The Final Line (13 page)

“Listen to me, Corey,” Sean said in a low voice. Corey envied his calm. “Put your phone on speaker and set it down close by.”

Corey wanted to ask why but he didn’t have enough breath to form the words. Stiffly, he lowered the phone so he could see the display. It took several moments for Corey to get his hand to cooperate and relax its hold on the phone.

“Are you still there?” Sean’s soothing voice filled the inside of the Jeep.

“Yeah,” Corey whispered.

“Rest both hands on top of your thighs. Just let them rest there, don’t make fists.”

Corey stared at the white knuckles of his hand that held the steering wheel in a death grip. He concentrated hard until his fingers peeled away. He let his hands fall into his lap.

“Corey?”

“Yeah. Okay,” he answered, voice hoarse.

“Close your eyes and let your head rest against the back of the seat.”

Corey complied. His mouth was open wide as he struggled to get enough air into his lungs.

“Are you still with me, Corey?”

“Yeah,” he gasped his reply.

“Take slow, deep breaths. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Make sure you can count to eight with each breath.”

Corey’s chest heaved. He couldn’t understand what Sean meant.

“Inhale through your nose, Corey,” Sean repeated. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.”

Corey tried but he couldn’t slow his breathing that much.

“Exhale through your mouth now.” Sean counted to eight. “Come on, do it again.”

Corey focused on the sound of Sean’s voice. He matched each breath to Sean’s counting. He found a rhythm. Corey matched the rhythm of his breathing to the gentle sound of Sean’s voice.

“Okay, you sound better now.” Sean sounded less anxious. “If your hands are fisted, unclench them,” he encouraged. “Stretch your neck and roll your shoulders to get them to relax. Just make sure to keep breathing slow and steady.”

Corey obeyed as if Sean was an officer issuing orders. He didn’t question and he didn’t hesitate.

“Relax the muscles in your lower back and your legs.”

Corey’s feet were still jammed hard into the floor of the Jeep. His legs and his hips screamed at him. He relaxed his legs and breathed through the sudden burn of the release of tension. When the discomfort passed, the relief was acute.

“Corey, how are you doing?” Concern was back in Sean’s voice.

“Better,” Corey replied quickly, wanting to reassure Sean he was okay. His breathing was steady and his heart wasn’t slamming violently against his ribs anymore. Corey shook out his hands and rolled his neck. The pain in his chest eased and it was that much easier to breath. “I’m better now,” he said, voice stronger.

“Good.” Sean sighed explosively. “That was a full-blown anxiety attack. What brought that on?”

Corey had no fucking idea. “I just got out of my first interview for this investigation they’re doing into the shit that went down in Afghanistan. But it wasn’t a big deal. I just had to tell what I saw and did. Whatever went wrong didn’t involve me.”

“Okay, maybe it was just the stress of the interview itself on top of the shit that went down Saturday night,” Sean suggested.

Corey gave a wry chuckle. He picked up his phone, took it off speaker and pressed it to his ear. “None of this is nearly as stressful as combat.”

“Well, that’s sort of the core problem itself, isn’t it?” asked Sean.

Corey sobered. He knew Marines who had been through worse than he had and they hadn’t lost their minds. He was at least as strong as they were. “I think I just got pissed at myself ‘cause my memory of this one thing is hazy.”

“Your memory is hazy?” Sean asked carefully.

“Yeah, it’s just pissing me off. And then when I was trying to remember something that happened, for some reason that nightmare I had flashed through my mind.”

“Corey, is there a professional you can talk to about your nightmares?” Sean sounded challenging, as if he expected Corey to argue.

Running a hand over the back of his still tense neck, Corey replied, “You sound just like Jonah.” Immediately he regretted his words.

The sound of a car engine hummed in the background. Corey guessed Sean was driving once again. Guilt ate at him that he’d completely interrupted whatever Sean was in the middle of.

“I don’t know who Jonah is, but if he thinks you should get some counseling I agree.” Sean sounded distracted. “Does he know about the drinking?”

Corey sucked in a harsh breath in surprise. “He just assumed. Jonah encouraged me to get help for it a few years back.” Hell. He just made himself sound like a fucked up mess.

“Maybe if you gave him a call he could help you again,” Sean suggested stiffly.

