“Palmer, you drive like my grandmother,” I complained from the back seat. Almost two weeks ago, I was in the stifling heat of the desert, and after hours cramped in an airplane, three days drunk on a beach, and a week spent in reintegration training, the last thing I wanted was to spend another forty-five minutes in the back of Palmer’s SUV. The only comfort came from rolling down the window and letting the fresh cool air wash over my face. Such a relief, I thought to myself.

I craved the silence and the stillness of being back stateside. My life in the Army was spent in constant motion; I was always going or doing something with no time to think. And I needed the silence to be able to hear my own thoughts, which grew increasingly louder the closer I got to home. It’s decision time, I told myself.

“Shut up, asshole. We’re almost there,” Palmer replied with a flick of his middle finger. As we crossed the Narrows Bridge, I sighed with relief. It felt good to be home and back in familiar territory. When I looked out the window, I didn't have to worry about whether something was buried in the dirt that would blow me to kingdom come.

“Can we stop at a Starbucks?” Jackson pleaded. “I’d kill for a caramel macchiato.”

“Nope. Maybe tomorrow,” Palmer answered as he navigated the streets familiar to him.

Jackson was the youngest among us and missed the creature comforts of home the most. Since we’d been back stateside, he had attempted to visit almost every fast food chain restaurant. No doubt, as we drove through Gig Harbor, he was already cataloging and mapping his options. I watched as the scenery transformed from the touristy downtown scene to a residential neighborhood filled with sprawling waterfront homes.

“That’s where the Sorensons live,” Palmer said, pointing at an expansive white brick rambler that sat right on the bay. “You’ll meet Cami and Valerie tonight.”

“Are they hot?” Jackson was also the horniest member of our unit.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Have you listened to a single word this asshole has said during the past four years? He talks about Cami every goddamn day. She must have a magical unicorn pussy or something.”

Palmer reached across the console and grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt. “Shut the fuck up right now, or I’ll throw you into the bay, and you can swim home.”

“Jesus, calm down,” I told him, removing his hand. Clearly, I’d struck a nerve, which intrigued me. Since Palmer had joined my unit, Cami and Val Sorenson were a frequent topic. Cami was his best friend, and every time he said her name or talked about her, his eyes went all glassy. He was definitely in love with this girl, whoever she was, and apparently, I was going to have the honor of finally meeting her tonight.

I listened as Palmer chatted about the other people invited to the party. He sounded happy and relaxed because he was done with the Army; I was envious because I still had another year left on my current enlistment. I was good at being a soldier, even better at leading. I loved the brotherhood and the challenge of being in the Army, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t exhausted and ready to move on.

“Will we at least have a few hours to relax? I haven’t had a decent shower in months.” I was looking forward to a long, hot shower and a nap before Palmer started introducing us to the entire town.

“Of course. The party doesn’t start until eight.”

By eight o’clock, I was feeling like a new man. Freshly showered, I was ready to take on the world, but only for a few hours because my capacity for social interaction was limited. I couldn’t stand small talk; not because I was terrible at it—which I was—but because I hated being fake.

“Garrett, can I get you a drink?” Palmer’s mother, Lucinda, greeted me as soon as I set foot in the kitchen. Palmer had warned us she was a bit of a “mother hen,” and it was clear that since Palmer was the only son, she doted on him.

“Unless you have a bottle of Hammond Wines, he’s not interested,” Palmer teased, walking up behind me and giving me a hearty slap on the back.

“Don’t be rude, Palmer,” his mother scolded him slightly. She faced me and smiled sweetly. “I did order a case, though.”

I held up a hand and shook my head. “That’s not necessary. Beer is fine.”

Palmer reached into a cooler that sat on the floor next to a massive kitchen island and pulled out a beer. “Here you go.”

I took it and twisted the cap, tossing it into a nearby trash can, before taking my first sip. I closed my eyes as the crisp, cold liquid hit my tongue. Damn. That’s good. Being denied good beer for almost a year was a sin. I finished off the rest of it quickly, maybe a little too quickly, since a whiff of jasmine made my knees weaken and my eyes pop open. I searched the room, looking for the source of such a heady scent.

“CAMI!” I turned just in time to see Palmer lift a petite woman off the ground and twirl her. She hugged him tightly, and her face was lit up with so much joy it was hard not to smile.

“Palmer!” Palmer held her against his chest for a long while, nuzzling her hair. Damn, I thought. He might as well get a room.

Cami Sorenson was gorgeous. She was tiny with the perfect curves and a thick mass of curly brown hair that any man would want wrapped around his fist. She wore the shortest white shorts that had me turning away and reaching for another cold beer. Down boy, I scolded myself. She’s not for you.

“Palmer, I think your parents invited the entire town,” Cami said with a laugh once Palmer set her back down. His arm was still around her, and she leaned comfortably against his body.

“Garrett, I want you to meet Cami.” Palmer extended his other hand and motioned for me to join them.

Cautiously, I walked over to where they stood. She slipped out his grasp and surprised me with a hug.

“It’s so good to meet you, Garrett,” she said. I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent. Jasmine. My eyes popped open, and I backed away, mentally repeating bro code, bro code, bro code.

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Cami. Palmer talks about you all the time.” Cami’s cheeks reddened, and she hid her face behind her hands.

“Oh my god, that’s so awful!” She playfully punched Palmer in the shoulder before turning her attention back to me. “I’m so sorry you had to listen to all of that.”

Now that I had seen Cami in the flesh, I wasn’t sorry at all. She was absolutely stunning. Between mental reminders about the bro code, my only thoughts were mine, mine, mine. Never in my entire life had I desired what someone else had.

For the rest of the night, I watched Palmer and Cami flirt with one another. They seemed a natural fit and were easy and comfortable with each other and around all of the guests. Why weren’t they together? I remained just out of sight, far enough away from the crowds but still close enough to be seen. I was here for my friend; my own hang-ups could wait.

“I think I’m going to head back to my room,” I told Palmer when my anxiety started to overwhelm me.

“Are you serious? The great Garrett Hammond is leaving a party early?”

“Fuck off, man.”

“Are you really that unhappy for me? You can’t stand that I’m getting out while you’re still in, can you?” There was an unmistakable glassiness to his eyes and a slight slur to his speech. I took his harsh questions with a grain of salt because while there might be some truth to what he asked, Palmer also wasn’t thinking clearly.

“What I can’t stand is being in a room full of strangers, wondering who might try to blow me up, okay? This has nothing to do with you.”

I left before he could say another word. I was an asshole, shitting all over a celebration in his honor. This party was to welcome him home, but I made it about me and my issues. A pair of blue eyes and the scent of jasmine drove me away too. No woman had ever made me look twice before, but Cami was off-limits. Palmer wanted her, and I had to respect that.