Chapter One:

Paisley

22. Ditch responsibilities and head to the beach.

Breathe and drop the towel. That’s what people did at the beach, right? They wore swimsuits and didn’t hide behind enormous beach towels. You can do this. I could be fierce. I used to be, I just had to remember how.

I sucked the humid Florida air past my lips, tasting salt from the ocean. My heart skipped, and I gripped the towel tighter.

“She was afraid to come out of the locker. She was afraid that somebody would see,” Morgan sang next to me, her southern drawl even more pronounced than mine.

“You hush up,” I whispered. I was embarrassed enough without her making a scene.

“You promised, Paisley.” Morgan tugged at the towel, but I held rm.

I swallowed, trying to keep lunch in my stomach. “I know, and I’ll do it. I just need a minute.”

Her exaggerated sigh did nothing to calm my nerves. “It’s just a bathing suit.”

“It’s a bikini, Morgan, which is most definitely not just a bathing suit.” I dug my toes into the white sand.

“You’ve got an amazing body. I don’t know why this is such a big deal.” She adjusted her sunglasses and pulled back her ebony hair, her towel long since replaced by unwavering confidence. I may have agreed to a two-piece, but my boy shorts and a halter-style tankini top covered a heck of a lot more than Morgan’s triangle confection.

“Look, it’s our one day away from everything before classes start. This was your idea.”

“Right.” Yes, one day of wildness, freedom, where I wasn’t just a Donovan. Besides, the beach was the easiest box to check on the bucket list, and I was down to 231 days.

“Paisley, no one cares who you are here or what you’re wearing. There are no expectations but your own, just another college girl at the beach. Pretend you’re not…you know…you.” She waved her hand at me. “Now drop that towel before I pitch a fit.”

Pretend. Yeah, I could do that. Deep breath.

I straightened my posture like Mama was watching and let go of the towel like she wasn’t. Now, if only I could have shed my inhibitions with it. Morgan nodded with approval, and we headed toward a group of acquaintances from school.

“Hey, y’all!” Morgan called, laying out our beach towels at the edge of the group.

I gave a small smile and wave then turned down a beer, which Morgan claimed. By the looks of it, they’d all been drinking for a while. I sprawled out on my towel and debated wrapping myself in it. I was never allowed to be this exposed at home. What would people think? Mama’s voice burrowed through the sunshine.

I ran my finger down the line of my sternum. No, I’d bare this little bit of skin while it was still pretty, before I let the surgeons get their hands on it. And really, it didn’t matter what the outside of my body looked like, not when it was failing from the inside.

“You’re going to burn that fair skin of yours,” Morgan lectured, handing me a bottle of SPF 90.

I thought twice then slipped off my purple watch, stashing it away before slathering the lotion everywhere I could reach. I didn’t want it to get all oily.

Oh, now that was a lie. I just didn’t want to wear the darn thing.

“You blondes always seem to burn faster.” A deep voice spoke from behind me.

I craned my head and lowered my sunglasses. The guy looked like every other college-aged guy I saw, nothing special or descriptive. Maybe being with Will blinded me to other guys, but I certainly didn’t get the hormonal rushes Morgan cooed about.

Crud. He was waiting for a response. Don’t embarrass Morgan. I gave an easy smile. “Sunscreen saves the day.”

Sunscreen saves the day? Kill me now.

He gave me the “Wow, you’re a total dork” look I knew well but masked it with a smile. “Right. Can I…uh…get your back for you?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I answered, shorter than I meant to.

“Oh, okay?” he said and quickly retreated.

Morgan’s sigh reminded me how bad I was at this socializing stuff. “Just because you’re pretty much married to Will doesn’t mean a guy can’t put sunscreen on you.”

“Being together for a year isn’t married, but I’m not about to let a stranger put his hands on me.”

She spread the lotion across my back, careful to cover me completely. “I know, darlin’. How is it being in the same town with him?”

It took me a second to mull that over. “It’s nice. I’m still getting used to seeing him more than a couple days every few months.”

“Well, y’all rocked that long-distance stuff.” She motioned to my Kindle. “Just don’t forget about the real world, okay?” She gawked past me to a crowd of guys playing Ultimate Frisbee near the surf. “Like that piece of eye candy!”

I peeked to see what had her drooling like a hound. “You know, there’s more to a man than how he looks. You have to know what’s—”

Sweet Lord, have mercy.

