He rushed past the office support personnel, heading right for the LT’s office. Which was more than a little crowded already, what with the senior chief there, and...oh fuck, Wes. Wes plus senior chief plus LT could not mean good things for Dustin at all. But he swallowed down his panic at Wes’s presence and managed to do little more than glance at him as he made the usual greetings and apologies for being the last to arrive. Or at least he hoped he was the last to arrive—all this situation needed was someone from Personnel to make the bile in his throat burn even worse than it already was.
“I’ll get right to it,” the LT said, eyes boring into Dustin. “There’s been a...concern, I guess you could say.”
“A concern?” Dustin repeated. The LT was being unusually guarded—he usually missed no opportunity to knock heads together or complain. That frisson of dread in Dustin’s insides grew, making it hard to not look at Wes, look away, look anywhere but at the LT’s unreadable face.
“A concern. And I’m just going to ask this once, and I want a straight answer. Is there anything going on between you and Lowe that I should know about?”
Dustin gulped. He honestly wasn’t sure he could speak without puking. He’d worried about this moment for weeks and weeks, had nightmares about this question, and still didn’t know what his reply would be.
“No, sir.” Wes spoke first, quiet and decisive, voice as firm as Dustin had ever heard it. “There’s nothing going on.”
“That so?” The LT looked at Dustin, eyes narrow and hard, as if he could sense Dustin’s quaking knees and nauseated stomach.
Dustin couldn’t afford to hesitate now—if this was how Wes wanted to handle it, he had to follow suit. “He’s one of our men. That’s all.” Dustin made the words come out level, which was no small feat.
“You friends?” The LT wasn’t letting this drop.
“No, sir.” Wes spoke first again. “Lieutenant Strauss was nice to me when my sister was sick. Said a few words to me, but I wouldn’t call us friends.”
Oh, that was a good touch and totally believable. Dustin nodded. “I was concerned, same as I’d be for any of our guys.”
“You’ve always put the welfare of the team first,” the senior chief added, a welcome strong voice of support. “I’ve got no doubts you and Lowe are telling the truth.”
Oh, you have no idea. Dustin nodded. “Can I ask what brought this on?”
“You cannot,” the LT said. “It’s a confidential concern, but one I’m content to let drop. For the time being. But if the person concerned brings it up with Personnel as a formal complaint, we’ll have to let them investigate—I doubt they’ll simply take your word for it like the senior chief and I.” There was a warning there, loud and clear. This wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
“They won’t find anything.” Wes was emphatic but not defensive, and seriously one of the world’s best liars. “Nothing going on. I’ve had friendlier exchanges with my XO back in Little Creek—”
“You’re not in Little Creek now,” the LT interrupted with a harsh bark. “And you’d do well to remember that, you hear? This is my team, and I can’t have even the appearance of impropriety.”
“Understood, sir.” Wes’s jaw was set harder and sharper than a Bowie knife, voice every bit as deadly.
“Fraternization is not some minor concern,” the LT continued. “I take it seriously, and I know Personnel certainly does. Lowe, you’re dismissed, but you keep that in mind.”
“I will, sir.” Wes gave an earnest nod before leaving the office, seeming to take all the air and beating heart right out of Dustin’s chest.
“Anything you’d like to add?” The LT looked at Dustin expectantly after the door closed.
“No.” Dustin shook his head.
“You know it’s your neck on the line here, right? I can’t tell you who complained, but they take this to Personnel, the investigators will go far harder on you than Lowe.”
“I know.” Dustin forced himself to meet the LT’s eyes, return his cool and steady gaze, not wither under the naked speculation there.
“All right then. We’ll consider this handled.” The LT shuffled some papers on his desk. “But watch yourself going forward.”
Somehow Dustin made it through the next portion of their meeting, the routine scheduling tasks and administrative requirements along with discussion of how soon it was likely to be before they were called back out to the field.
