Page 20 of The Long Haul

When she doesn’t say anything, I sense that she’s letting me make the first move. Curious as to why she’s here, and hoping my theory is correct, I take a step back. Aubrey follows, closing the door behind her. Sealing not only us in, but perhaps my fate, too.

Do I get the girl and the future I see for us?

Or is she here to break my heart?

Regardless, this will change everything.

“I wanted to check on you.” As far as starts go, it’s not the worst. It shows she at least cares. In what manner is yet to be determined. And if my fingers are crossed? Sue me. “You were off at dinner. I was worried.”

“A lot on my mind.” An in general truth that doesn’t give away the turmoil churning within me over this woman.

I’m not even this anxious during deployments. I’m aware of the consequences, of course, but I went into the military knowing how any of them could end.

This thing with Aubrey? I have no clue. It’s equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

“Can I help with any of it?”

“That’s a loaded question, angel.” She tilts her head at the endearment, one I’ve never used with her.

“I like that. Angel.”

“More so than Aubrey?” Her eyes widen, reminding me of how Mary looked when she’d get caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to when she was younger. What, exactly, is Aubrey guilty of? And when I find out, if there is anything, would it change how I feel about her?

No.

I have figured out her demeanor always changes at the use of her name. I’m not counting that as a fact because it clearly upsets her and I only want happy things on the list.

“Very much.” I can tell by her crossed arms, a defensive gesture, that she’s expecting me to ask why, so I don’t. “Why is it a loaded question?”

“Because you’re pretty much all I think about.”

“Really?” This is asked in awe.

“I’m sure people think about you all the time.”

“Not really. At least, not in the way you assume.” Whispered, “Or I’d appreciate.”

There are so many layers to unpeel in those statements. So much pain.

Taking her in my arms, where I know she belongs, I willingly bare my soul in an attempt to comfort her.

“My family adores you.”

“They’re wonderful.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not a good person, Carson.”

“I know.” She yanks her head up to look at me so fast I almost get clipped in the chin.

“Because you’re the best. I adore you.”

“Like they do.”

“Nothing like they do.” She frowns at that correction. “I’d hurt any of my brothers if they felt what I do for you.”

“Which is…?”

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