Not Another Soldier by Samantha Holt Page A

up to standing.
    His eyes are wary and he looks tense, like he’s going
to explode at any moment.
    Baffled, I thrust out the T-shirt. “It’s one of Rob’s.
I don’t know why I still have them really. Or would it be weird wearing his
stuff?” He doesn’t respond so I hesitate before turning around and chucking the
T-shirt back in the drawer. That was a stupid idea. “Sorry, guess it would be.”
    With a wry laugh, he nods. “Yeah, I don’t want to be
wearing his stuff, but I got to tell you, babe, I’m more worried about your night clothes.”
    “What?”
    “If you’re sleeping like that,” he motions with one
hand down me, “then it’s going to make me sleeping there,” now he points to the
couch, “a real trial. ‘Cause when you bend over in those shorts, all I want to
do is take you to bed and peel them from you.”
    I slap a hand to my hot cheeks. I feel scalded by his
words and at the same time secretly pleased. I suppose I lost a lot of
confidence when Rob stopped having sex with me. Though I know I’ve got a good a
figure, I think there’s more to being sexy than that. I just don’t feel like I
have that ‘thing’ that makes a person sexy.
    But Nick’s words make me think otherwise. And I sure
felt sexy in bed with him yesterday morning. I search for something witty to
say. Something a hot, sensual woman would utter, but nothing comes and I stand
there stupidly gaping.
    “Sleep well, short stuff.”
    I nod.
    “And tomorrow, we’re getting rid of those damned
T-shirts.”
    Before I can react, he’s gone and has closed the
bedroom door behind him. I step away from the drawer, kick it shut and sink
onto my bed.
    I never considered how Nick felt toward Rob after his
death. I assumed he must have grieved for the guy who was his best friend, but
I’ve seen Nick grieve and I know full well he does it stoically. When he was in
the fire fight that injured his leg, he lost three men. Even then, he remained
so calm and in control.
    But that reaction — it was
so negative. More like something you’d expect between an ex-boyfriend and a new
boyfriend. Except Nick isn’t my boyfriend and Rob was his best friend. Even if
we have been nursing this attraction for a while—and I don’t even want think
about that—surely that doesn’t change the fact they were close friends? He’s
said stuff that’s hinted at his frustration with Rob but I guess I assumed he
still considered him his friend. God, who knows? I don’t feel like I know
anything right now.
    I slide into the sheets and take a sip of water before
placing it back on the side table. I probably shouldn’t pick at it, but it’s
bugging me. How does Nick really feel about Rob? His words before, when he
expressed his disgust about the way Rob treated me… I didn’t even pick up on it
but I’d always believed Nick was kind of blinded to Rob’s behavior like I was
in the beginning.
    Guys worshipped Rob and though I knew Nick was too
smart for that, their shared history—growing up as friends—seemed to have
cemented their friendship forever. It always prevented me from telling Nick
absolutely everything. Like how Rob had struck out at me. But maybe Nick saw
most of it anyway. He is a damned clever guy after all.
    And I’m an idiot. I smack my pillow and try to get
comfy. I am an idiot. I know I am. I’ve got a hot, amazing guy lying on my
couch and my experience with Rob is holding me back.
    Shit. I put an arm over my eyes and will myself to
sleep. I do not need to be thinking about Nick right now. I should be moving
on, getting my place sorted and considering buying a new car. One that hasn’t
been involved in drug trafficking.
    I shake my head. Oh, Rob, what went so wrong with
you?
    ***
    I’m not sure when I fell asleep but I must have since
I was having all sorts of weird dreams about Rob and Nick. Rob was trying to persuade
me to sell drugs for him at the hospital and Nick just got angry about his
T-shirts. And then it got heated.