It was only later, when alone in the restroom, door locked and double-checked that he let himself have the luxury of falling apart. Damn, but it had hurt when Wes had so readily denied everything that was between them. Even now, his hands shook, remembering how clinical Wes had sounded. Unstressed, as if it really were no concern of his. Hell, he hadn’t even once glanced at Dustin for confirmation, just barreled ahead into his denial, cool as could be.
This is why he ghosted me. Fuck Wes and all his noble intentions. Something had happened the other day, and he was trying to handle it all on his own, save Dustin. But what if Dustin didn’t want to be saved? The threat of a court martial should loom large, the well over a decade he’d spent building his honorable service to the country, the very real consequences of his terrible choices should terrify him. But still...he wasn’t sure. What would he have said had Wes not answered first—
We’ll never know.
He swallowed hard. That was the truth of it. He honestly didn’t know what he’d been about to say or do before Wes forced his hand. And maybe this truly was what Wes wanted. Maybe he wanted to be through with Dustin, bored with the kinky games and sneaking around. Dustin blinked rapidly. He wanted to believe Wes cared, but right then, he honestly wasn’t so sure. It was hard to reconcile the guy who held him so close, who made him feel on such a deep and intimate level, with the cold-hearted operator back in the LT’s office. That had been a masterful performance, one that Dustin should be grateful for. But instead, all he felt was empty and cold all the way to his marrow, as if a life raft had been ripped from him right before a freezing wave hit. He needed...
Wes.
Wes was exactly what he needed and also what he could never have again. Wes had seen to that, made it clear where he stood. Fury and frustration in equal measure welled up inside him. Never before had doing the right thing sucked so hard.
* * *
Wes knew the call was coming, but he dreaded it all the same. This is it. The very last time. Hell, even the blinking chat window represented a huge risk.
You there?
No, Wes wasn’t there. Couldn’t be there much longer, in any event. And if he replied, they’d inevitably end up voice chatting, because so great was Wes’s need to hear Dustin’s voice one more time. He’d gone through his daily tasks in a daze, everything on autopilot, a wonder he hadn’t seriously hurt himself while on duty. Even now, hours later, his ears still rang with the LT’s questions.
No longer able to assume privacy, Wes turned on some music in his barracks room. He knew who had reported suspicion to the LT—fucking Curly who probably thought he was being a friend, saving Wes from himself or some such bullshit. After the confrontation in the LT’s office, the only thing Wes had wanted to do was go and demand an explanation from Curly. And maybe pound him to a pulp—that impulse was certainly there too.
But he couldn’t. Couldn’t even speak to Curly about this without revealing more than he should—his anger would be a dead giveaway, and as much as he’d pulled off lying in the LT’s office, he wasn’t sure he could deliver that command performance twice in a day. But seriously why the fuck hadn’t Curly come to him?
Because you shut him out. He had to own that. And that was the mess they’d created—he wasn’t able to get close to anyone with this secret dogging him. And he was not going to be responsible for torpedoing Dustin’s career. He’d seen the blood thirst in the LT’s ey
es—if they were found out, Dustin would be the one to pay. I’ve been so selfish.
Maybe he’d needed Dustin too much, leaned on him too heavily while he was worried about Sam. And it wasn’t just that—he’d felt something, right from their first online chat. And DC had only confirmed how far gone his crush on Dustin was, with everything that had happened since turning crush into something far more potent—and dangerous. But that had to stop right now. It was time to be the strong one.
I’m here, he typed at last.
You alone? We need to talk. Dustin’s reply was fast, as if he’d already had it typed before Wes’s message sent.
Wes hit call, because as he’d predicted, he couldn’t turn away from the need to hear Dustin. And besides there were some things too important to type.
“Why’d you do it?” Dustin asked without preamble when the call connected. He’d hit video chat because, yeah, he was a masochist, needing to see if Dustin looked as wrecked as he felt. And he did—bloodshot eyes and haggard face. He was on his bed, not the couch like usual. And damn, Wes could still remember what Dustin’s body had felt like next to his as they’d dozed.
