Chapter 4 - Monica

As Ramsey and I head back over to the table, I can’t believe I’m doing any of this. Meeting this SEAL— who was a stranger to me until today— for a drink, hanging out at a bar with a bunch of guys who clearly don’t want me here, letting him touch me in public.

And touching him back. In fact, I suppose I started things by putting my hand on his.

It’s so not like me. But I can’t seem to help myself. What started out as curiosity— or was that just an excuse?— has grown to become something closer to interest, with a lot of attraction thrown in for good measure.

Maybe I’m tired of being the good girl, doing everything right. Perhaps it’s time for a change.

I feel sure that things will still be awkward with everyone, and I wish that somehow Ramsey and I could be alone. But when we get back, the attitude at the table is more friendly and fun than it was when I first arrived. Apparently, the alcohol has kicked in, and everyone has loosened up a bit.

“Long Island, nice choice,” says one of the guys, nodding at my drink.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Ramsey says.

Every time I hear his voice, my spine tingles; my whole body tingles. I’m glad that he likes my drink choice, because I only ordered what my college friends and I used to get on special during girls’ nights out. I don’t drink often, but I need some liquid courage in this situation.

“So, is everyone here going on the next deployment?” I ask, trying to get to know them, even though what I really want to ask is how long the couples have been together. But I know that’s way too much of a “girl question” to ask around a bunch of guys who already make fun of me for being too “girly.”

“Everyone but Jensen and Mark here,” someone says. I don’t know any of their names yet, and none of them introduce themselves to me. “They’re private contractors.”

“I see. And I’m guessing by the looks of things that Jensen and Ramsey and…”

Crap. I forget his name.

“Harlow,” his girlfriend, Whitney, fills in for me, gracefully. She even anticipates my question. “And yes, they’re brothers.”

“Brothers in life, brothers in combat,” Jensen says. “I served with the SEALs until recently. I was there when Harlow nearly got blown up.”

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Someone who hasn’t heard of the great and heroic Harlow!” Ramsey announces, and everyone laughs.

“Shut up, dude,” Harlow says, but it’s good- naturedly.

“Harlow was significantly injured when a rescue helicopter they were in was shot down in enemy territory,” Whitney explains. “He made a remarkable recovery and turnaround.”

I’m impressed, and trying to think of how to express it, when Jensen says, “Yeah, and all the while he was boning his physical therapist.”

Whitney blushes and shakes her head, tsking at him, and I guess, “So, that must have been you?”

“Sure was,” she says, grinning. “But he really didn’t need me anyway. He was fine all on his own.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Harlow says, pulling Whitney into his lap on the bar stool. “I’d never be fine without you.”

“Oh my God,” says one of the airmen, pretending to gag. “Get a room, you two.”

“We have a room and will be going there after this,” Harlow says, holding up his drink for a toast. But the other guys just roll their eyes at him.

As the evening progresses, the team shares more stories of the brothers’ antics over the years, as well as tales about their unit in general. I’m touched by their comradery and loyalty. And I’m glad we’re all actually getting along.

Midway through some stories, some guys show up— not in uniform but instead wearing leather motorcycle gear. Jensen introduces them as his MC friends, which Riley explains to me means “Motorcyle club. Don’t say gang or he’ll get offended.” They look a bit rough, but seem very nice, and I’m glad I’m no longer the only outsider to the group.

After a while, one of the MC members says, “C’mon Jensen, you know we came to collect you. Let’s head to Billy’s.”

“Not Billy’s,” Harlow groans.

I look at him inquisitively. Billy has to be a fellow SEAL.

“It’s another dive bar that Jensen and his motorcycle friends like to frequent,” Ramsey exclaims. “Billy’s Long Bar.”

“Divier than this?” I ask, and everyone laughs.

“Believe it or not, yes,” Harlow says. “My girl doesn’t let me go.”

“Very funny,” Whitney says. “You’re free to do whatever you want. You’re just not free to have a happy girlfriend and do what you want, simultaneously.”

We all laugh.

Harlow obediently says, “You boys have fun. And you too, Riley. Hang on tight on that bike. My brother drives like a bat out of hell.”

“Very funny,” Riley says. “And I know your next joke, from hearing it one too many times: the best way to solve the problem of too many lawyers is to put as many as possible on the back of a motorcycle while your brother’s driving it.”

There are laughs all around.

“It was great to meet you,” Riley gives me a wave. “And seriously. I bet you think it’s strange that a lawyer hangs out with a bunch of motorcycle club members, which I understand. I never thought I’d be riding around on a motorcycle myself. The things we do for love, right?”

“Right,” I say, as if I would know.

The last thing I did for love was wait around on a guy who didn’t really want me. There was no motorcycle involved, nor much excitement at all, by the end.

