Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2)

by Stella Starling

  She laid a hand on his thigh, squeezing it, and even if she did sound genuinely concerned, the touch was unwelcome enough to help him get a hold of himself. He plucked her hand off him, then scrubbed the moisture from his cheeks.

  It was tempting to try and hide his emotions from her—they were too personal, too revealing—but he was reminded of Micah’s unstoppable attitude whenever he was embarrassed and decided he could handle it, too. He let out a slow breath—refusing to look away even though Janis was the very last person he’d have chosen to see him lose it—and told her the truth, hoping it would be enough to get through to her. To get her to leave.

  “I just found out that my father died, Janis, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather be alone right now.”

  Her mouth made a perfect little “O,” her eyes softening a bit.

  “Poor baby,” she said, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so sorry. I’m here for you. I need you, too, and we can lean on each other.”

  Zach didn’t have any spare energy to be polite.

  “No, thanks,” he said, shrugging her off and reaching for the whiskey again. “Please, Janis, just go.”

  She didn’t.

  “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” she said, her hand finding its way back to his thigh somehow. Stroking. Rubbing. Fucking relentless. “Especially if you’ve made it that far through the bottle on your own.”

  He glanced down at it. Huh. The level of whiskey in it was lower. A lot lower, which probably explained why he was feeling a little disconnected from reality. Not, however, disconnected enough that he wanted her touching him like that.

  Or touching him at all.

  He pushed her hand off his leg again, realizing as he did that yes, his reflexes were getting slower. Had he already moved past numb, all the way to drunk?

  “I don’t know what you’re hoping for here, Janis,” he said, making a point to enunciate clearly since he was definitely feeling less than clear-headed. Possibly even verging on sloppy. “But whatever it is, I’m really not interested.”

  She gave him a hurt look that might even have been real. Still, given the history they had together, it was completely unjustified, as far as he was concerned.

  “Don’t be like that, baby,” she said. “We were so good together. Can’t I be here for you? I know you can’t want to be alone right now.”

  She was right. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Micah, and now he couldn’t quite remember why he hadn’t reached out to him when he’d had the chance.

  Janis’s voice rose and fell next to him, and Zach took another drink, turning his attention back to the waves as her hand came to rest on his thigh again. He was starting to feel too fuzzy-headed to fight her off, but he could definitely tune her out. The waves made more sense than her sudden renewed interest in him, anyway. They’d gotten bigger, and instead of just blue, they were twenty different shades of monochrome gray, rolling and crashing under the dark sky in a visual symphony. Beautiful, as Micah would have said, but also harsh. Untamed and a little violent, just like all the emotions roiling about inside him that he still couldn’t name, but couldn’t deny were there, either.

  Exactly the kind of emotions that used to make him do such stupid things, once upon a time, when he’d been young.

  Zach pushed himself to his feet, dropping the bottle onto the sand, and grabbed his board.

  “Surfing? Is that the right thing to do right now, Zach?” Janis asked, one hand resting on her stomach as she frowned up at him with a look of concern. Her eyes darted down to the Stagg. “Are you sure it’s smart to go out there in the dark?”

  Smart? Maybe not, but the alternative was to stay on the beach with her and her roaming hands and drink himself into oblivion, and at the moment, that didn’t feel smart either. Or at least, it didn’t feel like it was working. Her presence was grating on him, denying him whatever numbness the bottle might have offered.

  “Zach,” she said, reaching for him when he took a step toward the waves. “Baby, maybe you shouldn’t…”

  “Leave me alone, Janis,” he said. Maybe said. Meant to say. But he definitely shook her off.

  There was only one thing that really worked when he needed to burn off the kinds of feelings his father’s death had stirred up inside him, and it wasn’t drinking. Janis was still talking, but Zach ignored her, doing what he should have done the moment he’d arrived—heading out into the ocean in search of a rush big enough to chase away all the things he didn’t want to feel anymore.

  14

  Micah

  Micah rolled onto his side, draping an arm over Pippin as he stared at the clock on his nightstand. He was pretty sure it said 2:00 a.m., which would make it approximately four minutes later than the last time he’d squinted in that direction.

  He closed his eyes.

  Then he opened them again.

  Then he sighed, hugging Pipp even closer.

  She was normally well-behaved, and she knew darn well that she wasn’t allowed on his bed… but part of being a good guide dog was intelligent disobedience, a.k.a. getting a little pushy when she knew better than her human. And in this case, when Micah had finally managed to talk himself into going to bed, it had meant that Pippin had insisted on joining him instead of curling up on her cushion in the living room like she usually did. Even after he’d pointed at it, trying to be stern, Pippin had ignored him. She’d jumped right up onto the bed next to him instead, circling a few times in exactly the spot Zach had slept the weekend before, then plopped down and looked at him with her big, dark eyes.

  She’d refused to budge when Micah had told her to get off, and he hadn’t had the heart to try very hard, because… she’d been right.

  Of course.

  Just like she always was.

  Micah had appreciated the comfort. Kind of needed it, really, because his feelings had been all sorts of jumbled up inside.

