Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Complicate things?” Ben scoffed. “All we’ve been doing for weeks now is complicate stuff. And you want to go ruin everything and not tell me until it’s too late to talk you out of this insanity.”
“I did not ruin everything.” Maddox had to believe that, and he ducked around Ben to go to the sink, start filling it up with soap and hot water because his hands needed something to do. “I did this for us, and if you’d calm down for a minute, I could explain.”
“For us?” Ben’s voice broke, piercing Maddox’s heart as surely as shrapnel. “How is you leaving me for us?”
“I am not leaving you,” Maddox said firmly as he grabbed a sponge. “Didn’t you mean it yesterday when you said that you wanted to wake up every morning together? Or Saturday night when you said you were in this thing for good? Don’t you want us to work out?”
“Of course.” Ben paced behind Maddox. “But that—us—has nothing to do with you leaving the teams.”
“It has everything to do with me leaving.” Maddox scrubbed hard at the mixer bowl. “Ben, really, how did you expect this to work? Us together in private and keeping it secret from the team forever? Hoping like heck one of us didn’t slip and end up facing major disciplinary action?”
“We can be discreet. And I’m not sure the guys would care—”
“Bullshit.” Maddox whirled to face on him. “It’s not about the guys. It about regulations, Chief. And you know that. If we were together, openly together, no way in hell would the Navy let us serve together. You like the idea of being transferred to Little Creek? Because I sure as hell don’t want that for you. For either of us. And even if we made it through the disciplinary process and they put us on separate teams here, that really what you want? Years of us on differing deployment schedules? Never seeing each other?”
Maddox had spent weeks wrestling with that reality. But apparently Ben was way better than him at playing ostrich. “I don’t see why they’d have to know. Not unless we got married or did something stupid.”
“Yeah, something stupid like making a long-term commitment to each other.” Unable to keep looking at Ben, Maddox had to turn back to the sink, bury his hands and bitterness in the too-hot water.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Ben protested.
“I think you did,” Maddox said to the soap bubbles. “You want it both ways. You want me on the team with you and you want me in your bed and you don’t want anything stupid like commitment and you want to live in fear of it all crashing down because of one wrong statement, one wrong gesture.”
“Yes, goddamn it. I want both, okay? Happy now?” Ben forced Maddox to look at him.
“No.” Maddox met him glare for glare. “Because you’re too much of a realist to really think that could work. So tell me the truth—which do you want more? Me on the team or a future with me, with us? A life together?”
Ben was silent long moments. Moments where a part of Maddox withered and died, eons of loneliness creeping into his soul. Finally, Ben looked away. “Don’t know,” he mumbled. “But I can’t be on the team without you—”
“So that’s a no on a life together.” Maddox’s leg refused to hold him a second longer, and he lowered himself to the floor before he fell down, back against the fridge. “Just be honest on your priorities here. Because I’ve been honest—”
“Ha.” Ben paced in front of him.
“I have. I told you that I wanted a life with someone. A long-term partnership. I told you what I need in my life. And you told me you want that too, but you don’t. Not really. Not if I can’t give you what you really want, and you’d sacrifice that life together just to be able to keep doing missions together.” Maddox rested his head against his knee.
“Isn’t that what it’s all about? We’re SEALs—being out in the field is everything—”
“No. It’s everything to you,” Maddox said wearily. “It’s awesome and exhilarating and it’s been a great twelve years, but it’s not my life. Life is my friendships, my church, the business I want to build. The dreams I want to reach. And it’s okay, really, that your only dream is to keep serving. But that’s not me.”
“You’re the best damn sniper the Navy has. How do you walk away from that?”
“Gratefully,” Maddox answered truthfully. “And Ben, I’m not walking away from you—”
Ben made that scoffing noise again. “Sure as shit could have fooled me. And you didn’t ask me? How the hell is that partnership? Friendship? Man, you owed me.”
“No, I owed me.” Honestly, Maddox hadn’t told him because he’d known, deep down, that Ben would talk him out of this, would convince him to re-up. And that wouldn’t have been fair to either of them. “I owed us. I want a chance with you to make this work. I lo—”