by Shae Banks
I didn’t want to entertain the possibility. While we were in no way in a relationship, I had to admit she had an impact on me. I didn’t want her to return to her misery. However, I still stand by what I told her. She was hers, and only she made the choices in her life. “Then she’ll either tell him to piss off or go home, Ry. Either way, it’s none of our business.”
He shifted uncomfortably and I put the pen down, knowing I wasn’t going to get anything done while he was this antsy.
“Look,” I started, getting to my feet. “I know, I do. I didn’t expect this any more than you did, but we can’t control this. We’re nothing to her. This was supposed to be a distraction for her and that’s how it should have stayed.”
He turned away, clenching his jaw.
“Ryan.” I was stern, perhaps unnecessarily so, but he needed to snap out of it.
“She’s different,” he said stiffly.
I tried not to sigh at his admission. It revealed more than I think even he was willing to admit. “They’re all different. They’re all perfect until they aren’t.”
He shook his head and I watched his throat work as he swallowed.
“She isn’t Shannon,” I reminded him firmly. He turned his head and our eyes met. Yeah, I’d mentioned her. I’d said her name. There was every possibility that Lyla would be added to his list of people never to be spoken of, and I’d be fucked if I was playing along. “Lyla probably wouldn’t fuck you over like she did, but the fact remains that Lyla isn’t yours, or mine. She’s still fucking married, and if she decided she’s going back, then that’s her choice. None of our business.”
I knew that expression. The frustration. The anger at himself. I’d seen it the first time I’d kissed him. Fucked him. He’d been handling that self-doubt for a long time, and I was done tiptoeing around it. Particularly now. If she left, it was her choice and her right to do so. Softening my tone, I suggested, “If she leaves, she leaves. If she doesn’t, then you should probably let her know how you’re feeling.”
He stared at me. I stared back, challenging him to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t. He never did.
Then his phone chimed. Mine, too, behind us on my desk.
“See. She’s fine,” I reassured him, reaching out to hold the back of his neck.
That was the closest I’d ever come to him at work. Ryan and his self-doubt meant what we had was a dirty secret. I was okay with it, but right then I’d overstepped his imaginary line. He was forced to react.
What I didn’t expect was for him to close his eyes and rest his forehead against mine.
“You should answer her,” I murmured quietly, and pushed away before the temptation to see just how comfortable he was now had me on my knees in front of him. “Or I can.”
I returned to my desk and adjusted my dick, while his attention was on his phone as he checked the message.
“Any preferences for dinner?” he inquired.
“It’s Friday,” I reminded him, picking up my phone and checking the group chat.
Lyla: I know it’s usually takeaway, but I wondered if you felt like going out for dinner this evening? Let me know.
I looked back at Ryan. His grin was ridiculous.
“We should go,” he declared confidently.
“You want to go out as a group for dinner?” I questioned, incredulous.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
There were a number of reasons, the most obvious being that two guys wining and dining a woman might raise eyebrows. Another being he and I rarely went out together unless it was in a group. While three was a group, there was an intimacy about dinner I presumed he would find unnerving.
“We’re friends,” he stated. “Friends can go out to eat.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Friends?”
Ignoring my question, he began typing.
Ryan: Where did you have in mind?
His message popped up on my screen and he wiggled his eyebrows at me.
Lyla: I was thinking Italian or Greek, maybe?
He began to chuckle as he replied.
Ryan: I think we can handle that. We gonna smash some plates when we get home?
I watched the screen for her response.
Lyla: You can definitely smash something.
He gave a triumphant laugh and stuck his tongue in his cheek.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Ry,” I groaned, with a shake of my head. “Piss off and let me get something done. If we’re going for dinner, then we need to be out of here on time.”
Turning on his heel, he walked towards the door, but stopped and asked, “Want a lift home?”
Another surprise. While we did lift share, it was usually only during bad weather. “No. I’ll run. Thanks though.”
His single nod was his only response before he opened the door and left my office. I watched through the window as he made his way across the gym with a slight swagger in his step.
Lyla: The table’s booked. 8pm. I’ll drive.
I found that odd, why would she drive? I replied anyway.
Me: If you’re sure. Can always book a taxi. I’ll be home a little after five thirty. Not sure about Ry.
The chat fell silent after that, and I opened the first file on top of my pile. It was going to be a long afternoon.
The house was silent when I got home. No Lyla. No Gunner. No Ryan.
Her car was in the driveway though.
Stripping to my boxers, I shoved my gear in the washing machine and went for a shower. Better to get a head start with two more people to get ready.
I’d just turned on the water when the front door clattered, I paused before climbing in and heard Lyla call, “That you, Thom?”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. Her voice was still new. I was so used to it being Ryan. Lloyd never gave a shit who it was, he rarely called out, and Sam was usually out somewhere. I liked the change.
“Yeah, about to shower. You okay?” I called back.
“Okay,” came her distant answer, and I heard her talking to Gunner out in the garden through the open bathroom window.
“Good boy. You are, wait and I’ll feed you, then we’re going out. If you’re good, I’ll take you out again tomorrow. I might even let you in my car and we’ll go to the beach again.”