“Lie you mean?” Wes forced himself to stop pacing, collapsing in his desk chair, and holding the phone steady so that Dustin wouldn’t get a jumpy picture. “Tell me I had a choice.”
“You always have a choice.” Dustin scrubbed at his hair.
“Really? Because last I’d checked, court martial was no joke—for either of us. A formal investigation would be the kiss of death for both of our careers, even if they didn’t boot us out. We can’t risk something where they’d seize our phone records—or worse. You know the consequences.”
“I know.” Dustin’s eyes squished shut. “And I know lying was the only choice for you. But I hate this. Hate that I put you in that position.”
“You didn’t put me in anything. In case you missed it, I was right there with you, instigating all of the contact. If anyone’s to blame here, it’s me. I knew the risk to your career, but I wanted to believe there was no way we’d get caught. I was stupid and naive.”
“No, you weren’t. Or at least no more than I was. And I’ve never been so stupid about anything in my life. And you know what’s awful?”
“No.” Wes shook his head. Everything was awful. Everything.
“I’d do it all over again. Every bit of it. And I don’t want to stop.”
Then don’t. Wes dug his heels into the carpet to keep those deadly words down. God, it should not thrill him that Dustin didn’t have regrets, that this meant that much to him. “We have to,” he said instead.
“I could get out.” Dustin didn’t look at the camera, eyes on some far off point.
Oh hell no. No way was Wes being responsible for one of the navy’s best officers leaving out of some fucked-up sense of nobility. Wes wasn’t worth that. “No you couldn’t.”
“Maybe it would be for the best—”
“For who? For you? You’ve worked your whole service for this. Think I don’t hear the buzz that you could be LT of your own team this time next year? No way in hell am I standing in the way of you taking the command you’ve earned.”
“For us,” Dustin whispered. “Maybe it would be the best for us.”
Oh this was bad. And here Wes had thought the point-blank lying portion of the day was done. “I don’t want that.”
“You don’t want an us? Don’t want to see—”
“There can’t be an us,” Wes countered, parts of himself dying with each syllable. “We were DOA, man. The second I showed up here at Coronado. Before then even. There was never an us. Just two lonely guys jerking off.”
“That’s all this was? Easy sex?” Dustin’s voice was so wounded that Wes wanted to leap through the phone, hold him close.
But he couldn’t. Could only steel his voice, force the lie out. “Yup. Just getting off. And we weren’t honest—either of us. Starting with lies... Where did we really think this was headed? Church bells and walks on the beach?” Before Dustin could answer, he turned the knife a little harder. “No, man, it was sex. Pure and simple.”
“Simple,” Dustin echoed. “But I... There were real feelings here. I felt it. I know you did too.”
Every last one of those feelings hit Wes at once—tenderness, compassion, connection, frustration, caring. And yeah, he could say it, acknowledge it to himself—love. But it didn’t matter one bit. Love wasn’t going to save Dustin’s career. Love wasn’t going to be enough to hold them together when Dustin realized what he’d given up for Wes. So he stiffened his backbone, vertebrae by vertebrae.
“I felt a lot of things.” He couldn’t bring himself to lie completely and say he’d felt nothing. “But none of them are worth you even thinking about giving up your commission. You can’t do that for me.”
“Guess not.” Dustin studied his nails. “It was just a thought.”
“A fucking terrible one.” A beautiful, awful, terrible, wonderful thought. One Wes couldn’t let him have.
“This is it, isn’t it?” Dustin’s voice was soft, eyes red and wide. “Nothing left to say.”
“Thank you,” Wes said, because he couldn’t not say that. “Thank you for being there when I needed a friend. But yeah, this has to end today. No more chatting. No more visits. No more long looks. We wipe our memories and move forward.”
“I’m not sure I know how to do that. How to forget.” Dustin’s head tipped back, exposing his throat, all the places Wes loved to nuzzle and lick and would never get another chance to do so.