My Kindle hit the sand with my jaw. I’d never seen a man so beautiful, so raw in energy, or so…delicious looking. He stood easily over six feet tall and had no problem leaping for the Frisbee. His blue board shorts hung low on his hips, and his chest was beautifully bare, colored in tattoos that stretched across his abdomen, half his chest, and down one arm. The Florida sun caressed the line of his carved abs, giving him a ne sheen of perspiration that made his skin glow.

His blond hair was cut close, but long enough to wave, and it framed a gorgeous face. Strong nose, angular lines of his cheekbones, a solid chin, and oh…dimples in his cheeks when he grinned. He belonged on a beach. I halfway expected to find a label on him that said “Mr. California.” He looked laid-back, even by Florida standards.

My heartbeat sped up, my lips parted, and my hands itched to touch him. Heck, I was shocked my thighs hadn’t popped open of their own volition. What color were his eyes? I couldn’t tell from this distance, and maybe that saved me from the utter disgrace of admitting that I was attracted to someone other than my boyfriend.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone and simply…wanted, but I sure did now.

Mr. California’s eyes focused on us when Morgan whistled through her fingers.

“Morgan!” I hissed.

“Oh, lighten up, Lee. I whistled; I didn’t drop his pants. Not that I’d mind that.”

Heat raced through my cheeks, not because her suggestion embarrassed me but because in that second I envisioned myself sliding those board shorts down over his hips and— No! What on earth was wrong with me?

Will. Will. Will. I forced his face to my mind, his close- cropped brown hair, his gentle, amber-colored eyes. Yes, Will. Not golden beach god over there.

“You could say hi, Lee,” Morgan suggested. “Flirting never hurt anyone.”

“No, thank you.” First, I wouldn’t do that to Will. Second, what would I even say to someone like that? Hi, I’m Paisley. I’m twenty years old, and my heart is a ticking time bomb.

Want to be friends? I thought not.

“There’s Luke! Do you want to hop on the WaveRunners with us?” Morgan asked, waving back at a guy near the water.

“I’d rather not. There’s a red flag out.” Hence a giant vat of death just hankering to swallow me whole.

“That one’s just the warning; the beach isn’t closed or anything.”

“I’m just not a fan of the water.”

“Okay, well, I’m getting your feet in the water sometime today, spoilsport!” She took off with a smile and a wave.

I snuck a glance over at Mr. California, who was surrounded by at least four different bikini-clad girls. It was no surprise; boys like that attracted attention. Heck, I was happy with Will, but Mr. California had my attention, too.

I sighed. There would be no reading if staring at him was an option. I traded my Kindle for my hot-pink sarong and stood, wrapping it around my waist.

The pier jutted out over the crystal blue-green water, and I wandered over to it, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me and not on the Frisbee players. That would never be me, running up and down the beach for fun. I couldn’t run like that if my life depended on it. Actually, my life depended on me not running.

A fresh wave of heat wafted off the wooden boards of the pier before a gust of wind took it away. My sarong billowed out behind me as I explored, entranced by the rhythm of the waves.

When I reached the middle of the deserted pier, I leaned on the railing, my hair whipping me in the face and sticking to my lip balm.

Someone touched my bare shoulder. I turned, pulling my hair off my face. It was one of the guys from Morgan’s group. He was massive and scared the daylights out of me when he swayed, obviously drunk, and nearly knocked me over. “You’re Lee, right?” he slurred, his eyes vague.

“Yes?”

“Morgan told me to get your feet wet.” He bent down and plucked me right off my feet. Ugh. He smelled like a brewery.

My muscles stiffened in protest, and I pushed away from him. “I’d really rather not. I’m fixin’ to go read. Could you please put me down?” I tried to be polite, but when he started for the other side of the pier, panic set in.

“She said you’d say anything to get outta going in the water.” He laughed, his drawl sounding more sloshed than southern.

“Please, don’t!” I cried out, shoving away from him in earnest.

“Oh, come on now, it’s just a little water. You can fix your hair once you’re out.” He leaned his head over the side of the pier, and my eyes popped wide at the twenty-foot drop. “This looks faster than walking over to the beach, doesn’t it?”

“No!” I screamed, throwing everything my five-foot- two frame had against his concrete arms. “No! No! No!” I kicked, thrashing in his arms, but there was no give. My heart pounded and my throat closed up.

He laughed, like this was some kind of joke. “Aw, girl, you know you’ll love it once we’re in! You go first.”

He climbed up onto the rail, and I had to say it—keeping this embarrassing secret was going to get me killed. “Please! I can’t swim!”

