Off Base

by Annabeth Albert

  Of course that warm haze only lasted until they were on the boat, headed out for dive training, and Cobb started in again.

  “Show-off,” he complained in a low voice to Zack. “Just had to go finish with the leaders, huh?”

  “Problem with my pace?” Zack glared Cobb.

  “Nope. My problem’s with your queer—”

  “Nelson. You’re up.” Emmett, who served as the dive master, called him forward. Zack went through the motions of checking his gear, head still swimming. What had Cobb been about to say? His queer friends? His queer self? And why the fuck did it matter to Zack so much? Why did he care if Harper got to talk about the girl he’d picked up last weekend and Zack never got to mention the best thing in his life?

  Best thing in your life. Whoa. When had Pike become that?

  Zack plunged under the water, following the others to the target. Halfway there, he felt a little woozy. Fuck. Woozy could mean dead in a hurry underwater. He checked all his gear and gauges, and everything looked okay. He tried to shake it off, but by the time they made it back to the boat, he was seriously struggling to haul ass to keep up with the others.

  Whoosh. He came out of the water with a rush. Got into the boat, pulled off his mask and tank, tried to get to his place—

  Plop.

  He landed in a heap on the boat deck, head spinning.

  “Give him air,” the senior chief yelled. “You okay, Nelson?”

  “Gonna puke?” Rodriguez called. “Do it overboard, man!”

  “I’m fine,” Zack lied as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Fuck. Bile rose in his throat and he really did lose his lunch over the side of the boat.

  Then he had Emmett, the senior chief, and Morrison, the medic, in his face wanting to take his vitals and talking about whether he should have been allowed to dive.

  “You pushed yourself too much running,” Harper called.

  Let’s go with that. “Yeah,” Zack said weakly.

  “Problem?” the lieutenant shouted down from the boat bow.

  “Evaluating Nelson for DCS,” the senior chief shouted back.

  “I don’t have DCS. I felt...off from the start. Harper’s probably right, and it was the run.”

  The senior chief shook his head. Morrison and Emmett hovered over him the whole ride back, pushing fluids, making him take oxygen even as Zack said over and over that he was feeling way better and that it wasn’t decompression sickness. It took a lot of convincing to get them to forgo a trip to the hyperbaric chamber once they were back on land. God, he did not need to look like more of a wuss in front of the other men. As it was, he had Morrison insisting that he head to the medical center or call him if he had any new symptoms.

  “Hey, Nelson, you know you can call me for things other than the bends,” Morrison said, Boston burr thick, as he checked Zack’s vitals a final time. Everyone had already stowed the gear and headed out. The medic had dark curly hair and was one of the few guys on the team shorter than Zack, but he was built like an ox.

  “What...what do you mean?” Zack struggled to keep his pulse rate normal. What rumors were swirling now?

  “I mean I was new once too. I know it’s hard adjusting and some of the guys can give you a bit of a hassle, but we’re brothers here. We’ve got your back. You need something—anything—you just give me a ring. Even if it’s just someone to grab a beer with.”

  Damn. Zack almost wished he might be taking Morrison up on that, but the only thing he had on his mind was Pike, and no way was he sharing that with the friendly medic who was known as both a good listener and unrepentant gossip.

  “I’m good,” Zack said, throat a bit scratchy. Morrison gave him a little more hovering after he put his blood pressure cuff and stuff away, asking about driving home and if there was someone Zack could call.

  Pike. Pike’s my guy. Zack realized with a start that Pike had somehow made his in-case-of-emergency list. The very secret part of the list, you mean? Yeah. That. No way was he letting Morrison listen in to a call with Pike, even if Zack did feel like shit, and part of him wouldn’t mind the ride home.

  Nope. He’d take care of himself, same as always.

  Finally free, he headed for the truck. Fuck. He just wanted to be home. He let out a huge exhale when he saw Pike’s car out front the house, Pike just heading up the walk.

