Love on a Battlefield

by Posy Roberts

  My legs were tangled in the comforter again and I could feel how fast I was breathing. I’d probably been talking in my sleep or moaning. I didn’t know what I did when I dreamed.

  “I’m okay,” I said after I managed to free myself. Pain shot through my hip and made me catch my breath.

  “You sure?”

  I opened my eyes and saw his red hair all spiked and messed up. “You’re even gorgeous with bedhead.”

  He chuckled, then attempted and failed to tame his hair. It still stuck up in every direction, making him cuter than hell.

  “You scared me.”

  I pulled him to my chest and wrapped my arm around his back, tracing ambiguous patterns into his skin. “I’m sorry. The dreams …”

  “Was it bad?”

  I shook my head and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as if I’d been doing it for years. He felt so right in my arms. “For the first time in months, it wasn’t, actually.”

  “Oh?” He glanced up at me, eyes sleep-soft but curious.

  “I dreamed of you. I often dream of you, but this was different.”

  “How so?”

  “I was able to save you this time.”

  Shep sat up, crossing his legs to face me. He took my hand and squeezed it. “So what you wrote … I read one entry in your journal, a dream, but I was a soldier who got killed.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, my realities blur in my dreams, mixing good times with terrifying experiences, to the point that it ends up in some discombobulated stew of confusion.”

  He nodded, thoughtful. “But I didn’t die this time?”

  “Nope. That’s a first, actually.”

  “That’s ’cause I’m here with you.” He winked. “I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”

  I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. “I think you’re right. What did you say in your letter from all those years ago?”

  “Uh … I don’t know. Which one? I’ve written you close to a hundred, I think.” He chuckled.

  “Something about always being pulled to me, by your guts, but more eloquent than that. Let me go get it.” I stood, took a few seconds to stretch so I wouldn’t hobble too much, and walked out to the living room to find the weathered letter. When I walked back into the bedroom, I noticed Shep studying my gait, so I headed him off before he could ask. “It takes a while to loosen up in the mornings. It’ll get better as the day wears on, so don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m just wondering if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Not really. Heat from the shower helps and some ibuprofen, but I can’t take that on an empty stomach.”

  “I’ll make some eggs.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at him, but when he moved to get off the bed, I tugged him back to me. “In a minute. Let me show you this first,” I said as I held up the letter.

  “Wow. Looks like you’ve read that one to death.”

  “It’s my favorite. I brought it with me on each deployment.”

  “Really?”

  I cupped his jaw and pressed my thumb to his bottom lip. “Really.” Then I opened the envelope, automatically pulling the letter to my nose, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  He sniffed the empty envelope. “Oh my god. I haven’t worn that fragrance in years.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “I don’t remember the name, so I’ve never known what to ask for. My grandma bought it for me for Christmas one year. Just a tiny bottle. I loved that cologne. I probably used the last of it on your letters.”

  “Wow. Every time I smell this, I go back to the day we met. Anyway, the words …” I paged through the letter and found the paragraph I was looking for. “Here it is. ‘Still I can feel the tug deep in my belly. I feel tethered to you. Everywhere I go, my mind is pulled to where you are, my body facing whatever direction that will take me to you.’”

  “It’s still true,” Shep said. “But now that I’m here … I don’t know. I don’t feel like wandering anymore.”

  “For now. I’m sure that’ll change.”

  He shrugged.

  “You don’t know how many times I’ve read this letter, how much comfort it gave me, even if you were off loving other men.”

  “I wasn’t loving them how you’re imagining. I was having fun, enjoying my life, basically biding my time until you were free again.” He shrugged and traced a line of stitching on my comforter.

  “Even so, it was as if you were reading my mind when I got this letter. You’ve always felt like …”

  “Home to me,” we both said at the same time. He pressed his forehead to mine and laid his hand on the back of my neck, breathing with me, mouth curling into a soft smile.

  “Let me make you some breakfast while you get in the shower to loosen up your muscles.”

  I quirked a brow at him. “Which muscles?”

  He burst out laughing. “Wow, after the tossed salad joke fell flat, I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

  I winked. “I have it in me. And I’ll have”—⁠I gestured toward his groin⁠—“it in me again soon, I hope.”

  Shep shook his head and grinned, standing and putting his hands up in surrender. “Breakfast first. My interviews second. And I’m guessing you have to work today?”

  “I do, but I’ll be home by five thirty.”

  “Okay. Do you like spicy?”

  “I’m a Texan boy, of course I like spicy.”

  “Two Tex-Mex omelets coming up.”

  *

  Long before I had to leave for work, Shep headed off to his first of three interviews. He insisted on booking a ride rather than letting me drive him. “I’m used to public transportation. Don’t worry about me.”

  He shot me several texts after his two job interviews, one right after the other.

  Went great. Hope I get the first job.

  Even if the pay is worse, but it’s part-time.

  Job two wanted me thirty hours at a minimum.

  Off to UT now. Hope your day is going well.

  I smiled down at his words. It was funny that nearly all our relationship had happened through letters, but the texts were … different. Short and quippy fragments rather than his usual rambling sentences. I liked both. But I liked him in person even better.