He wouldn’t stop laughing as he swayed unpredictably, leaning over toward the water.

“No, really, I can’t!” I stopped fighting and started clinging. He wouldn’t drop me over. He wouldn’t. Things like this didn’t really happen.

His hands gripped my waist and pulled me away from him. “In you go!” It seemed effortless to him, taking away my last vestige of safety, and he tossed me into the air.

Everything stilled. My heart ceased its beat as I was airborne. The fall took forever and was over before I could blink.

I screamed the whole way down.

Cold water engulfed me, and didn’t let go. The impact stole the air from my lungs, and I clung to what was left, fighting the instant urge to suck in. I sank, my head far beneath the surface, but I was scared to open my eyes. My feet hit bottom with a soft impact, and I pushed up with every ounce of strength I had, clawing at the water. Momentum brought me to the surface, and as I broke it, I gulped in a breath and screamed for help.

The next wave smothered my cry, hurling me under in a twisted death grip. My body was jerked in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. Salt water burned my nose. I kicked viciously, reaching for the surface. Where was it? I flipped over again. And again.

No surface. No air. Where was it?

My heart raced in a dangerous beat, too fast. Way too fast. If I wasn’t going to drown, I was going to have a heart attack. But I still have 231 days!

A wave swept me to the surface, and I flung my head back, desperate for air. I spent a precious second pulling the hair from my mouth to get to the sweet oxygen and took a gasping breath. I couldn’t manage a scream before I was swept down again, my mouth full of seawater.

The urge to breathe in overwhelmed every other thought, but I couldn’t do it. I swept my hands up, trying to get to air, but the wave wasn’t bringing me up this time. No, another one came, knocking me farther down. My chest was going to burst if I didn’t let the pressure go. It would be so easy just to let it go. I’m going to die out here.

It was supposed to be peaceful, right? Drowning? This wasn’t peaceful. This was terrifying, and it hurt. I wasn’t giving in that easily or drowning because some drunk boy threw me into the ocean. Mama wouldn’t survive it. Peyton would have fought…if she’d had that chance.

Her face brought me the fight I needed, those green eyes that mirrored my own. I kicked harder, aiming for the sparkling surface above. Kick harder, Paisley. Don’t give up. Not now. I heard her voice; lack of oxygen was shutting down my brain. It wouldn’t be long before my re exes took over and I either lost consciousness or sucked in a lungful of the Gulf of Mexico.

Another wave assaulted me, stealing the last bit of oxygen from my lungs. There was nothing…left. Which direction was up? Where…was I? Don’t breathe in…don’t…

I heard my mother’s voice, but that was impossible, right? “Paisley, stop that nonsense. Peyton will always be older. That’s never going to change. When you’re six, she’ll be eight. When you’re sixteen, she’ll be eighteen. Even when she’s eighty-two, she’ll be older.”

“No, she won’t. She’ll be dead.”

The wave tossed me into the pier, and I felt the impact on my shoulder before my head struck the wood. Then I felt nothing.

Chapter Two

Jagger

One day I’m not going to fail, and it’s going to shock the hell out of you.

Holy shit. Did that guy just throw that pretty little blonde off the pier?

I ditched the redhead in my arms and jumped the last two stairs onto the deck. Run. My strides consumed the distance to the railing where she’d gone over, my arms pumping furiously. Get there. Faster.

The asshole had thrown her into the water when she’d begged him not to. What the fuck was he thinking? Goose bumps erupted over my skin as she screamed, the sound tearing through me long after the water covered her.

I shoved the juicehead out of my way as he stood there gawking like he hadn’t been the one to drop her twenty feet to the ocean. The waves weren’t fucking around today, obscuring the normally clear water. I climbed the railing and balanced on the edge, scanning the water. Come on, Little Bird, where are you?

There.

Her blond hair popped above the surface for a priceless second before a wave dragged her under again, but it was long enough for her to cry out.

“Get help!” I shouted at the fumbling idiot, whose slack- jawed expression suggested he might finally understand what he’d done.

Stepping out into nothing, my arms circled to slow my impact. A deep breath, and I cut into the water, submerging with brutal force.

I scanned around me fruitlessly before I had to get to the surface and breathe. One breath later, a wave came in and pushed me toward the beach, away from where I’d seen her. The hell with that. I wasn’t leaving without her.

The salt water scraped my eyes as I dove, kicking deeper. There she is! Limp, her arms semi-raised, her hair floated in a morbid halo, the blond catching the light from the sun through the water. Fuck. I was not too late. I refused to fail. Not in this.