  “Hey,” Zack called. He never knew exactly how to greet Pike. Waving felt dumb, handshake felt ridiculous, and a bro hug seemed too...tense. Too likely to lead to very non-bro kissing, you mean? Yeah, that too.

  “Hey yourself.” Pike’s whole face transformed, softened as their gazes met. “Do you mind if we call for delivery? Chinese maybe? I’ve had kind of a shit day. Don’t feel like cooking.”

  “What about that sandwich place that delivers? I want that turkey thing I had last week,” Zack countered, because his stomach wasn’t entirely back online and, knowing Pike, chili peppers would factor heavily into his Chinese food order.

  “Deal.” Pike clapped him on the back as he stepped around him to head to the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “We got any clear soda?”

  “Yeah. Some off-brand lime stuff I picked up last grocery run. I’ll grab you a can.”

  Zack hung up his jacket and finished taking off his shoes and socks. He’d just collapsed on the couch when Pike emerged with their drinks.

  “I called for the sandwiches. They’ll be here in thirty or so.” Pike set his beer on the little end table that had appeared in the past few days. Like most of Pike’s finds, it was colorful, a bright teal. Sighing, Pike flopped down next to Zack. “Damn. What. A. Day.”

  Gizmo and Nectarine abandoned their naps in front of the window to come take up residence on Pike’s legs. Pike stretched, and Zack made a noise that wasn’t exactly surprise when Pike’s head connected with his thigh.

  “What? It’s just us.” Pike looked up at him with big wounded eyes like Zack was about to push him to the floor.

  “Nothing.” Zack stayed him with a hand on his head, sifting through Pike’s hair. He didn’t like it like this, with product in it. He liked it wild and messy better. Reaching down, he unknotted Pike’s tie, carefully tugging it loose. Yeah, nothing. Nothing, just me realizing how damn perfect this is. Whatever strange reaction he’d had to the hard run and dive fled as his whole body seemed to uncurl, tension gone simply by sharing space like this. “What made your day crappy?”

  He kept up the scalp massage, and Pike purred like one of the cats, arching into his touch. “Hard to remember right now. This is pretty perfect.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Zack said softly, bending to drop a kiss on Pike’s head for no other reason than he really wanted to. “But tell me what went wrong.” Please tell me. Please have something I can fix, some way that I can feel like less of a fuckup.

  “My department chair wants me to go to this thing on Saturday. Gallery opening of some paintings and photos of historic ships. Some art history professor’s work. And there’s a dinner party afterward.”

  “Historic ships? That doesn’t sound so bad. I was all about ships when I was younger—it was how I got into naval history and then later the history of the SEALS. Stowing away sounded pretty damn good compared to sharing a room with Danny.”

  Pike gazed up at him, a calculating look that made Zack’s stomach wobble. “Really? Doesn’t sound hella boring to you? The chair said I should bring a d—friend. You’re not on duty Saturday night, right?”

  “I’m not,” Zack said slowly. “But I can’t be your date for a dinner party thing. You know why.”

  “I know.” Pike’s heavy sigh hit Zack like a fist. “And I’m not asking you to. She specifically said friend would be fine too. And that’s how I’ll introduce you. My roommate. And none of these professors are married to people from the base that I’ve he
ard—no one’s going to know your team members.”

  Now that part sounded pretty damn tempting. Someplace where he could be simply Zack, Pike’s roommate, and not Zack, the SEAL. And he did like historic ships. It had been a couple of years since he’d been able to indulge that part of his brain. “Just friends?”

  “Just friends.” There was a tinge of sadness to Pike’s voice that made Zack’s neck muscles cramp. “That’s what we are, right? Yeah. No flirting. No touching. I promise.”