Too much shit had changed. Corey had to get himself squared away this time. “We don’t serve together anymore. I’m not his responsibility.”

“Jonah’s a fellow Marine?” Sean asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, he was my sergeant back in Iraq.” Corey glanced at his watch. “Shit, I gotta get back to work. I’m sorry I even bothered you with this crap. You have things you need to do.”

“Corey,” Sean said loudly, breaking into Corey’s rant. “Let’s have dinner together tonight.”

Jesus, that idea excited him. It was scary how much he wanted to see Sean again. “Class runs kinda late tonight,” he hedged. “We average sixteen hour days.”

“When have late nights ever been a problem for me?” Sean asked dryly.

There were plenty of enlisted cantinas, civilian restaurants, and fast food places on base, but Corey was getting damn sick of eating alone. He’d done a suck-ass job of staying in touch with friends since he’d been back. “Where do you want to go?”

“Just come to my place,” answered Sean. “We won’t have to worry about the time. I’ll just have everything ready for when you can get there.”

Corey hesitated. He still hadn’t forgotten how his dick had refused to cooperate on Saturday night.

“Just dinner, Corey,” Sean said, as if reading his mind. “I have to drive to L.A. tomorrow so no overnight guests.”

“What’s in L.A.?” he asked, before he could stop himself. It wasn’t his business.

“Auditions, what else?” Sean replied.

“You can tell me about them tonight.” Corey reached for the ignition, ready to head back to work.

“Call me when you leave the base so I know you’re on your way. See you tonight, Corey.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Corey stood in front of the door to Sean’s apartment. He tugged at the hem of his T-shirt and wiped his palms on the thighs of his jeans. Taking a deep breath, Corey gathered his courage and pressed the doorbell.

The door was opened quickly and Corey stopped breathing when he was face to face with Sean. “Hi,” he greeted lamely.

“Hi,” Sean replied simply. He wore an old, faded pair of jeans that hung low on his narrow hips. His T-shirt was as soft and faded as Corey’s own.

At Sean’s welcoming gesture, Corey stepped over the threshold. It looked like Sean was trying to suppress a smile and failing miserably at it. With Corey inside, Sean closed and locked the door.

Turning back to Sean, Corey struggled for something witty to say. His mind was wiped clean when Sean stepped in and slid his arms around Corey’s chest. Reflexively, Corey wrapped his own arms around Sean and held him close.

“How are you feeling?” Sean asked, his lips moving lightly against the side of Corey’s neck. “I was worried about you earlier.”

Corey breathed deep and discovered Sean had showered recently. He smelled of spicy soap and musky shampoo. Corey detected a hint of cologne and to his joy and amazement, his cock shifted in his jeans. He ran his palms over Sean’s muscular back, taking pleasure in the feel of his firm body pressed against his own.

“I’m fine now,” Corey murmured against the warm skin below Sean’s ear. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Sean pulled back out of his arms and Corey felt chilled in the sudden absence of his heat.

“Don’t be sorry. You should always call me if you need my help,” Sean replied. He skimmed his hands over Corey’s chest.

“Thank you,” Corey said, looking anywhere but at Sean.

“Are you hungry?” Sean asked, turning to walk down the short hall.

“Starving,” Corey confessed, following him. “And something smells really good.” He hoped the sounds his stomach was suddenly making weren’t as loud as they seemed.

At the end of the hall, Sean turned right into the kitchen. Corey caught sight of the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entire far side of the great room. They were only on the second floor but the view was stunning.

“Wow,” Corey blurted.

“That view is one of the main reasons I bought this place,” Sean said from the kitchen. It was separated from the rest of the apartment by only a breakfast bar.

“You own this place? You’re not renting?” Corey asked incredulously, crossing to look out at the canyon below.

Sean chuckled. “That always surprises people. I guess they assume I’m a starving artist. I get work pretty steadily so I make a damn good living.”

Corey admired the mottled colors of the oak trees, chaparral, and Manzanita. “I’m actually not surprised, but I am impressed,” he said.

“I don’t know how impressive it is, but thanks,” Sean replied with a hint of embarrassment. “Ordinarily, I’d open a bottle of wine with this, but tonight, all you get is soda.”

Corey crossed to the kitchen. “You’re right, that’s probably best,” he conceded. When he saw the plates, heavily laden with food, his eyes widened. “You didn’t cook, did you?”