I swam down to her, looped one arm around her waist, and kicked furiously for the surface, my lungs burning. Give me skates and ice and I’d decimate everyone, but I was mediocre in the water. Mediocrity wasn’t something I handled well.

We burst through to the air. I rolled onto my back, pulled her face up onto my chest, and kicked for the shore.

A wave washed over us, sending water rushing up my nose, but I brought us back to the surface, keeping my arm like a vise around her. She wasn’t breathing, but she wasn’t too blue yet.

My legs caught the material of her skirt, and I untied the knot at her waist, letting it wash away. A few dozen sure, solid kicks later, we reached where the waves stopped fighting us and instead pushed us closer to the shore. Just another minute. She could make it another minute.

Stark relief gutted me when my feet touched the sand. I lifted her into my arms, trying to keep her head balanced against my shoulder. Still not fucking breathing.

I pushed my way through the resistance of the water. “Dude! Is she okay?” The juicehead asked from shore. He was lucky my hands were busy at the moment.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” I seethed, pushing past him. I made it onto the beach and put her down, then checked for breath. None.

Lowering my ear to her chest, I caught her faint heartbeat.

I would have thanked God if I’d believed he existed.

I tilted back her head, and for the first time didn’t check out the looks of the woman I was about to put my mouth on. Plugging her nose, I pulled her jaw down, then sealed my mouth over hers, breathing for us both. I counted out the breaths and laid my hand on her chest, checking again for that precious heartbeat.

“Come on, Little Bird.”

The seconds slowed to small measures of infinity before she sputtered, water spewing from her mouth. I rolled her to the side as she forced out the rest with coughing heaves, her slight body convulsing.

All of the adrenaline abandoned me, leaving only exhaustion. She hadn’t died. She was alive. I hadn’t failed. When she finished, I brought her to her back, watching the rise and fall of her chest like it was going to stop any second. I leaned over her as she took a shaky breath.

Damn, her face was as perfect up close as I’d thought. Small, delicate features on top of plump, parted lips. I’d seen her as I ran down the beach, but I figured she’d be a Monet—pretty from afar, but a mess up close—like most of the girls today. I was wrong.

She was beautiful, and not in the fake, made-up way. “Hey, are you okay?” I asked.

“Thank you,” she whispered in a sweet southern accent as her eyes opened wide in shock. Words failed me. Green. Holy shit, her eyes were huge and the clearest shade of pale green I’d ever seen, with a ring of forest green on the edges. My heart skipped and then began to pound. I ran my barbell across my teeth, speechless for the first time since…ever and reminded myself that I did not believe in love at first sight, or that insane voice in my head that clearly said, “Mine.”

Her eyes widened. “Mr. California?”

What? A smile broke out across my face. “Not exactly. I’m from Colorado. Luckily they teach mouth-to-mouth there, too.”

She gasped, leaning on her elbows. “Mouth to— I have a boyfriend!”

Indignant. She was offended? “And…he would take objection to me saving your life?”

She blinked several times, her lips parting. Keep your thoughts off her lips. “N-n-no. He just wouldn’t take kindly to someone else’s mouth on mine.” Her chest heaved as she sat up, and her eyes glazed.

I yanked the nearest beach towel to us, not caring that it belonged to Masters, wherever the hell he was, and wrapped it around her, then cupped her face with one of my hands, strangely tender. I was not a tender kind of guy. Hell, no. I was a no-effort, easy-lay, forget-’em-before-morning guy. “Well, next time I’ll make sure to ask him first, okay?”

She nodded, drawing her knees to her chest. “You saved me.”

“You were drowning.”

A shadow fell on us. The idiot was here. “Hey, man, that was so cool how you—” I turned as I stood, my fist taking my momentum into his jaw. He blinked as he stumbled until his ass hit the sand. “She’s fine!” he called over to the small group that had gathered.

“Jerk,” she muttered, wincing, and raised a hand to the back of her head.

“Are you okay?”

Her nose scrunched. “I think I hit my head on the pier.” I brushed her hand and hair away to see the swelling goose egg. “You need to get checked out. Let me get you to the doctor, okay?”

She shook her head, her hand hovering above her heart. “No, no doctors.”

She muttered something that sounded like, “My parents will kill me.” She looked too old to care what her parents thought, but with that sweet-as-honey southern accent, I bet she was raised pretty old-fashioned. The opposite of my fend-for-yourself upbringing.

“Do you want to call your boyfriend?”