  Good luck at the university.

  I’m sure you’ll make a great impression.

  Do you like Greek food?

  Love it!

  I’d rather order takeout than cook tonight. As much as I loved cooking for him, I had a feeling he’d be processing everything about his day and his possible move, so the last thing I wanted was to focus on food prep. I’d rather give him my undivided attention now that I could.

  Work took forever, but I got home just as Shep was dropped off.

  He talked a mile a minute, clearly excited about the prospect of moving here.

  “I really think this would be a great place for me. It’s different than I expected. A lot more open, like a little oasis. Of course, I’ve only been on campus and the museums, so …” He barely took a breath before moving on. “Anyway, I took a look at a few apartments close to campus, but I’m seriously considering the on-campus apartments.”

  I bit my lip to keep myself from blurting out an invitation to move in with me. It was too fast, too much, too crazy to even think of living together before we knew if we were compatible outside of the bedroom. Being pen pals for years didn’t really set anyone up for living together, no matter how much I wanted that.

  By the time my thoughts had spiraled back to the conversation, Shep was writing a list of everything he needed to take care of before moving here. He’d written What I need to do before I move to Austin across the top.

  “Don’t you mean if you move here?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I think either way, I’m moving. If I get into the grad program, I’ll take the part-time job. If I don’t, I’ll take the other and get a job at a coffeehouse or something. Maybe I can take both jobs
. Who knows? But I’m still sub-contracted by the curator I’ve been working for the last year. So I have that to fall back on too.”

  My phone alarm pinged, and I picked it up to see the notification. “Oh shit. I have to volunteer tonight, in about an hour. I spaced that out entirely.”

  “Volunteer? Where? Who with?”

  “Public library. I help kids who struggle with reading. Adults too.” I made a mental note to text my sub a reminder that he was filling in for me this weekend. “I couldn’t get someone to cover for me tonight, so I have to head there for a few hours.”

  “Fantastic. That’s so awesome! I had no idea. What do you do? How long have you been doing that? How did that come about?”

  He asked questions faster than my brain could comprehend them. “I got hooked up with the program through one of my neighbors. He’s dyslexic and needed extra help, so I volunteered. His mom told someone who told someone, and next thing I knew, I was looking forward to getting out of the house to do something other than work or grocery shop.” I shrugged. “I like it. Makes me feel useful.”

  He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Have you ever considered being a teacher?”

  “God, no!” We both laughed at my outburst, but I appreciated his belief in me. “As much as I like the kids I work with, I enjoy coming back home to my quiet apartment when I’m done.”

  “Yeah. I hear ya. I once lived with a family that had eight kids under the age of fifteen. It was pure chaos in that house. That’s when I lived in Italy for a summer.”

  “I can’t imagine living with that many people.”

  “Eh, it can be fun. There was always something to do. I can say I was never bored.”

  I snorted a laugh. “I might be one of the few who actually enjoys being bored. Solitude allows my mind to wander.”

  “Is that where you come up with your stories?”

  “Some.” I didn’t want the conversation to shift back to my writing again. “So, I have to head to the library for a few hours.”

  “Can I come with and do some research while you’re working?”

  “Uh … sure.”

  “I want to read up on the local art scene.”

  He jumped in feet-first with everything. No hesitation in sight. He just saw an opportunity and latched onto it immediately. None of this cautious toe-dipping I did.

  “You were the kid who didn’t even test how warm or cold the water was, weren’t you?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I bet you were the kid who took a running leap off the diving board. High dive, even.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.” Then he shrugged. “My body will eventually adjust, so why waste time pussyfooting around?”

  I chuckled. “Why, indeed.”

  I knew it was the perfect time to just leap myself, ask him to move in with me before school started in the fall. That way we’d have months to get to know each other. I even had a spare room if things went bad or if we were better off as roommates.

  But I reminded myself why that room was still empty. I’d planned on advertising for a roommate after I’d settled in, but the dreams … Fuck, the goddamn dreams.

  I sighed, then smiled at him to cover my exasperation with myself.

  “I’m a toe-dipper,” I admitted. “I start in the shallow end, only easing deeper once I no longer feel cold. I’m cautious, Shep.”

  “I know. I’ve had that figured out since your freak-out over what we did at the reenactment. There, you were this confident guy who took everything I offered, but then as soon as you were home, you backpedaled like crazy.”

  “Yeah, I know. I don’t know what came over me that weekend. I just wanted you and thought, Fuck it all. Take it! Probably because it was my one and only chance to be with you, and I’d been fascinated with you for years.”

  “So you jumped. That time, at least.”

  I nodded. “And my life changed.”

  “For the better?”

  “Definitely, even if I didn’t know it right away. Even if I had a detour that totally took me off my path.”

  “You just need to find a new direction. Writing could truly be it.”

  “It could,” I conceded. “I don’t have a clue what that even entails.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I need to get in contact with Vanessa.” He scribbled that on his list.

  “Your literary friend?”

  “Yes.”

  My phone pinged again with another reminder. “Well, if we’re gonna get to the library …”

  11

  The weekend was the best I think I’d ever had.