Most of the other guys get up too, some saying they’re going to Billy’s and others saying that those guys are crazy for staying out late the night before training, and that they themselves are going to be good little responsible service members and go home and go to bed. Riley and I stand up and exchange a quick hug before they take off.

Soon, it’s just the four of us: Harlow, Whitney, Ramsey and me.

As if sensing something, Whitney elbows Harlow and says, “Honey, let’s go home. You have a very long day tomorrow, and I want to make sure to get in my snuggle time.”

“She calls it ‘snuggle time,’” Harlow says, with a wink. “Isn’t that cute? She doesn’t want everyone to know she’s a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets.”

“Harlow!” Whitney protests, and slaps him on the butt, playfully.

They’re really cute together.

“I’ll just wait with the lady until she finishes her drink,” Ramsey says, and now it’s Whitney’s turn to wink at me.

I’m on my second Long Island, and it’s difficult for me to finish it.

“See you tomorrow,” Harlow says to me, or to Ramsey— or maybe to both of us.

Whitney hugs me and says it was nice to meet me, and then they’re gone.

“They’re a nice couple,” I say, mostly to have something to talk about, now that it’s just Ramsey and me.

I don’t want things to feel awkward. But as I feel Ramsey’s hand reach for mine under the table, I realize that won’t be a problem.

“So how do you like Albuquerque?” he asks.

“It’s… nice,” I say, still unsure of my feelings about the city. “Definitely different from what I’m used to. Somewhat of a culture shock.”

“Where are you based out of?”

“Eglin Air Force base— in Florida.”

“Oh yeah. Seems very different.”

“Much greener,” I say. “More beachy than deserty.”

“Sounds nice. I was born and raised here. I’ve only really been anywhere else because of the Navy.”

He squeezes my hand under the table. I finish my drink, mostly due to nervousness. I feel like something big is about to happen. Like a middle schooler being asked out on my first date.

“I do know one thing,” he says. “They sure have sexy ass women down there in Florida.”

I blush and he brings his face closer to mine, until our noses are touching.

“All I want to do is kiss you.”

And then he does. His kiss is soft, and gentle, but when I lean in to meet him, passion takes over and we’re making out like high schoolers.

“Ramsey. Wait. Hold on.”

I gently back away, even though I don’t want to. All I want to do is keep kissing him.

“This is dangerous. I mean… I’m having fun, sure. But we could get in big trouble. I’m an officer. We start training early tomorrow morning. And we’re in public.”

“I agree,” he says, quickly, surprising me.

Maybe I was building this whole thing up to be more than it really is. He just wanted to flirt and steal a quick kiss and be on his way. Silly me.

“Let’s make it private,” he finishes.

“What?”

“You can’t drive. You’ve had strong drinks and I can tell you’re not used to them.”

“How so?” I ask, rather offended that he’s implying I can’t hold my liquor, even though he’s right.

I wasn’t even planning to drive but instead to call an Uber. I’m secretly glad he wants our night together to continue.

“Because you’re kissing an enlisted service member, in public.”

“Well, that’s true.”

We both laugh.

“You need a ride. Let me drive you home. To my place.”

“What if we get in trouble?” I can’t help but wonder.

“It’s nothing,” he reassures me. “People do this. You know they do. Tomorrow we’ll act like we don’t even know each other. Everyone came here and had a drink and then went their separate ways. That’s all that anyone will know about tonight. Nothing else will have happened, as far as anyone else is concerned.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling crazy, but also excited.

He’s right. What’s one night of passion— of freedom?

Do I not deserve that? I haven’t been with anyone since Peter. And I will never have to see Ramsey again. There’s something exhilarating in that knowledge. The only way I like to get with guys is when I won’t have to see them again, but this isn’t just a regular hook up. Instead, it’s exciting.

The feeling is bringing me back to college now. Just like the last time I drank Long Islands.

“You’re right,” I tell him. “I need a ride.”

And some hot, random sex.

“And we can’t really go to your hotel,” Ramsey says. “I know there are a lot of out of town service members and officers staying there for the training, who could see us. And that wouldn’t be good. We’ll have to go to my house.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I say decisively.

My heart pounds as we walk towards the door, and Ramsey keeps a tight grip on my waist.

We’re really going to do this. I’m really going to do this. This is happening.

I’m going to love it, and then I’m going to forget about it. Or I’ll just keep it as one of those crazy things I look back on when I’m an old, lonely lady, with only my memories to keep me company.

This is going to be a great memory to have later, I just know it. A wild night of passionate sex with the handsome SEAL. And then I’ll move on, and so will he. We’ll go our separate ways, and that will be that.

Won’t it?