She grimaced. “Will wouldn’t understand. God, it was silly of me to come here.”

“Who are you here with?”

“My friend Morgan, but she’s out on the WaveRunner…” We both scanned the coastline, but I didn’t see anyone. She shrank in on herself, becoming even smaller, if that was possible. She was already fucking tiny, over a head shorter than I was, but rounded in every place I worshipped on a woman. She was…well, damn, she was as perfect in her body as her face.

Her cough dragged my horny mind out of her pants. What the hell was wrong with me? The girl almost drowned five minutes ago. “You need a doctor, just to check you out. I’ve heard too many stories of people who drown hours later from the fluid in their lungs.”

She rested her hand on her chest, her forehead wrinkled like she was thinking, before she nodded. “Okay, I’ll get Morgan’s keys and find an urgent care.”

My mouth dropped. “You’re not going to drive yourself. I’ll take you…” I wanted to pull some Jedi mind shit to get her to say her name.

“Paisley,” she answered. Jackpot. “And I don’t get in cars with strangers.”

I grinned. “I’m Jagger, and since I’ve had my mouth on yours, I’d hardly call us strangers.” A pretty blush crept over her face. She was enchanting. Enchanting? Just start spouting poetry and shit while you’re at it.

“I guess if you were going to kill me, you would have left me to drown, not pulled me to shore.” A devilish gleam sparked in her eyes. “But you did kiss me without consent.” Damn. That smile. Killer.

“I promise, Paisley”—I called her by name just so I could feel it curl around my tongue—“if I kiss you, you’ll know it.” Her smile faltered and something intangible passed between us. I cleared my throat. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”

“Okay.”

I stood and helped her to her feet. She pulled the towel closer to her. “I need my cover-up.”

“I may have cut it loose while I was pulling you ashore.”

“Oh. Right.” She sighed and led me to her beach spot, then slipped shorts and a T-shirt over those curves. Shame, really. She grabbed her bag. “Ready.”

We crossed the sand wordlessly, washed our feet at the little shower sprayer on the octagon deck, and headed to the parking lot.

I unlocked the passenger door of my Defender and held it open. Paisley tossed her bag inside, sank her teeth into her lower lip, and then looked at me. “I can’t get in here.”

What? “You’re going to the damned doctor.”

She laughed, and I immediately wanted to hear it again. “No, I mean, I physically can’t get up here unless you have a ladder.”

“No problem.” I put my hands on her waist and lifted her in. Do not think about sex. Don’t do it.

Too late.

I slammed her door home, climbed into my side, and had my GPS find the nearest urgent care. “Let’s go, Lucy.”

“You named your car?”

I turned the key, and she purred. “Absolutely. She’s the most dependable woman in my life.” Lucy had been my mother’s last gift to me and the lift kit a to-me-from-me present, my reward for getting the hell away.

Five minutes and a red light later, we were there. She signed in, and I settled into the uncomfortable plastic waiting-room chair. At least I’d remembered to throw a shirt on, but my trunks dripped water down my legs, forming puddles on the linoleum floor as she took the seat next to me.

“Why would your parents kill you?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d really be okay.” She picked at the leather of her purse.

“Let’s make a deal. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. We’ve got a few minutes where our lives overlap, so let’s agree not to lie to each other. Don’t worry about what I think, just tell the truth.”

A blush crept up her neck, coloring her skin pink. “They’re just a little overprotective. They don’t like it when they don’t know what I’m up to.”

“They don’t know you’re at the beach?”

She tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. It fell beneath her collarbone. “They think I’m unpacking my new townhouse. I have my debit card, so if I pay cash and keep it off my insurance, they won’t know I was here. This is what I get for lying, right?” She sighed. “We start classes next week, so it seemed like good timing to get away. No homework yet, and I have the week off of work, and… Oh, I’m rambling.” She forced a fake smile and examined her knees.

“I like rambling.” Shit. I did when she was the one rambling. “What are you majoring in?”

“You’ll laugh.” She stole a look sideways at me, and those green eyes chewed me up and spat me out.

“I won’t.”

“Guess. Go ahead. Guess the most boring major you can think of. Of course, I find it fascinating.” She blinked at me all too seriously.

“Underwater toenail painting.”

She laughed, and there went that word through my damn head again. Enchanting. “No. Try again.”

“Antigravitational basket weaving?”

“Oh, you’re just about hopeless.”

I may be hopeless, but you’re smiling. “Tell me.”

