After stepping into my apartment and the lingering cloud of cologne hitting me smack in the face, all I want is fresh air. I take a sharp inhale when we step out of my building. I could blame it on the adrenaline from the jump that made me swim in the cologne rather than me being a dumbass, but it’s probably a little of both. I tossed the stuff in the trash. 

I slip my fingers through hers, determined to make tonight better than it started. “Where are we going?” she asks, squeezing my hand. Stone told me about a place but told me I wouldn’t get in without a reservation. Son-of-a-bitch. I snap my wrist to glance at my watch, dropping my head in disappointment.

“Something wrong?”

Yes. I’m screwing this entire night up. “Well, I had something lined up, but we won’t make our reservations.”

“There’s an Italian food restaurant a few blocks away. Since it’s a gorgeous night, we can walk.” She tugs my arm and gives me an encouraging smile. I’m trying too hard to impress her. Fancy dinners, cologne I wore in high school… could I be any more pussy whipped. Without even getting pussy? It’s time to up my game without forgetting who I am. I’m not the same boy I used to be and she sure in the hell isn’t the same girl I left behind.

I pull her into my chest, our linked hands knot behind her back. She bites her lip again and I watch as her teeth scrape along it. When it pops free, I lean down and suck on it. She opens, and I take full control.

This is who I am.

“So, I guess you’re good with that,” she says when we break apart, her voice breathier than it was a few seconds ago.

“Whatever makes you happy.”

She pulls in a quick breath and her eyes widen, and I glance at her wondering what happened. “What’s today’s date?” Her excitement builds when I tell her. “I know what we’re doing.”

“Care to share?”

“Nope. You’ll have to trust me.”

“That’s asking a lot from someone I don’t know very well,” I tease her. If she only knew, I’m handing her my heart again, full tilt, no holding back. Trust is not an issue.

“Too late. You already told me you liked me.”  She sticks her tongue out.

I lean down so I’m close to her ear. “I do. Now I need to get you to like me back.” Despite the lack of response with words, her flushed cheeks give it away. She likes me too.

She pulls on my arm to walk. “What’d you do today?” The abrupt change of subject makes me smile.

“Jumped out of a plane.”

She lets out an audible gasp and looks up to the sky. “That was you? I watched you from the shelter,” she says, excited. “Who else went? I saw two people jump.”

“Max. You should go with me sometime. You can jump tandem with me.”

“Really?” She turns, her voice jumps an octave. “That’d be awesome. Wait, I’d be entrusting you with my life. Are you sure you’re good enough to jump tandem?”

I think of all the crazy jumps I’ve done. “Ellie, I’m positive my gear weighed more than you when I used to jump. And most of those jumps were in the middle of the night, high altitude where I had to land in an unmarked drop zone, or I’d be dead.”

“When you put it that way, I trust you.”

My chest tightens from her words, a reminder I'm lying to her. I keep telling myself, it’s not bad I’m keeping our past a secret. It’s not like we hated each other and she’s in bed with the enemy. We loved each other. I need to get her to love me again before I come clean.

“Do you miss it?”

“A little. For ten years, I craved adrenaline rushes, so adjusting to civilian daily life has been a little challenging.” After dropping out of the plane that craving came back.

“Would you ever go back?”

And miss out on my chance to be with you?

"No. That craving can be unhealthy. Feeling invincible to the point of having superhuman powers, is a hard reality to live with day in and day out." Especially when one of your brothers, who have the same powers, dies in your arms.

“I can’t imagine the things you saw.”

Sighing, I respond, “I’d suggest not even trying.”

We stroll in silence for the next block. This is why I hate bringing up the military. The glory of the job comes from deep within a person, the pride of fighting for our country. The details are top secret for a reason, they don’t paint a pretty picture.

“Tell me how you did on your tests.”

“I’m a badass and got all A’s,” she says with extra pep in her voice.

“Admit it. It was the sushi.”

When she laughs, I glance over, her dark hair shines in the sunlight, framing her beautiful beaming face. “Are you saying I’m not a badass?” Her sass reminds me of the day we first met. It’s definitely grown with her.

“No, you’re a badass. You have amazing pepper spray skills.”

She pokes me in my bicep. “Don’t you forget it.”

The restaurant is small, ten tables sit close together. Two waitresses and a waiter move from table to table, dropping plates piled high of noodles or rolls. The waiter notices us first when we walk in. “Welcome, please, find a seat anywhere,” he says in a strong Italian accent. When I look around the crowded room, I spot only one empty table.

“How about that one,” I jest, pointing to it.

“That one is perfect.”

Throughout dinner, I catch the owner who I thought was a waiter, frequently glance at me. So often, it’s distracting me from dinner with Ellie. Finally, he wanders over and says, “I thought you looked familiar.” He waves his hands around. Here we go. “And then I remember I read about you.” He pulls out a rolled-up magazine from his back pocket, his tan leather skin opening it and shoving it in my face. “This is you, right?” It’s a cover of Society Magazine and in bright red letters says, ‘American Hero’ with a picture of me wearing the medal, the weight of it heavier than the dead brother I carried back to the helicopter.

I hate everything about that picture.

I glance at Ellie and her smile touches her eyes. Even though she's excited, it does nothing to calm my resentment. I nod, expecting the validation alone will be enough. Instead, his arms flail around more, and he adds an excited noise. By then the entire restaurant is looking over.