  He closed his eyes and buried his face in the familiarity of her warm fur, telling himself for the millionth time to go to sleep already and stop worrying about why Zach had canceled on him. To stop worrying about Zach. Micah tried to remind himself that he really hadn’t known Zach all that long. That maybe he didn’t know him as well as it felt like he did, no matter what his heart insisted. So, really, even if the whole thing tonight felt totally out of character… maybe it actually wasn’t?

  Maybe Zach was fine.

  Probably Zach was fine.

  Pippin snorted and twitched next to him, pawing at the air like she was running in her sleep, and Micah huffed out a breath, rolling onto his back and staring up at the blackness that hid the ceiling as he thought back over the much too short and cryptic text conversation he’d exchanged with Zach earlier.

  No, it wasn’t his imagination.

  Zach just wasn’t the type to leave things unsaid or dodge his questions, and he knew for sure that Zach had been looking forward to being together tonight as much as he had. So… it was out of character. Micah knew Zach, regardless of how few weeks they may or may not have technically been seeing each other, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he’d failed at being a good boyfriend by not pressing Zach a little more to tell him why on earth he’d felt he wouldn’t be good company that night.

  Micah snorted. As if he was only interested in Zach when he was “good” company. Micah loved him.

  He nibbled his lip.

  Shoot.

  Did Zach really think that was a valid reason for not getting together? Because sure, the two of them had a lot of fun, but they also had other things, right? Zach made him feel understood and important and capable and cared about. Zach made him feel like he could say anything to him, and that Zach would get it. That he got Micah.

  Had Micah failed to make Zach feel that way, too?

  Micah sucked his lower lip into his mouth, trying to decide whether he should have done something differently… or whether he was just overthinking things. After all, people had to c
hange plans sometimes. It happened. It felt abrupt and odd and worrisome, but since Micah had never had a boyfriend before, he really didn’t have a lot to compare it to. He’d been so caught off guard that he’d hesitated, not sure how to respond.

  He still wasn’t sure how he should have responded.

  The people who cared about him tended to be too much in his business rather than not enough, so Micah had always gone the other way. Tried to back off if someone seemed to need a little space. To not push. But wasn’t the whole reason he couldn’t sleep right now because his gut was telling him that this time, he should have?

  He huffed out a frustrated breath, then rolled over and grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand before he could second-guess himself again. His hand went right to it in the dark. In some ways, it was still easier for him to navigate the world without sight. When he did, he was trusting instincts that he knew he could rely on… and maybe that’s what he needed to do with Zach, too. Inexperienced or not, he needed to go ahead and rely on his boyfriend instincts. To trust that even if he messed it up, loving Zach would be enough to make things work out, anyway.

  Micah tapped the little microphone icon, dictating his message:

  Hey, I’m worried about you. Please let me know if you’re really ok.

  He hit send, then made himself put the phone down instead of stare at the screen and wait for a reply. It was two in the morning, after all, but even if he didn’t get an answer until later, he already felt better for at least having tried. He’d told Zach that he trusted him the week before, now he was going to start trusting himself, too.

  His phone vibrated, buzzing against the nightstand like an angry bee, and Micah grinned in the dark, snatching it right back up as relief flooded through him. It wasn’t Zach though. His sister was calling, which immediately killed the relief and made his heart race with a whole different level of nerves, because it was 2:00 a.m.

  Micah swiped to answer, jamming the phone against his ear.

  “Amanda? Is everything okay?” he asked, sitting up and fisting his free hand in Pippin’s fur. Too hard, maybe, because she gave a little yelp, jerking awake and then scrambling around to lie with her head in his lap.

  “The family’s fine, musje,” Amanda said right off the bat. A good thing, since the reassurance helped calm Micah’s heart rate. A little, at least. “I just got off shift at the hospital, though, and Mam’s working Emergency…”

  And that sent Micah’s pulse skyrocketing again, especially when Amanda’s voice trailed off without any other information.

  But really, didn’t he already know?

  Or… at least suspect?

  He’d been up all night worrying, and clearly it hadn’t been for no reason.

  “And…?” Micah finally pressed when the silence dragged out, a part of him not really wanting to hear at all, but knowing she wouldn’t have called if he didn’t need to.

  Amanda sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “Micah, your boyfriend was brought into Emergency a little bit ago.”

  Micah’s stomach clenched, hard and fast, and he made a pained sound that sent Pippin’s ears shooting straight up. She whined as he scrambled out of bed and tried to find his pants, dropping the phone and tripping over Pippin and somehow managing to get them both tangled up in the sheets along the way.

  “Sit, Pipp. Stay,” he said firmly, his throat tight and painful as he finally sorted himself out.

  He scooped the phone back up, his heart lodged in his throat as he shoved it back against his ear.

  “What happened?” he blurted, dressing quickly in the dark. “Is Zach okay, Amanda? Tell me…” His throat started to close up even tighter at the idea of Zach being hurt, but he powered through it, needing to know. “Tell me what happened to him. No, wait, I need to call an Uber first, but don’t go anywhere. I’ll call you right back—”

  “No, musje,” she interrupted. “Wait. I don’t know if you should come in to the hospital. Zach is unconscious.”