Her eyes narrowed, like she was judging me, deciding if I was worthy to know her secret. “Okay. Library sciences.”

“A librarian.” I couldn’t stop the images playing in my head: pressing her petite body against the books in the stacks. Shit.

“See, you think it’s lame.”

“‘Lame’ is the word farthest from my mind, trust me.” Her smile returned, this time genuine, and I struggled to find anything else to say that wouldn’t make me sound like a moron.

She pulled out her phone and sent a text. “Morgan’s going to worry when she gets back and can’t find me.”

“You should call your boyfriend, too. I’m sure he’d want to know what happened.” The image of finding her was burned into my brain. Pale, not breathing, lying limp on the bottom of the ocean floor.

“Oh, no. Will wouldn’t want to know. He’d be furious.”

“Furious that you came to the beach?”

Her fingers flexed across her sternum. “That I came to the beach, that I moved out of my parents’ into my own place, that I’ve had a job now for six months that he doesn’t know about… It’s going to be an interesting conversation, let’s just say that.”

“How long have you two been together?” Why the fuck do you care?

“Almost a year.”

“You in love with him?”

Her head whipped toward mine, her eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your business.”

Ah, there was some fire beneath that honey exterior.

“Well, either you are, but you’re a private person, or you aren’t, but you don’t lie well, and I thought we weren’t lying here…so which is it?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. I was good at that, finding someone’s trigger, setting them off for the hell of it, but that hadn’t been my intention here. Fuck.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes softened. “No, it’s just that we were apart for so long while he was at—”

“Paisley?” the nurse called.

“That’s me.” She raised her hand and stood. “Would you mind waiting here?” she asked, something like fear flickering across her face.

Like I was going to leave her? “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll wait for you.” I grabbed the magazine next to me and pretended to read as I watched her walk away. I could do that all day.

It took her an hour, but by the time she came out, I’d convinced the checkout lady to tell Paisley it was a free clinic, and I’d handed over my card to cover her. Hell, it wasn’t really my money anyway.

“All clear!” she said with a smile, but she looked pale again.

I forced a smile and held open the door, something I always did out of habit, but for Paisley, I wanted to.

The Florida humidity closed in as we walked out of the clinic.

“Morgan?” Paisley called out as a girl came running across the parking lot, all legs and cleavage behind a mess of brunette hair, my usual type. Usual? When did I start thinking usual?

“Oh my Gawd.” She drew out that last word in a deeper accent. “I never thought he would do that!” She threw her arms around Paisley and burst into tears. “I’m so sorry!”

Paisley patted her back but didn’t cry. She hadn’t shed a tear through any of it. “It’s okay, Morgan. I’m okay.”

Her friend pulled away and smacked her shoulder. “You have to learn to swim!”

“Okay,” Paisley placated her. She turned toward me with a shy smile. “Besides, Mr. California here pulled me out, so some good came of it, right?”

“That’s an insult to a Coloradan. You know that, right? And it’s Jagger.”

Morgan took a long sweep of me with her eyes, something I was pretty used to, but it annoyed me instead of setting off my usual seek-and-fuck response.

“Aren’t you the hero?” She used a breathy tone of voice I was sure frequently worked like a charm. She swayed over to me, running her fingers up my chest. “Anything I can do to say thank you for saving my best friend?”

Over Morgan’s shoulder, Paisley stiffened, and I pulled away. “Yeah, you can thank me by teaching her to swim. It was close.” Too close.

“Absolutely!” She hugged Paisley again. “Let’s get home and unpack?” She skipped across the pavement to a white sedan.

Paisley nodded, then walked to me slowly, her eyes darting across the ground like she couldn’t focus or think of what to say. She looked at me when we were a foot or so apart. We stared at each other in charged silence for a moment, and then she flung herself up, jumping slightly.

I caught her tiny frame easily, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, laying her head over my shoulder as her feet dangled. “Thank you for saving me. For seeing me.”

I held her tightly, savoring the only time I’d feel this girl against me. She smelled like salt water and Florida sun. “I saw you way before you went into the water, Paisley. I’d say you’re welcome, but I’m just thankful I got to you.” She loosened her hold, and I let her slip to her feet. Letting go sucked, plain and simple.

She retreated toward the car, keeping her eyes locked on mine. It was everything I could do to let her go, not to demand her phone number, her address, a way to see her again. After all, she’d come to the beach to escape, not to get stalked by me.

She paused with her hand on the door. “I love Will. He’s my best friend, a part of my family, and he…he knows what I need. He’s good for me.” She gave me a smile that about sent me to my knees. “I’m so glad I met you, Jagger.”