I stepped into the shower with a smile.
Her husband was clearly a wanker, but it hadn’t affected her personality at all.
It certainly wasn’t a surprise that Ryan had fallen hard and fast. There wasn’t much to dislike about her. I felt bad for trying to put Ryan off, but I was trying to protect him, even if I knew it was a mistake. She really wasn’t like the women he usually went for.
“Do you usually leave the door open?” she asked, no small amount of sass in her tone.
“Only when I think there’s a chance of someone engaging in voyeurism,” I replied, not bothering to turn around, and began the process of washing my hair.
“A view like that, it’d be rude not to,” came her response.
My cock stirred.
“You’re welcome to join me,” I offered, turning to face her.
She pursed her lips, seeing my growing erection, then pushed her lips to the side as though considering her options. “As tempting as that offer is, there’s a long soak in the bath with my name on it.”
I resumed rinsing my hair, accepting her rejection for now. “Fair enough.”
She was on her way out of the room when I knocked off the water and grabbed a towel.
Tying it around my hips, I followed.
“Lyla,” I called, before she could disappear into the bedroom.
“Thom?” she queried, turning to face me.
“You had Ryan worried,” I informed her, stepping up close. “He talks a good game, but he needs a little reassurance now and again, you know?”
Her light laugh and small frown conveyed her confusion.
“Don’t give me that,” I chided, as I reached up and b
rushed one of her curls back from her face. I was glad to see them back. Women always had their hair poker straight, I liked that her hair was set so drastically apart. Like her. “You know what you’re doing to him.”
Pressing her lips together she stepped back. “I haven’t meant to…”
“He’s a big lad, he can handle himself. Just… He’s been where you are and while he can keep it casual, you need to give him some ground rules. Just to keep him on track.”
“I thought you two…” She trailed off when I laughed.
“No. Ryan and I are… something different. Just do me a favour and make sure he’s up to speed, honey.”
Before she could overthink, I leaned in and kissed her. I’d been dying to for days, but hadn’t wanted to overstep. Her message earlier let me know precisely where I could walk. I intended to take full advantage while the invitation was open.
Her soft moan was an instant reminder of the sound she’d made when I slipped my cock inside her on Monday, and my arousal was instant. She soon discovered it when she stepped into me, deepening the kiss of her own accord. Her hand slid down my front, her fingers splayed as she reached the towel and traced the outline of my erection through the cotton.
“Ryan’s home,” I muttered against her lips, right as a car door slammed outside. “If you want to make it out to dinner, you should probably beat a retreat.”
Her smile was broad. “Yeah. Umm…” She pointed behind me. “Are you finished?”
I looked down at her and cocked my head. “For now.”
The front door opened, and Ryan took the stairs two at a time, reaching the top as the bathroom door closed.
His eyes narrowed on my waist as he crossed the landing and kissed me.
“Starting without me?” he inquired, tasting her on my lips and grabbing my still erect cock through the towel.
“Just warming up,” I answered, and headed for my room before I changed my mind and fucked one of them raw on the landing. They were both too tempting. “Looks like you’re last in the shower.”
“I haven’t fed Gunner yet,” Lyla called from the bathroom, the sound of the bath filling almost drowning her out.
With a disgruntled sigh, Ryan turned and ran back downstairs, and with neither of them being a distraction, I waited for my cock to soften enough for me to get ready without the risk of busting my zipper.
Cock soft and jeans pulled on, I grabbed my phone from my bag. I wanted to get a taxi booked before Lyla got out of the bath.
11
Ryan
Lyla had intended to drive, since it was a few miles from home, but Thom was having none of that and booked a taxi, much to her displeasure.
We were in the kitchen having a beer when she finally came downstairs. It was worth the wait.
I’m not going to lie, Lyla has shape—all the curves, in all the places. Those curves wrapped in the dress she decided to wear were perfection. She hadn’t overdone her makeup. I didn’t usually have a preference, probably because I hadn’t bothered getting to know a girl properly for years, but I liked her standing in the doorway with a half-smile on her lips.
“You look nice,” she complimented, her heels clicking on the kitchen floor as she dropped her bag on the table and made for the fridge. “How long do I have?”
Thom cleared his throat. “Ten minutes. Sorry, we didn’t pour you a drink.”
“That’s okay,” she replied, taking one of Thom’s bottles of water out and closing the door. “I didn’t want to drink too much tonight.”
She’d just taken a drink when there was a loud rap on the front door. Rather than make the driver wait since he was early, she put the water back, grabbed her bag, and went straight to the car.
Seated in a quiet corner of the little taverna Lyla chose, we ordered wine and scanned the menus. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She suited the red dress. It wasn’t a power colour, not on her, but it reflected what I saw in her. The love she had to give. The passion hidden beneath her quiet, demure front.
Even sitting in the restaurant, under the low lighting, I kept catching myself devouring her with my eyes.
“They get back a week on Tuesday,” Thom explained, taking a sip of his wine. “It’s been a combat training exercise. Weapons, vehicles, survival, that sort of thing. They’ve probably been living on ration packs and sleeping in hedgerows for most of it, so when they get home, they’ll sleep the first three days solid.”