Sean snorted. “No. I
can
cook but I was too damn tired. This came from a great little restaurant down the street. They make great calzones and antipasto.”

They ended up on the sofa, eating at the low table in front of them. Sean turned on the television but it ended up just being background noise.

“How did your auditions go?” Corey asked.

“Really well,” Sean answered enthusiastically. “I’ve got a shot at the part of Benedick in ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ at the Old Globe. I think they want me for the production of ‘Guys and Dolls’ at the La Jolla Playhouse but I’d rather do Shakespeare.”

“Why is that?” Corey would have thought he’d want to work at the theater that was closer to home.

“I’ve done a lot of musical theater,” Sean replied. “I’ve even done ‘Guys and Dolls’ before. Shakespeare would be more of a challenge.”

Corey could relate to that logic. He appreciated a good challenge. “Did you say you’re going to L.A. tomorrow?”

Sean nodded, mouth full of food. “I’ve got two days of auditions and readings,” he answered when he’d swallowed. “So I’m staying up there tomorrow night.”

“That makes sense.”

“You still call me if you need me, though,” Sean insisted. “Speaking of which, tell me about that interview today.”

Corey hesitated. He didn’t want memories intruding on what was shaping up to be a nice evening. He didn’t want to see the same expression of pain on Sean’s face that he’d seen Saturday night.

“You need to talk about this stuff, Corey,” Sean said into Corey’s silence. “Keeping it bottled up makes what you’re going through worse.”

“You don’t need to hear about the ugly shit I’ve had to do.” Corey picked at his food, not looking at Sean.

“Don’t give me that crap,” Sean retorted. “I’m a big boy, I can deal. It’s not like I don’t know what it is you do.”

“Yeah, well, there’s knowing and then there’s
knowing
.” Corey pretended to watch the television.

“If you’re not going to talk to a professional about what’s going on, you need to talk to me,” Sean insisted.

“I’m seeing a doctor Thursday,” Corey said quickly, going back to pushing his food around the plate. “I made the appointment when I hung up with you today.”

“Good!” Sean declared. He actually looked relieved.

Why Corey wanted so much to please Sean, he had no idea. “It’s just with my regular doctor, to get something to help me sleep. I’ll talk to him about the other stuff while I’m there.”

“That’s awesome. It’s a start.” Sean was nearly vibrating with pleasure. He abruptly sobered. “Your boss, or your commanding officer, or whatever you have, won’t give you a hard time about getting this kind of help, will they?”

Corey remembered Whitfield’s easy accommodation of the medical appointment. At the time, he’d been surprised by the Master Sergeant alluding to Corey getting whatever help he needed. Now he was just grateful.

“Actually, I think he suspects something is up.” Corey sighed. “He told me today to make sure I take care of myself.”

“You don’t really have an excuse then, do you?” Sean said with a smile.

“It’s still not easy,” Corey said quietly.

There was a long silence before Sean stunned Corey. “So tell me about Jonah.”

Corey didn’t immediately reply. He stared down at his hands as he rubbed his palms together nervously. He had nothing to be embarrassed about. Jonah hadn’t rejected him. It wasn’t like Corey hadn’t been good enough. It was just that Jonah had only ever loved Kellan.

“So, that’s how it is,” Sean said quietly, standing abruptly and collecting their plates. “Never mind, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, that’s not how it is,” Corey said as he gathered up the last of their dishes and followed Sean to the kitchen. He didn’t like the suddenly blank expression Sean was wearing. “We served together in Iraq and that’s all there ever was. He’s never loved anyone other than Kellan Reynolds.”

“You have feelings for him, though,” Sean said, back still to Corey.

“He was the first
man
I ever had a crush on,” Corey confessed, his face warming. “If you ever saw Jonah you’d understand. He’s six-foot-three inches of California surfer boy, sex on legs.” Corey gave a self-conscious laugh as he ran a palm over his still heated forehead. “I thought I loved him but what the hell did I know back then?”

“Did he at least let you down easy?” Sean glanced at Corey with sympathy.

“I don’t know if he even knew.” Corey shrugged. He stood next to Sean at the sink and dried the dishes as he washed. “If he knew then yes, he let me down very easy.”