She opened her door and moved to get in.

“Paisley!” I called out, unable to stop myself.

She turned her head with raised eyebrows.

“He’s a lucky bastard, and I hope he knows it.”

Chapter Three

Paisley

8. Keep some semblance of peace in my life.

I parked at my parents’ house on Fort Rucker and did a double take. Was that…? Yes, it was. Daddy was going to be frosted when he found out, if he hadn’t already seen it. Maybe I should skip breakfast this morning.

The fifteen-foot-tall polar bear statue that kept watch across from the museum now stood guard in Daddy’s front yard, wrapped in dozens of PT belts. That thing was at least fifteen hundred pounds, and I tipped my hat to whoever had moved it.

At least this wouldn’t be boring.

I grabbed my handbag and headed for the house. As flight school class pranks went, this was a pretty good one.

This new class had just started, and they were already at it. Good for them.

I heard Daddy from his office before I even shut the door.

“I don’t care what your goddamned schedule says! Get that thing off my lawn! And you’d better handle the responsible party!” His voice echoed through the foyer, but our golden retrievers, Layla and Clapton, didn’t move from their prone position, only thumped their tails when they saw me.

“Y’all are some great guard dogs.” I bent down to pet them.

“It had better be gone by lunch, Major. Damned polar bear.” The phone crashed in its cradle a moment before the French doors opened. “Lee-Lee!” Daddy embraced me lightly. I missed real hugs, the ones so tight I thought my ribs might break. “You ready for breakfast?”

“Famished and wasting away,” I joked, patting my belly.

“You girls, all worried about your figures. A man likes curves, my gal.” His arm around my shoulders, we crossed through the living room to the kitchen, where my mother finished the gravy.

“Oh, Lee, you’re actually here.” She smiled. “Could you take the biscuits out?”

“I told you I would be, Mama. We agreed, once a week.” I grabbed the nearest pot holder and took the biscuits out of the oven, careful to place them on the silver trivet she’d laid out. “Perfect as always.”

“You flatter me. Now, grab a plate, your daddy only has fifteen minutes before they notice he’s not an hour early and the world ends.”

“Ha.” Daddy kissed her on the cheek, his tan T-shirt almost complementary to Mama’s blue shirtdress and Army Wife apron. We’d given it to her for Christmas when I was ten, and she still wore it religiously.

“Is Will coming?” Mama asked, setting four places at the table.

“He said he’d be here at seven fifteen.” I took glasses down for orange juice.

“Damn, I just might miss him,” Daddy muttered.

“Richard! Language!” My mom swatted his backside when she thought I couldn’t see. “We are certainly not your soldiers!”

He laughed and winked at her. “Ah, my poor little southern belles, are my Yankee manners offending you?”

“Lack of manners.” She sighed and waved him off with a smile. “Get your plate.”

The doorbell set the dogs barking. “Tell that boy he doesn’t need to ring the doorbell. He’s family,” Daddy ordered.

I swung the door open, happy to see Will standing in the entry. He looked good, but I still wasn’t used to seeing him in regular uniform. “Good morning, Lee-Lee.” He bent and kissed my cheek. “How are you feeling?”

I ignored his question and instead pressed my mouth to his gently. “I missed you yesterday.”

He pulled me into a familiar hug. “Sorry, honey, class ran late.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know about that polar bear in our front yard, would you?”

With a squeeze of my shoulders, he broke our hug and headed in to breakfast. “Yeah, I might need to talk to your dad about that before I go to class.”

“Will!” Mom exclaimed as she put the food on the table. “So good to see you.”

“You, too, ma’am.” He held my chair, and I slid in, sitting between him and Daddy.

“Oh, you know you can call me Mom.” She heaped food onto his plate.

My stomach dropped slightly. Was that because he was my boyfriend? Or because he’d been Peyton’s best friend?

“Yes, ma’am,” Will smiled with that gorgeous sparkle in his amber eyes. Maybe they weren’t crystal blue like Jagger’s— Stop! I nipped that right in the bud. It had been a week and a half since I’d been pulled out of the ocean by Mr. California…Colorado…whatever, but his face wouldn’t stop popping into my thoughts or invading the peace of my dreams.

He’d saved my life. It made perfect sense that I thought about him. Right? Just maybe not this much. Where was he? Had he headed home to Colorado, like his license plate suggested? Was he in college? Out? What did it feel like to be kissed by a guy with a tongue ring?

