a finger at the corner of his eye.

“Alright, doc. I spilled, now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, good grief,” he groans. “Alright, alright. I had a thing for this girl, and I invited her to come along with me into the forest to gather some herbs and mushrooms. They weren’t even for me. They were for the kitchens, butI volunteered to pick them. It was an excuse to invite her out, you know? It was sprinkling, but it was hot, so neither of us cared. Then I saw it.”

I grin at his dramatic pause. “That’s my cue, huh? What’d you see?”

“The world’s most beautiful flower,rightthere at the edge of the hill. I jogged over to kneel and grab it for her, but the dirt was wetter than I thought, and I kind of… slipped.” I snort and his grin spreads until it digs into his cheeks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And once I started sliding, I couldn’t stop. I ended up faceplanting about halfway down and rolled the rest of the way. Spent the next five minutes trying to climb back up, and slid back to the bottom twice before I finally made it up. I didn’t realize there was a blade of grass stuck in my teeth until we got back to camp.”

“So, did you get the girl?”

He deadpans me with a dry glare. “I did not, in fact, get the girl. Don’t know if it was the mud on my face or the purple bruises that covered my body for the next week, but she gave me space after that.”

“Her loss,” I say with a wave of my hand, and we both chuckle. “You’re into girls, then?”

He shrugs, his cheeks still tinged with a flush from the laughter. “I’ve dated men and women. That never really mattered to me. Personality and kindness are more important, and with those as my standards, let’s be real—there aren’t a ton of options.”

My gaze drifts over the symmetrical lines of his face. His pink lips with their sharp Cupid’s bow, his broadshoulders, and those bright, expressive eyes. “Trust me, doc. You’ve got options.”

“Oh, my goodness… you’re sweet,” he mutters as he ducks his head, biting at his lower lip. I love seeing how flustered he is from a simple compliment. Grinning to myself, I stand and pull the brownies from the bottom of the bag. He forgets his embarrassment as his eyes grow wide. “Is that…chocolate?”

“It is,” I say as I sit one on his plate.

“I take it back… you aren’t sweet. You’re damn near perfect.”

---