Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(100)



Alright, so this isn’t too bad. I can handle a day of shopping as long as I’m with Charlotte. And The Cheesecake Factory is delicious.

“What else?” I ask as I go around the counter and stand next to him as he writes furiously.

“Dude, this is going to be epic. I am such a f*cking genius. You better name your first born after me or something,” he tells me as he continues making the list, quickly coming up with ten things that he swears will have Charlotte in love with me by the time I finish all of them. We work together, crossing things out and moving them around until we have a pretty good list of things for me to do to win Charlotte over.

I know I’m going to regret this. Somehow, some way, this is all going to come back and bite me in the ass, but I’m desperate. I know I’m a chickenshit and should just come right out and tell her, but that’s not happening. This needs to be handled delicately. Tyler is the only person who knows how I feel about Charlotte. If anyone finds out about this before I’m ready… Well, let’s just say having my mom tell my eighth grade English teacher at conferences that when I was little I used to walk around telling strangers my dad had a huge wiener will seem like the best day of my life.

Yep, totally going to regret this.

Sneak Peek: Fraternizing by C.C. Brown

Copyright?2013

Chapter 1

Alex

"Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!"

It was all I heard as I threw back tequila shot after tequila shot. My head was pounding with every chant that left those f*ckers' mouths, and I knew at any second I was probably going to puke every ounce of that shit up, but through the incessant bangs in my head I told myself not to give these *s the satisfaction. I would keep that shit down if it killed me.

"Come on, Staff Sergeant select. Throw 'em back, motherf*cker!"

God, I loved my brothers, but half the time I hated them.

Like now.

Finding out I was selected to pick up staff sergeant in the Marine Corps was not only a reason to celebrate, but a reason to get downright trashed. These guys, my brothers in arms, promised me from the second I received the good news that tonight would be the night that I cleaned the bar out. And by the looks of things, they weren't lying.

Coyotes was jam-packed. Not only was it a Friday night, but with selection news being thrown around, and being stationed in the f*cking boonies of Twentynine Palms, everybody had a reason to come out and party. This place was the Marines hangout. There was always the Enlisted Club—or E-Club—on base, but f*ck it, we were too restricted there, and these f*ckers wanted to kill my liver tonight, so to town we went.

The usual suspects had packed the bar. As always, there were the boot—the new Marines who waited every payday to come blow their money on alcohol, only to have to sit in their lonely-ass barracks rooms playing Call of Duty and other simulated war shit when they ran out of money. Who was I to stop them? They hadn't seen a lick of combat and wanted to live it through their television screens. Have at it.

Then there were the military groupies, tag chasers, or whatever name you felt like calling them. Yes, they exist. All they want to do is f*ck anything in uniform in hopes that they can land themselves some benefits and a stay-at-home gig. They scour military hangouts in military towns, and in Twentynine Palms any bar is a military hangout. Normally, I steer clear of these "ladies," but occasionally my weakness prevails and I end up giving in, but I always protect my shit. Babies with one of these types would be my worst nightmare come true.

Tonight they were all over the place. Tiny miniskirts barely covering the cheeks of their ass, pieces of material used to cover tits, and plenty of makeup, hoping to attract some dude in need of a quick f*ck with hidden, long-term consequences. Most of them, in this town anyway, were divorced from a Marine and hoped to nail another one. They disgusted me to no end, but hey, sometimes I just needed a quick lay and if they were available, why not?

Then, there were the guys like me. The single Marines who had been around for a bit, just letting loose and having a good time. Even if that fun meant I might end up in the ER getting my stomach pumped, I didn't care. I was moving up the ranks faster than I could have ever imagined.

When I set out to join the Marine Corps, it was sheer luck that I got in, and it changed my life for the better. My career in the Corps was owed to my recruiter who worked tirelessly for me, pulling so many f*cking strings. He made sure that I knew that his name was on my shit and that he would find me if I ever embarrassed him. I knew then that I had made the right choice and that I wanted to uphold the Marine Corps mantra of Honor, Courage, and Commitment. I've poured every ounce of my being into my career; volunteering for combat deployments, leading junior Marines, mentoring, and now teaching.

Being an instructor at the School of Communications was not my dream assignment, but I took it in stride because like anything with the Corps, they assign you where you're needed. I knew that, and although it wasn't what I wanted, it was where I was needed. So when the orders were passed down to me, I packed up, shut my f*cking mouth, and did what I was told to do.

Picking up staff sergeant in just six short years wasn't on my list of goals. I knew it could happen, but I never expected it to happen. Now that it had, I was beyond f*cking thrilled and needed to party the way these *s intended because it was worth it. The pain and suffering I would feel in the morning was well worth the bullshit I was putting my body through tonight.

Madeline Sheehan's Books