  Shep took me to the Blanton on my own personal art tour. His years of knowledge of me had him bringing up interesting historical factoids that would probably only delight me. It was amazing.

  I’d only ever been to the museum as a kid on a school trip, and that had been so rushed, I’d barely gotten a chance to see anything.

  This time, we lingered. Then we moved on to one landmark after the other, taking in all the public art Austin had to offer. It was strange that he was guiding me through my city and making me aware of creative works I’d often passed without notice.

  “You know Austin’s art scene better than I do,” I admitted after he’d gotten done describing a local artist’s influences.

  “It’s my job. Or at least it has been. I’ve done this in every city I’ve visited, delving deeper in the places where I’ve lived. Now, come on. Let’s get to the Hope Outdoor Gallery before the sun sets.”

  I cooked for him again. We made love, lazy and slow and repeatedly. I slept like a baby. No nightmares. And when I woke up Sunday morning, I wasn’t stiff like normal. Instead, I felt languid and relaxed, probably from all the orgasms.

  My ass couldn’t take his cock again, but I wanted him. So I kissed his neck, down his chest, licking around his nipples until they stiffened into tight peaks. He moaned and pressed his hard cock against me.

  “Please,” he whispered.

  I worked my way over his belly and brought him off in a matter of minutes.

  “What a way to be woken up,” he whispered, voice sleepy. “You can do that anytime.”

  “Yeah?”

  He moaned, then slid under the covers to return the favor.

  *

  After we cleaned up our lunch dishes, I suggested we head out to the pool. He hadn’t brought a suit, so he wore one of mine. A teensy little thing I wore on my high school swim team, but I wasn’t complaining when I saw how he was barely contained in the scrap of fabric.

  “Shit,” I said as I traced over the ridge of his cockhead, clearly visible through the material. “I might just have to tear that thing off you underwater.”

  He laughed, but his breath caught when I thumbed over a nipple.

  “So pretty.”

  “What?” he asked, clearly confused.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Just … I love your coloring. The red and gold in your hair. Your skin.” I swept over his nipple again. “How you’re the same color here as you are here.” I kissed his mouth. “And here.” I thumbed over his cockhead. “And here, I’m guessing.” I slipped my hand between his crack and skimmed my fingers over his hole.

  “Fuck, Andrew.”

  “Would you let me?”

  He panted and arched his back, opening himself up for me. “Fuck yes!”

  There was a loud knock at the door then. I pulled away, cursing my luck.

  “Dammit.” I headed for the door as Shep chuckled. Carlos was on the other side. “Hey,” I said, giving him a closed mouth smile.

  He narrowed his eyes and then looked over my shoulder to Shep. Then his eyes grew as big as saucers.

  “Oh! I didn’t know you had company.”

  I turned and saw Shep pressing the heel of his hand to his bulge. “This is Shep. Shep, this is my neighbor, Carlos. I help him with homework from time to time.”

  Shep stepped forward to shake Carlos’s hand and then proceeded to invite hi
m to swim with us, his social side on full display.

  We ended up playing water Frisbee and diving after torpedoes. Shep and Carlos got along like long-lost brothers, often making me the butt of the joke.

  I didn’t mind. It was like this gave me an opportunity to see Shep like I had all those years ago. And besides, I couldn’t physically keep up with them. I needed to rest, so I lounged on a deck chair while they played. As the sun warmed my skin, I watched the exuberance Shep had in everything he did. Everything.

  From eating whatever I put on his plate to talking about art to playing with a kid a decade younger.

  That morning, I’d even heard him fawning over my writing to his New York literary friend. Apparently he’d taken photos of a short story of mine and sent them to her.

  He just took life by the balls and drained everything he could from it.

  I was lost in him, pulled to him still, even when he was less than ten feet away from me, bobbing in the water on a ridiculous dinosaur floaty Carlos had brought out.

  I stood, walked to the far end of the pool, and climbed up the ladder to the diving board. Without hesitation, I dove headfirst into the water, swimming toward him, no longer ready to be a toe-dipper. I surfaced and pulled Shep to me, kissing him right there, not giving one shit about who was watching.

  Carlos whistled, long and low. When I didn’t let up and kept kissing Shep, he cursed under his breath. “Damn. Is that what I have to look forward to?”

  Shep pulled away, beaming. “If you’re lucky enough to find someone as great as Andrew here.”

  I shook my head in an attempt to not let the compliment settle. It felt weird to be praised.

  Shep popped another quick kiss to my mouth before gliding toward the ladder. “I need a snack. Want anything?”

  “Nah,” Carlos and I both said.

  I stared after Shep and his barely covered ass until he disappeared behind my patio door.

  “So, have you made it official?” Carlos asked.

  I treaded water. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Well, did you or didn’t you?”

  I chuckled. “How do I make it official? Do you mean Facebook official? ’Cause, no.”

  “You ask him to move in with you, ya idiot! He’s moving to town. He needs a place to stay. You can’t let him stay on campus. He might end up in those apartments on the other side of 35.” He pointed to my door. “You even have an extra room.”