  “I don’t care, I still need to—”

  “And,” she said, speaking over him and switching from concerned-sister voice to overprotective, pissed-off sister voice. “He may not deserve to have you here. The woman who brought him in claims she’s his girlfriend.”

  Amanda practically spat the last word out, and Micah blinked, not sure he understood.

  No, sure that he didn’t understand, because of course Zach didn’t have a girlfriend.

  Clearly it was Amanda who’d misunderstood something.

  He pushed aside his confusion, focusing on the important part.

  “Is Zach going to be okay, Amanda?” he asked, his hands shaking a little as he zipped up his pants.

  Pippin nosed her way under his palm, pressing hard against his leg as she whined up at him. She was usually good about the stay command, but she’d obviously sensed his distress.

  “Mam came and got me after she stabilized Zach. She told me about this woman, so I went in to see for myself,” Amanda said, still riled up and failing to answer what he’d asked. “She’s obnoxious, but she won’t leave his side, and she knew all of his personal information for intake. I can’t believe we trusted that man with you! I’m going to tell Rachel-Lyn to burn the wedding photos he’s in, musje. And what’s more, he smells like he drank an entire—”

  “Amanda,” Micah snapped, cutting off her tirade. “What happened to him? Is he going to be okay?”

  Micah was squeezing the phone so tightly that it cut into his hand, but he ignored the pain. He needed to know. Needed the answer to be yes.

  “Yes,” Amanda said.

  Thank God.

  “—probably.” Her voice was still tight with anger. “The girlfriend says it was a surfing accident, and he’d obviously been drinking. Stom,” she spat. Stupid.

  “Zach doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Micah said, stating the obvious. “He’s my boyfriend, and that kind of thing doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand?”

  Zach didn’t drink too much, certainly not enough to get to the point where he did stupid things. And surfing? He’d been so careful when he’d taught Micah. There was no way he would mix the two unless something was really, really wrong.

  Micah kind of wanted to cry. His instincts had been right, but he’d trusted them too late. He shouldn’t have just accepted Zach’s uncharacteristic cancelation without trying to do something.

  No, not trying… insisting on doing something.

  But it was too late for that, and crying wasn’t going to do any good now. What he needed was to get himself to the hospital.

  “Micah,” Amanda said, sounding like she was choosing her words carefully. “Sometimes men say things that they don’t mean. Not everyone is always honest, musje. I know it can be hard to accept, and that it can hurt, but someone who isn’t faithful doesn’t deserve your loyalty. I only called to tell you because I knew you’d—”

  “Stop, Amanda,” Micah interrupted, leading Pippin to her crate and securing her inside. “I’m not totally naive, okay? But that’s not Zach. I don’t know what’s going on, or who this woman is, but I trust him. I know him. So, thank you for calling—” his throat closed up again, but he cleared it fast, not wanting to give his sister the chance to get another word against Zach in, “—but I’m going to hang up now so I can make arrangements to get to the hospital. Just… please, could you stay with him and let me know if anything changes before I get there? I need to know that he’s really okay. Or that he will be, at least.”

  “Oh, Micah.” He could easily picture her shaking her head at what she no doubt considered his gullibility, but he was done not trusting himself. “Don’t call an Uber.”

  “I have to, Amanda. I—”

  “No,” she said, followed by a quiet little laugh. “I just mean that I know you. You’re stubborn and loyal and too optimistic, and tonight I hate Zach, because I don’t think he deserves those qualities from you. I don’t want him to hurt you, Micah, but of cou
rse I knew you’d insist on coming.” She sighed. “Mam has other patients to attend to, but yes, I’ll sit with him and that woman, and call if he wakes up or worsens before you get here. Rachel-Lyn is already driving to your place. Be out front in a few minutes for her, yes?”

  Micah bit his lip, looking out the window next to his front door at the quiet, darkened street.

  “Rach just got back from her honeymoon, Amanda. It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Pfft. Micah. Don’t be ridiculous. Those things don’t matter right now. I still say Zach doesn’t deserve it, but you’re our musje.”

  And then Micah did cry, just a little bit, and hopefully too quietly for Amanda to hear. Sometimes, the way the three M’s were so constantly, vocally, overbearingly opinionated about his life—so interfering, if he wanted to be blunt—got to be a bit much. But right now? He wouldn’t trade them for anything.

  Micah closed his eyes, the effort of seeing feeling like too much, and held onto his sister’s hand tightly as she hustled him through the hospital’s corridors. He had no idea whether there was some medical explanation for why it felt harder to see when he was anxious, but at the moment, his brain was refusing to make sense of the harsh lighting and stark lines that made up this wing of the hospital.

  No one Micah cared about had ever been hurt before.

  Not badly.

  He’d never had to juggle the stomach-clenching fear of what he’d find when they reached the treatment room with the twin weights of helplessness and guilt for not having been there when someone he loved had gotten hurt.

  Rachel-Lyn squeezed his hand, and for the first time, he started to really get why the three M’s were the way they were. He’d always known their overprotective instincts had to do with the accident that had blinded him and killed his father, of course, but this was the first time he’d really had an inkling of what that must have actually felt like to them, back when it had happened.