“Can you sign it for me?” he asks, placing it in front of me with a Sharpie. I hate that people sensationalize this. There is nothing glorifying about this. “I want to add it to my famous wall.” He points to a wall with at least fifty black framed pictures with autographs of famous people. I don’t belong on that wall.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. We're here trying to have a quiet dinner.” I pick up the pen and cap it, handing it back to him.

“I don’t mind,” Ellie says, cheerfully.

“I do.” My voice is flat, and it pisses me off more when she jerks her head back in surprise. I curse under my breath. “I need a minute.” The chair scrapes across the floor and I brush past the owner. “Excuse me,” I snap over my shoulder and walk out the door.

My feet pound the pavement, pacing back and forth. Everyone read the damn article. Everyone knows we didn’t all come back alive. But do they care what I went through to get that medal? Is there any compassion in their eyes when they meet me. Hell no. They only want a piece of fame. The exact fame I didn’t ask for. I glance up from the ground when I hear the door open from the restaurant. Ellie tilts her head as she walks over.

“You okay?”

“I didn’t mean to screw up dinner.”

“You didn’t. We were finished, anyway. I’m more worried about you.” She places her hand on my bicep.

“I’m fine. I don’t like how people act all star-struck when they recognize me. I’m not a movie star. I’m a SEAL. I was doing my job. The mission was successful, but I’m not a hero. If I was a hero, I would’ve left there with my whole team alive.”

“Oh.” Her voice softens with understanding. “I wish I knew what to say to make it better.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” I pull her into me and kiss her. Her sweet taste suppresses any bitterness left in my mouth. “See, already feeling better.” The anger is fading, but the guilt I can’t control burns inside me. Letting this fester inside me isn't healthy. I need a better way to manage it. The ocean is calling my name. The one place I can let go of everything and refocus.

“Let me go pay so we can get out of here,” I say, walking toward the door.

She yanks on my arm, stopping me. “I already paid.” My smile drops and she shrugs as I stare at her. “I didn’t think you’d want to go back in there.” People pass us by, walking toward the park. My jaw tightens as I breathe through the anger of letting someone who wanted an autograph ruin my dinner. Just sign the damn thing next time. “Kase,” she says, grabbing my chin so our gazes are locked. “I’m a modern woman. I’m okay with paying sometimes.”

“I’m not.”

“I would hope you’re not a modern woman,” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know what I mean. I can promise you that won’t happen again.”

“Cowboy, it’s not like I’m poor and you’re a millionaire. I can pay sometimes.”

I’m an asshole for not being transparent. The hidden truths need to stay hidden for a little longer. “Ellie,” I say, firmly. “I pay. End of story.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine. Now that we’ve established you’re stubborn and old-fashioned, let’s go, or we’ll miss the movie.”

She grabs my hand and tugs for me to walk.  “It surprises me you’re just now noticing.” I squeeze her hand and the sweet smile she flashes reminds me of when we were younger. Innocent. I’ve wondered if my obsession with her is only because of our past. If the love I had for her is blinding me. At the same time, I can’t stop thinking of her. She fills my dreams, my thoughts, my wants and needs. I’m falling in love with her all over again. I’m falling in love with Ellie.

“So what movie are we seeing?” People fill the sidewalks in front of us, carrying blankets and coolers toward the beach park.

“No clue,” she chuckles. “It’s movie in the park night. Is that okay?” She looks at me hesitantly. Like there isn’t anywhere I wouldn’t follow her.

“Sounds fun,” I reassure her.

For two hours, I’ve tried to keep my hands to myself. Keep my thoughts pure through the PG movie with hundreds of kids around us, but with each passing second, each innocent brush of her body against mine, I’ve been fighting a losing battle. My head aches, both of them, from trying to read into her touches. Her bare foot sliding against my calf as she sits up or her hand on my thigh, grip tightening when she laughs at something funny. They might be the simplest, purest touches but in my mind, she’s leaving hints to where tonight will lead. And in my head, it leads to her lying beneath me, screaming my name.

“I loved that movie,” she beams as we walk back to her apartment. “I wasn’t sure how I’d like it since the original is my favorite Disney movie, but wow, it was perfect.” No, it’s not. Little Mermaid is. Her confession catches me off guard. My feet fumble a little as I stare down at her. Catching myself, I shake out of my stupor. “What, you didn’t like it?”

I clear my throat. “No, it was great. Although, I pegged you for the Little Mermaid type.” I regret the words as soon as they clear my lips. 

She flashes a lop-sided grin, but her brows pull together. “It’s a strong second place, but Beauty and the Beast is the winner in my book. Why would you think that?”

With a shrug, I relax my shoulders. “I figured you could relate to the independent woman choosing to live her life how she wants. Chasing her dreams.” The bullshit rolls off my tongue like it’s the truth. It’s not. She loved the movie because she always wanted to be a mermaid. Which is funny now I think about it because she lives at the beach, but doesn’t like to go into it?

She rolls it around in her head and nods. “I guess I can relate. But I can relate to Beauty and the Beast too,” she says, softly.

I grip my heart and gasp jokingly. “Are you calling me a beast?”

Her lip barely raises to a smile as she keeps her face forward and the response pisses me off. I know what she’s thinking. “No. You are definitely not the beast.” Her voice is a whisper and I’m not sure she meant to say it out loud. But she did, and she couldn’t be more wrong.

She’s not the beast.

I am.