Page 25 of Lavender Moon

“Another one!” Ryan shouts, raising his hand to signal the waitress, but I interject.

“Not me, I’m good.”

“What?” His jaw drops. “Shane, you ship out in a few weeks, this is no time to be a fucking pussy.”

“Hey now,” Parker speaks up. “Maybe he’s not being a pussy but rather wants to pace himself so that he’s not too soft to actually get some of it later!”

“I was going to say I don’t want to be too plowed to make the hour drive back, but sure, let’s go with that.” I cross my arms over the table with a lazy half-smile.

“No way, man,” Ryan chides. “We’re getting a hotel. Live it up! You’ve got a lot of oats to sow before you deploy. Build that stock pile, bro.”

“Like I’m going to sleep in a bed with any of you fucks,” I joke, sweeping the neck of my beer bottle at all of them.

“No worries, I plan on going home with a random lady tonight. That frees up some space,” Parker assures us.

“Is Miranda still coming out?” I ask Alex about the girl he’s been casually seeing in our hometown that he’s considering getting serious with.

“Yeah, she’s going to call when she’s close.”

“Doesn’t she always?” Ryan spews and laughs hysterically at his own stupid joke while I knock back the rest of my beer in dismay.

With my bottle empty, I turn in my seat to see if I can spot our waitress. Instead, my gaze is drawn to a brunette beauty across the way, sitting at a high-top table. Her little dress with the black and grey zigzag design allows me to see she’s got legs for days, and though I can only see a side profile at this moment, I’m feeling a serious twinge at the sight of her; something intuitive. She’s so animated as she lays her palms on the table top and leans forward to hear what one of her girlfriends is saying before her eyes crinkled closed in laughter.

When her long, closed lashes accentuate her delicate cheekbones, I get another twinge, this time with a flash.

I know you.

When a waitress stops by their table, the girl turns in my direction to regard her… and then boom. The stunning realization of who I’m looking at hits me like a nuclear blast I’ve had no way to train for. When she smiles up at the waitress while tucking a strand of her soft brown hair behind her ear, all the blood goes rushing to my heart when I see that it’s unmistakably Luna.

There she is. That’s her.My mind races right along with the blood in my veins.

Having no clue what my buddies are chattering about around the table, because all I can see is Luna and the changes she’s clearly embraced over the last three years, and the way they swirl beautifully with the ways she’s stayed the same. Like that bubbly smile and the way she talks with her hands. The coy smile that goes along with her laugh. It’s all so surreal, and I’m still not completely sure I’m not dreaming or imagining her. My chest is tight, not wanting to move air in and out, and I can feel the rest of my body buzzing with a nervous excitement.

This is the moment I always fantasized about to get me through the drills when they were at their hardest, but I never thought it would actually come true.

I have to see her.

No matter how we left things between us, not taking this once-in-a-lifetime chance to go to talk to her is not an option. Even if she smacks me or tells me to get fucked, I would never regret going over to say hello. I would only regret not doing it.

I polish off my beer and after I set it back down, I tap my knuckles on the table top a couple of times to get Alex’s attention.

“I think I see someone I know,” I talk loudly over the din of the music and crowd.

“Yeah right, you just see your next conquest of the night,” he guffaws, and it heats my blood slightly.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl loudly over the noise and point at him as I start backing away. On a normal night, he wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, but when it comes to Luna, apparently I never lost my protective instinct.

I side step through the crowd of faceless strangers, all of them clueless that I’m inching towards the girl I never stopped thinking about.

When there’s finally a short and clear line between me and her, I realize I have no idea what I should even say. All of a sudden, the usual acceptable salutations seem so incredibly awkward and stupid.

With the clock ticking, I finally decide to go with a nonverbal tactic. I’m not sure how she’s going to react to this particular greeting, especially from me after three years, but here goes.

Before any of her friends can warn her that someone is behind her, I reach forward with both hands and tickle either side of her rib cage. The action makes her jump a foot off her stool and let out a shriek. Before even looking behind her to find the culprit, she puts her hands over mine. Probably to anchor them so they don’t continue their assault, but I like the feeling all the same.

“Oh my God,” she pants out, “what the…” she turns her body just enough to look over her shoulder, and her lips part when she sees her attacker.

I hear a sharp breath hitch in her throat as her eyes search my face.

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