Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“You tell yourself that.” Linc matched him light tone for light tone, body remembering how good banter with Jacob felt even as his brain continued to churn. And actually, Linc was worried that he would be the one doing the dragging and the corrupting.
“Anyway, I said my piece. Don’t let Mom down.” Stretching, Jacob stopped playing with the dogs, waving them away.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With any luck and a whole lot of willpower where Jacob was concerned, he never would. “Surprised she’s not madder that I didn’t succeed in talking you out of this notion of yours.”
“Oh, she saved all that mad for me.” Jacob sounded weary, and Linc remembered what he’d said earlier about no one being proud of him. He wanted to be that person, wanted to tell Jacob how damn proud he was of the man he’d become, but couldn’t get the words past the terror in his heart. And Jacob could tell himself that Linc’s concern was all about Wyatt and Jacob’s mom and their disapproval, but Linc knew the truth—he was scared of something happening to Jacob on a personal level that he didn’t want to examine too closely and that he sure as hell wasn’t ever giving voice to.
“You worked hard,” he managed. Not quite praise or pride, but an acknowledgment nonetheless.
“Yeah, I did.” Jacob turned toward the truck. Linc’s mouth opened, about to say who knew what, something without permission from his brain, but then Jacob added, “See you tomorrow.”
His mouth slammed shut. Fuck. Not only was Jacob as off-limits as they came, but he was now a coworker, whether Linc liked it or not. And that meant that everything—everything—would go unsaid. It was undoubtedly for the best, but he still couldn’t stop the ache in his chest as Jacob drove away, the nearly overwhelming sense of loss.
Chapter Four
Damn Linc for getting in Jacob’s head all over again, getting him rattled. Even on his drive to the air base, after a night of fitful sleep following their conversation, he was still antsy. He’d revealed too much, practically begging Linc to be friendly again, go back to how things had used to be. But if he was honest, things hadn’t been good and easy between them in years. There was always this undercurrent of potential, something that could be and yet never was. But the past few months had been the worst of all, feeling Linc’s absence like a scab that refused to fully heal. He’d missed him and hated himself for doing the missing. It made him feel weak, and there was nothing he hated more.
And still he’d gone to him, asked him to come around again, and not just for Jacob’s mom. Almost like he was one of Linc’s rescue dogs, pathetically grateful for any scrap of attention paid to him. So yeah, damn Linc and his ever-present fucking nobility. No one did guilt quite as well as him. And the worst thing was that it was that same nobleness that made him so damn attractive—he was as loyal and steadfast as they came, solid and dependable, thoroughly incorruptible.
“Come on, Linc. One drink. What’s the harm, especially if no one knows?” He’d been on this quest ever since Linc took the time to teach him how to drive stick. He’d never been so grateful for learning to drive on his parents’ automatics as those few hours alone with Linc. And maybe he needed to give it up, but he’d seen the heat in Linc’s eyes too many times to let this drop.
“I’d know. And that’s enough.” Linc didn’t look up from stirring the firepit.
“I’d rather have fun than sleep alone with my high-and-mighty principles.”
“You might be old enough to buy your liquor these days, but you’re still a kid. A man’s only as good as his word.” Linc’s words landed squarely as a roundhouse to Jacob’s jaw, enough to have him recoiling, needing to shake it off.
“Does it ever cross your mind that maybe you gave your word to the wrong guy?” he asked, hating the edge to his voice. Fucking Wyatt. Always getting there first.
“Nope.” If Linc was lying, Jacob sure as hell couldn’t tell from the set of his jaw or the way he stared straight ahead.
He tried to take some solace in the fact that Linc had said he’d come to the party, had said he’d do better, because Linc did keep his word. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. Stomach more settled, he made a beeline for the free coffee at training, trying not to look around for Linc too much. Above the coffee table was the big board of names of the jumpers with the most jumps under their belts. Wyatt was way up there. Linc too. Jacob wanted his name up there in the worst way. He was going to make this work, no matter what anyone else thought.