  “Okay. I’ll come,” Zack said thickly. And if there was a part of him that wanted to tell Pike not to worry about the touching and the flirting, that he liked those parts of Pike, that he’d be proud to be introduced however Pike wanted...well, that part needed to be tamped down. Instead he hauled Pike up for a blistering kiss, pouring every ounce of longing for things that could never be into the union of their lips.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pike wasn’t going to win any awards for punctuality, but he totally had hottest date covered at the gallery. Correction, non-date. Pike had tried to slide back into the friend zone gradually, letting Zack shower alone, not offering to iron for him or fiddling with his collar. No touching in the car, although he’d gotten away with that a few times recently, and he’d known something was changing with Zack when he’d started doling out more of the casual little touches of his own around the house and in his truck.

  That was pathetic, right? Reading each touch from Zack for hidden meaning, signs that they wouldn’t be stuck in this weird limbo forever. Signs that all their perfection inside the house wasn’t a paper castle, destined to crumple and blow away. Signs that this handsome man next to him wasn’t a mirage his starving mind had conjured up.

  “You nervous?” Zack asked in a low voice as they entered the gallery. Out of uniform, he was wearing an ensemble Pike was sure had seen the inside of a church more than a few times—khaki pants, blue button-down shirt and nice shoes. On anyone else it would have been beyond bland, but on Zack, it looked like something straight out of a preppy clothing ad.

  Terrified. But not of the gallery or his colleagues. More like terrified for his heart, trying to sort out what his changing feelings for Zack really meant. “Nope,” he said at last. “Just trying to work up enthusiasm.”

  “Dude.” Zack gave him a censoring look as he gestured to the giant painting in front of them. It had an abstract rendition with prisms of color depicting what appeared to be an old battleship. “These are cool.”

  “What do you see when you look at that?” Pike was genuinely curious as he hadn’t seen Zack this animated before—cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, hands gesturing.

  “Escape.” Zack shook his head thoughtfully. “Just think of all the young guys on that ship, far from home, banding together, afraid but excited. A fresh start—all the color makes the ship look inviting, not scary.”

  “Wow.” That was so not what Pike saw, but it certainly gave him a fresh look at the man next to him. Getting Zack to talk more about Danny and his home life was challenging, but from what Pike could see, the bully of an older brother had totally warped Zack’s perception of himself and driven him toward the military as an escape of sorts.

  And there it was. The urge to reach over and squeeze Zack’s arm, let him know he understood and that he appreciated the candor. But he couldn’t, could only move to the next piece, a collage of old photographs of young sailors arranged to form the outline of a ship.

  “See this one?” Zack gestured toward the center of the piece. “The men are the heart of the ship. Each one has a story.”

  I want to know your story. I want to be more than a footnote to this Chapter of your life. I want to write our story together. Fuck. These urges were not what Pike needed. What he needed was to be realistic. But then Zack smiled at him, a thousand megawatts of pure joy, and Pike knew he was lost.

  “Thanks for bringing me. These pieces are really cool.”

  “You’re welcome.” Pike’s voice was too thick.

  “Hey, they have punch over there against the far wall. Want me to grab us both a cup?” Zack gave him another smile.

  Oh sure. You just go being the perfect boyfriend. Pike suppressed a sigh. “Sure.”

  Professor Hu drifted away from a group of older women to come stand near him. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” Pike said politely.

  “You’ll have to introduce me to your friend. I forgot to ask you if he has any food allergies? I’ve got an assortment of food—”

  “He eats like a horse. No allergies.” Pike’s laugh was maybe a touch too fond, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure your food will be great.”

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable. He’d picked up a decent bottle of wine as a hostess gift earlier that day because his mother taught him to never go to a party empty-handed. But he lacked his mom’s easy gift for small talk. Around his friends, he was the comedian and the flirt, and he couldn’t be either of those things at work.

  “Reynolds, I’m glad I caught you by yourself. Did you hear that Smith is retiring at the end of the year?”

  Smith was the fossil who had given him the world’s driest syllabus, but Pike kept his expression neutral. “That’s too bad.”