“You move forward,” Wes ordered. “You get over yourself. Stop the hermit routine. Go to a bar. Find a kinky, bossy guy or girl, and you get a life and all of sudden, all this will seem stupid.”
“That’s what you want? Me to get someone else?”
Fuck no. Wes’s chest cracked open, heart exposed and vulnerable. He could see the future—two, maybe three months max, and there would a rumor that the XO was seeing someone, some good-natured ribbing. And he’d have to listen and smile and pretend that he wasn’t bleeding out.
“Yes. I do.” His voice sounded like tumbling rocks, pain as sharp as gravel in a wound ripping through him. “I want you to go out there and be happy. Forget me. Forget this.”
“Because it was just sex.” Dustin still didn’t sound convinced.
“Exactly.” Wes swallowed hard, fighting the urge to blink. “That’s all it was. So you stop talking crazy. And you get on with your life. You find a way to be happy, you hear?”
Dustin nodded. “I’m gonna have to delete the chat app. Remove temptation.”
“Exactly,” Wes lied, knowing that he’d keep that stupid icon of Dustin’s on his contact list as long as possible, same as he’d keep the memories close, take them out, even when they made him ache with what could have been, if only. “Y’all do that.”
“Okay.” Dustin’s voice was small and far away. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yup. Bye. And take care. I mean that.” God, did he ever. It would kill him, that future of Dustin’s—the one with someone new, someone who would know every kinky secret that had been all Wes’s, someone who would get everything Wes never could. But he wanted that for Dustin. Wanted to hear he was happy. In love. Sharing a life. All the things he could never get from Wes. If only.
And someday, they’d be on different teams. Dustin would be commander of his own group, the leadership position he’d been born to take. He’d have that person Wes wanted for him. And Wes would know that he’d done the right thing. And maybe that would be the point when it hurt a little less. But today was not that day—today it fucking killed him, knowing that future was coming. So he hit End and threw himself across the room, onto his bed. Cursing, he pummeled the pillow. He’d done the right thing, no doubt about that, but he wasn’t sure his soul would ever r
ecover from everything he’d just let go, from the dream he’d let die along with the call.
Chapter Twenty
The hot sun of a country where they wouldn’t be welcome and weren’t officially supposed to be in beat down on Dustin’s face. But even the sun wasn’t as harsh as the regret coursing through him, even still. They’d been called wheels up on a mission mere hours after his last conversation with Wes, and here they were, out in the field, trying to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. Or maybe that last piece was all him—Wes had been his usual self the whole mission, maybe a little more reserved, but nothing too outside his ordinary. Either the man was the world’s best actor or he hadn’t been lying when he’d said this was simply sex for him and that they both had to move on.
“That should do it.” Wes applied the last bit of det cord to bridge girder they were about to blow up.
“You take the hell box,” Dustin ordered, voice level, eyes focused on scanning the horizon for threats, not on plumbing the depths of Wes’s blue eyes for clues as to how he was coping. Only thing that mattered was this mission, getting everyone out in one piece. They’d been in the field a few weeks now, which should have been enough time for Dustin to stop having these moments when he only wished for a few minutes to talk with Wes, really talk.
But that wasn’t happening, not ever again. And he’d be a piece of shit, not even worth his rank, if he let distraction over how things ended with Wes compromise the mission. So he put aside his melancholy, gave Wes the same sharp nod he gave Curly and Shiny, and tried like hell not to flash back to training when the explosion had gone too soon and those awful seconds when he’d been sure Wes was injured.
Trust. But he couldn’t—how could he trust a man who kissed him so sweetly, poured out his heart, then said it all meant nothing? Because he was protecting you and your career, not lying. Fuck. Get your head in the game, Lieutenant. Right the fuck now.
He raced the others out of the blast zone, making sure that this time they were all four clear before Wes hit the kill box switch. And nothing fucking happened.
Wheels Up Page 20