“Don’t they already know all that though?” she asked, when she lowered her glass.
Knowing how it all worked was something I took for granted, but there was no reason for her to understand. She was, after all, a civilian.
“Yeah, but new kit and new regulations being drafted by the UN means regular updates, and it doesn’t hurt to keep the front-line soldiers on their toes.”
She swallowed. Thom didn’t notice, but I did. It wasn’t something my family worried too much about, but with our big infantry, Lloyd spent much of his time in the firing line. Her discomfort only lasted a couple of seconds before she picked up her menu again.
She peered over the top, but didn’t look at either of us in particular. “And what about Sam?”
We hadn’t discussed Sam much. She hadn’t asked about him and there really wasn’t much to tell.
“He’s right beside them. They take a bullet, he digs it out, patches them up, keeps them alive. Or, you know, moves on to the next one,” I informed her.
She frowned, lowering her menu. “I always forget how horrible their jobs are. You two are lucky you don’t have to go into that.”
“We do,” Thom informed her, “just not as often as Lloyd and Sam. We aren’t the first choice for that, but we’ve both spent a fair amount of time in Africa and even Afghanistan for a tour.”
“Yeah,” I interjected with a smile. “We get to be soldiers sometimes. How about you? Bet you’ve seen some weird and wonderful things in the courts.”
She smirked. “One or two. You’d think people would behave with a little decorum in a place like that, but honestly, it’s like watching reality TV. I didn’t spend that much time in the thick of it, but what I did see was eye opening.”
I recalled that she’d given up her career to be a wife and mother, only the mother part hadn’t happened. “Don’t think I could help half of them knowing they were guilty.”
“But you’ll defend them?” she queried.
I shrugged. It was a fair point. Where did you draw the line? I was trained to defend my country and its citizens like everyone else in the forces. She was trained to give them legal representation and access to justice. The two weren’t so far apart. “Not every person deserves it, but who are we to choose?”
Right then, the waiter returned to take our orders. We let Lyla choose, and I was impressed by her selection of Meze. Greek isn’t my first choice to emulate, but her choices were perfect for a traditional family run taverna like that.
“Who’s on your ‘don’t save them’ list?” she asked, when the waiter left.
Thom answered first. “The three girls who bullied my cousin through secondary school.”
I glanced at him and took a mouthful of wine. I usually hated white, but it was surprisingly light and fruity.
“You?” she inquired, turning her attention to me.
Thom watched me intently. He’d deliberately shared something personal. He’d set the bar.
“My ex-wife,” I answered with a light-hearted grin, even though I didn’t feel it.
Rather than smile back at me, her brown eyes filled with sadness. “Why?”
Bollocks.
“I was on detachment. Malawi with this one, in fact,” I started, and tried to keep my tone light. “I was over there feeding the lads and helping train their rangers while she was in our house fucking her sergeant.”
Her eyes glossed over, and for a second I thought she was going to cry. For me. “Ryan, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” I said brightly, hoping to
make her feel better about bringing up a shitty subject. “Shannon and I weren’t meant to be. It happens, I’d just have been grateful if she’d fucked me off before bedding half the camp.”
“You left her?” she asked, blinking away her unshed tears.
I nodded once.
“Just like that?” she pressed, a hint of awe in her voice.
“Just like that,” I confirmed, raising my glass and tilting my head. “The jungle drums reached me before I got home, and instead of going back to the house, I went to see the housing officer. It’s amazing how fast they can find a room in the blocks when you tell them it’s that or you’re going to go AWOL.”
“That’s awful,” she murmured. “I mean, hearing about it like that…”
I could tell by her expression she was likening my experience to her own. The truth was they were nothing alike except that we’d each chosen poorly.
“It ended quietly,” I added in an attempt to derail her train of thought. “I filed for divorce the week after and once it went through, she put in for a transfer. That was her choice,” I added quickly. “I wasn’t bothered where she was as long as it wasn’t anywhere near me. She fucked me over and I fucked her off, job done.”
She stared at me as if she was seeing me for the first time, and I met her eyes unwaveringly. Holding her gaze for a minute, I told her, “Nobody has the right to treat you like shit, Lyla.”
“To not being treated like shit,” Thom announced, breaking the tension at the table by raising his glass for a toast.
I could have fucking kissed him. “To fresh starts,” I contributed, raising mine.
Lyla finally cracked a smile. “To special friends,” she added, her cheeks colouring slightly.
“Speaking of friends,” Thom began, setting down his glass, “you’ve been distant. Any particular reason? I don’t want to pry, but if there’s something we’ve done to make you feel uncomfortable, I’d like the opportunity to make amends.”
Her eyes flicked from Thom to me and she pressed her lips together while she considered how to respond. Eventually, she smiled. “It wasn’t anything you said. Or did.” Looking back to Thom, she continued, “I mentioned the issues I had while trying to conceive, and one of those issues relates to an incredibly erratic cycle. I was uncomfortable and know I can be more than a little bit cranky, so I loaded up on pain relief, tried not to be a snappy cow towards either of you, and had a few early nights.”