  “Oh, it’s about time.” Professor Hu laughed in an offhand way that Pike was pretty sure he’d never master. “But I’m telling you now because the department will be listing the permanent full-time faculty position next week. I wanted to give you a chance to get your vitae together. As visiting professor, you’re in a great position to go for this position if you want it.”

  If you want it. Now, that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Pike was still smarting from not getting the War Elf job. He’d never expected to make a career in academia, especially not at a community college. But he’d also never expected this...thing with Zack. Did he really want to leave San Diego in May? They’d have the house long done by then and who knew what Zack would want to do at that point? Fuck. Pike had always been one to freewheel it without much of a plan for what came next in his life, focusing on one degree, one project at a time while trying to maximize the fun in his life. But now the lack of a clear direction made his teeth grind together and his jaw tense.

  “I’ll think about it,” Pike said to Professor Hu.

  “Do more than think,” she urged. “Get your hat in the ring. Your research and innovation is exactly what the department needs.”

  If that’s the case, why can’t I get through to my students? Of course, he couldn’t tell her that, could only smile and nod.

  “Here’s your drink.” Zack walked back over to where Pike and Professor Hu stood.

  Pike made the introductions, and Zack gave her a handshake and one of his winning smiles. “What’s your research specialty, Professor?”

  “Oh it’s Cynthia, please.” She gave Zack the widest smile Pike had seen from the woman. It didn’t matter what she gave Zack permission to call her, Pike couldn’t think of her as anything other than Professor Hu. “And my research centers around statistical modeling of population growth in developing countries. It’s part of why your friend’s dissertation intrigued me so much.”

  “Oh? How so?” Zack sounded genuinely interested in the answer.

  “His modeling is so innovative, and to apply it to a cross-section of video game users was just brilliant. The inferences he’s able to make...well, I don’t have to tell you how impressive your friend is.”

  “Really.” Zack blinked, head cocking to the side, as if he was just now noticing that Pike had a brain. Meanwhile, Pike was pretty sure he might die of blushing. He seriously wasn’t used to praise like this, and he couldn’t help but feel like Professor Hu would rescind every one of her kind words if she knew how much he was struggling in the classroom.

  “Ask him
to show you the presentation on his dissertation sometime,” Professor Hu urged.

  “Our Pike’s pretty darn amazing.” Oh man, the look Zack gave him. Affection and respect and a little bit of pride. Melted. Goo. Pike was a pile of gush for this man, and he just had to hope he didn’t get squashed.

  * * *

  Zack was careful to stand apart from Pike as they waited for Professor Hu to open the door to her mission-style home in a subdivision near the campus.

  “I hope you guys are hungry,” Professor Hu greeted them. “Joanna’s been cooking all day.”

  She accepted the bottle of wine Pike had brought and introduced them to a tall smiling woman in her forties or fifties with dyed red hair and a big smile. That they were a couple was evident from the tender way the two looked at each other, but if Zack’d had any doubt, what appeared to be about twenty years of photos scattered everywhere in the open living/dining room put any doubts to rest.

  There they were climbing some mountain together. On a sunny island beach. Riding a roller coaster at Disney. A lifetime of shared memories on display for everyone to see, and for the first time Zack didn’t feel a bit uncomfortable with the fact that this was another same-sex couple.

  Who are you and what have you done with Zack?

  Zack Nelson, private citizen, was so different from Zack Nelson, SEAL, that Zack hardly recognized himself. He’d expected to feel really weird at the gallery and party, but instead, he found himself enjoying talking art with Pike’s colleagues, seeing this different side of Pike and making small talk that had no real impact beyond a few pleasant moments. He liked Cynthia and Joanna and their warm, welcoming home that smelled amazing—bread and cinnamon and some spicy meat dish.

  Not that Zack didn’t love being a SEAL—he loved the adrenaline, the high stakes, but the communication could be very tense, the outcome always far from assured, and he could never ever relax and let his guard down. That way ended up dead at the worst and at Cobb’s mercy at the best. It was just...nice to get to spend some time in his guy’s world.