parked her car in her usual spot and took a moment to check her reflection. She applied a quick coat of lipstick, grabbed her purse, and slid out of the car. The small red compact beeped reassuringly after she hit the lock button on her key fob. She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and shoved her personal problems to the far corner of her mind. She had a job to do and refused to let her sex life interfere with her professional one.
* * * *
Still in a rotten mood, Eddie flopped down in a booth at his favorite diner and stared at the lunch menu. The rest of his team had given him a wide berth. He didn’t blame them. He was being an absolute bear. What he needed was a swift kick in the ass.
Eddie rubbed his hand down his face and tried to force the looping image of Whitney’s hurt expression from his mind. He’d been such a 78
Lolita Lopez
jackass to her. It was wrong, really wrong of him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Apologize? Sure, but how?
He’d considered calling or texting, but he knew she had a very busy day. The last thing he wanted to do was rattle her nerves. He’d already done enough damage for one day.
Why had he snapped at her like that? He kept running the scenario, and it never made sense. Her question had made him uneasy, and he’d overreacted. He didn’t like to think about those tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Three rounds of combat had done a number on him. If it hadn’t been for Mick and his insistence that Eddie attend private therapy, god only knew where he’d have ended up by now.
Probably staring into a bottle every night…
But he’d avoided that rather-ugly possibility. He’d learned to deal with the stress and trauma. He rarely experienced violent or painful dreams. His flashbacks were mostly gone and only very infrequently triggered. He avoided most violent films and video games. He made a point of talking out messy crime scenes with Mick who wasn’t afraid of a little gore and always listened without judgment.
Thinking back, Eddie realized he’d never spoken of the firefight that ended his military career with Whitney because she’d never asked. She wasn’t the typical woman with a near fetish for men in uniforms. Most of the women Eddie had dated liked to ask probing questions about his time in the Army. His usual tactic was to give a succinct answer and quickly change the subject. He didn’t want to be the star of some woman’s military fantasy. He didn’t want to relive the horrors of war to play into some gal’s sex dream or to satisfy morbid curiosity.
Eddie sat back against the cracked-leather seat. Whitney knew he’d been in the military. She’d commented on the pictures in his room once or twice in those early weeks of their roommate arrangement, but she’d never pried. She’d simply nodded and left it alone. Somehow she’d known it was off-limits.
Between Friends
79
And he’d yelled at her for finally feeling comfortable enough with him to ask.
God, he’d really fucked this one up.
His inner psychiatrist pushed for answers. Why had he blown up like that? Why had he told her it wasn’t any of her business when, clearly, it was?
Miranda.
He shuddered inwardly at the very thought of that lying bitch.
She’d been one of those war-hero junkies. She’d been his nurse in the VA hospital where he’d been sent for treatment and therapy. Man, he’d been so blind and stupid. He’d fallen for her hook, line, and sinker.
And then she’d met Mick and had happily become the filling in their man-sandwich, so to speak. Eddie had allowed himself to dream.
He’d envisioned all those things he’d been craving for so long only to have his hopes dashed.
Those old scars on his body were like the physical manifestations of the emotional wounds she’d inflicted. He didn’t like to talk about them because it brought up all those old memories of Miranda, memories he preferred remained buried.
But those were his hang-ups and didn’t give him the
* * * *
Still in a rotten mood, Eddie flopped down in a booth at his favorite diner and stared at the lunch menu. The rest of his team had given him a wide berth. He didn’t blame them. He was being an absolute bear. What he needed was a swift kick in the ass.
Eddie rubbed his hand down his face and tried to force the looping image of Whitney’s hurt expression from his mind. He’d been such a 78
Lolita Lopez
jackass to her. It was wrong, really wrong of him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Apologize? Sure, but how?
He’d considered calling or texting, but he knew she had a very busy day. The last thing he wanted to do was rattle her nerves. He’d already done enough damage for one day.
Why had he snapped at her like that? He kept running the scenario, and it never made sense. Her question had made him uneasy, and he’d overreacted. He didn’t like to think about those tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Three rounds of combat had done a number on him. If it hadn’t been for Mick and his insistence that Eddie attend private therapy, god only knew where he’d have ended up by now.
Probably staring into a bottle every night…
But he’d avoided that rather-ugly possibility. He’d learned to deal with the stress and trauma. He rarely experienced violent or painful dreams. His flashbacks were mostly gone and only very infrequently triggered. He avoided most violent films and video games. He made a point of talking out messy crime scenes with Mick who wasn’t afraid of a little gore and always listened without judgment.
Thinking back, Eddie realized he’d never spoken of the firefight that ended his military career with Whitney because she’d never asked. She wasn’t the typical woman with a near fetish for men in uniforms. Most of the women Eddie had dated liked to ask probing questions about his time in the Army. His usual tactic was to give a succinct answer and quickly change the subject. He didn’t want to be the star of some woman’s military fantasy. He didn’t want to relive the horrors of war to play into some gal’s sex dream or to satisfy morbid curiosity.
Eddie sat back against the cracked-leather seat. Whitney knew he’d been in the military. She’d commented on the pictures in his room once or twice in those early weeks of their roommate arrangement, but she’d never pried. She’d simply nodded and left it alone. Somehow she’d known it was off-limits.
Between Friends
79
And he’d yelled at her for finally feeling comfortable enough with him to ask.
God, he’d really fucked this one up.
His inner psychiatrist pushed for answers. Why had he blown up like that? Why had he told her it wasn’t any of her business when, clearly, it was?
Miranda.
He shuddered inwardly at the very thought of that lying bitch.
She’d been one of those war-hero junkies. She’d been his nurse in the VA hospital where he’d been sent for treatment and therapy. Man, he’d been so blind and stupid. He’d fallen for her hook, line, and sinker.
And then she’d met Mick and had happily become the filling in their man-sandwich, so to speak. Eddie had allowed himself to dream.
He’d envisioned all those things he’d been craving for so long only to have his hopes dashed.
Those old scars on his body were like the physical manifestations of the emotional wounds she’d inflicted. He didn’t like to talk about them because it brought up all those old memories of Miranda, memories he preferred remained buried.
But those were his hang-ups and didn’t give him the
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