Meet Me Halfway(43)

It was Thursday, my last free evening before a weekend of hell, and I didn’t feel the least bit ashamed about grabbing a blanket and sneaking outside. Not only did I have my usual doubles this weekend, but I had my first guard shift Saturday, and I was officially overwhelmed.

I was considering calling out of the restaurant since I knew a few girls who’d been wanting extra shifts. With Layla paying a portion of the rent and utilities, I was getting ahead with bills and could afford to cut back for at least one weekend.

Climbing onto one of the porch chairs, I ignored the fact that it needed to be wiped off and laid my head back, staring out into the night. I loved how quiet it was here. Not as quiet as my childhood home where we lived miles down a dirt road, but it was so much quieter than any of the places Jamie and I had lived before. Especially the military base.

There was barely any breeze, the warmest night it’d been in a while. Fall could never be considered warm here, but at least it wasn’t freezing.

Deciding to take that as a positive sign, I yanked up my blanket and dragged it out onto the small section of yard next to the driveway.

Spreading it out like a giant rectangular cloud floating on the grass, I kicked off my damp socks and dropped down. It was a little chillier off the porch without the blanket wrapped around me, but I’d come this far so I was determined to follow through.

I stretched my limbs starfish style, and gazed up at the clear, night sky to search for constellations. When I was younger, I used to sneak out at night sometimes, just to look at the stars and see if I could find the Big Dipper.

The sky was one of the things I missed the most about living in the Midwest. The landscape where I’d lived was flatter than a pancake, so the stars reached as far as you could see. Anyone who called the Midwest ugly had never seen a Kansas sunrise.

A familiar smell pulled me out of the fog I’d been lazing in, drifting in my nose, and shooting tingles all the way to my toes. I turned toward it, curling up and wishing I could climb inside and rub it all over me. I loved that man’s damn smell.

Wait.

My eyes snapped open, blinking a few times to clear the spots, only to discover a limb next to me. A limb I’d just been snuggling my face into. I jolted up, upsetting a fleece throw blanket that’d been tucked over me.

“Hey.”

I rubbed at my eyes, trying to figure out what I was seeing. Garrett. Garrett was next to me, lying on his back, with one arm—my cuddle buddy—straight at his side, and the other tucked underneath his head. His legs imitated his arms, with one stretched out while the other was bent at the knee. He looked comfy as hell.

“Hey,” I greeted back.

He laughed, a deep sound straight from his chest that left a weird, warm sensation in my gut. “You should see your face right now.”

I ran my hands across my eyes and down my cheeks, sitting up fully. “I’m a little confused.”

“So was I when I stepped outside and noticed your unconscious form sprawled out in the yard. I about had a heart attack before I noticed the premeditated, perfectly laid-out blanket underneath you.”

I flushed, “Oh God, I’m sorry. How long have I been here?” I pinched the fleece blanket, rolling it back and forth between my fingers.

“Not sure how long you were here before I noticed you, but I’ve been here for about twenty minutes. I didn’t want to wake you, but I also didn’t want to leave you alone.” He tilted his head, looking at me under lowered brows. “It’s not safe to be sleeping in the middle of your yard.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

His eyes lowered farther, “I’m not that much older than you.”

I scrunched my lips, fighting a smile, and looked at the night sky, “You’re what, twenty years older?”

“Eleven,” he growled.

I chuckled. “Seriously, thank you for bringing a blanket and making sure I was safe. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep, I just wanted to look at the stars and breathe for a minute.”

“Yeah, you don’t look so hot.”

“Thanks.”

He curled his stomach into a crunch, smoothly sitting up and gestured at my face, “I meant you look tired.”

Normally, my sensitive ass would’ve felt like crap that a hot guy had pointed it out, but I didn’t. I was tired. “Are you always this smooth of a talker?”

Fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt, he shifted uncomfortably, as if he might actually be embarrassed.

“I’m joking. I look like complete shit, it’s okay, you can say it.”

He huffed a laugh under his breath, slanting his eyes in my direction. “I don’t always sleep well either. I spent a lot of years in the Marine Corps, several of them deployed, and it messed with my ability to sleep for eight straight hours. So, I get it.”

His admission piqued my interest, waking me the rest of the way. I felt like I should’ve known, but as much as media tried to portray all military members as stereotypical “jarheads,” that was rarely the case. You couldn’t always tell.

“How long have you been out?”

“Only a couple years, although it feels like longer.”

I nodded, I didn’t have experience with what being enlisted was like, but I’d lived on an Army base. I’d heard people talk about how difficult it was returning to civilian life. “Were you stationed around here, or did you move here after?”