“Lee!” Mama snapped.

I found a biscuit crushed in my left hand and heard a beeping sound coming from the kitchen. “Ma’am?”

“Your alarm?” She pointed to the counter where my handbag rested.

I nodded, throwing away my decimated biscuit on the way to the counter. Slipping my cell phone out of the bag, I canceled the reminder. I left the phone in my bag—Mama wouldn’t stand for it at the table—and took my seat again.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take them right after I eat. They make me sick on an empty stomach.” I grabbed another biscuit, breaking it in half before placing it on my plate.

“I think you should—”

“Honey, maybe you could just grab them—”

“Magnolia. Will. Give her a break. She’ll take them after she eats.” Daddy’s voice stopped them mid-complaint, and I smiled my thanks at him. He nodded but didn’t look happy as he went back to his breakfast.

My mouth watered as I reached for the gravy.

“Oh, Lee, I made you a fruit salad instead.” Mama handed the crystal bowl across the table.

I scooped the fruit onto my plate, still eyeing the gravy. “Thank you.”

“Have you told Dr. Larondy our decision yet?” she asked, staring at my plate and counting every calorie I wasn’t allowed to work off.

I froze mid-chew, and Will squeezed my knee under the table, sending silent support. I just never knew for whom. Swallowing slowly, I thought through my response.

“I haven’t—”

“Lee, you can’t put this off.” Her voice rose.

“—because I haven’t made my decision yet.”

Well, if that didn’t hush her right up. Her fork rattled on the breakfast china. “We decided that the procedure—”

“You decided, Mama,” I rebuked, keeping my voice as low and respectful as I could. “I haven’t had symptoms since we started the beta-blockers, and while I respect your choice and your wishes—”

“But you don’t, not really.” Oh, here we go. “You couldn’t possibly respect us, love us, if you’re willing to risk your life like this. Every day you wait is too long. To even think of putting your father and I through this again is just unforgivable, Lee. This is your life we’re talking about!”

“Magnolia, enough.” Daddy’s voice was soft but stern. “We don’t have these breakfasts so you can bully her.”

I swallowed my response, knowing Mama spoke from grief and fear. Maybe she was right, and I was selfish, wanting to make this decision myself, when it affected so much more than me.

I wasn’t just trapped by my condition, the thickening of my heart muscle. HCM might limit me, but the cage I lived in was fortified by my parents’ expectations, locked by their grief over Peyton, and gilded by my own need to lessen their pain by whatever degree possible.

The right thing would be to agree with them, accept the half life the internal pacemaker sentenced me to, and make everyone happy. Even Will wanted it, though he said he’d support whatever decision I made.

But the right thing felt unbearably wrong. My instincts screamed at me every time I even considered the pacemaker. It wasn’t going to save me, and I couldn’t explain how I knew, but I did. I was sick of this. Don’t run. Don’t eat fatty foods. Don’t drink. Don’t forget your meds. Don’t upset your mama, and for God’s sake, don’t raise your heartbeat. Don’t…live, just exist.

The need to flee gripped me, but I stayed put. I had my own place now, with their blessing, and even had one class up at Troy. One helping of guilt for breakfast a week was manageable. I squeezed Will’s fingers, and he took the cue.

“The gravy is fantastic this morning, ma’am.”

Mama forced a smile and accepted his compliment. I took a couple deep breaths and concentrated on chewing.

“How are classes, my gal?” Daddy asked.

“Good. I love this semester, especially the class at Troy. I think next semester I’ll be okay for the rest of the classes I need to take there.”

His brow furrowed. “I like it better when you can take the classes here on post.”

Activate appeasement mode. “I know, Daddy, but they don’t offer all the classes I need down here. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive. I don’t mind.” The commute was a small price to pay to pretend my life was normal once a week. It was a battle I was willing to pick.

“Well, I mind,” he muttered, eating his food so fast I’d swear he was being timed.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. I couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t end badly, so I stayed quiet.

“Will, tell us how your first week went?” Mama asked.

Will slid his hand from my knee like she could see him under the table. “Well, ma’am, it’s not West Point, but it’s nice to have some freedom.” He flashed that grin, the one that had hooked me, and a smile spread across my face as he turned to me. “Plus, the company is much better. It’s nice to be close to Lee.”

Mama rested her hand on her chest and sighed. “It’s lovely to see you two together in person, instead of on the computer. Two peas in a pod.”

Will brushed a kiss across my knuckles. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Have you given any thought to which aircraft you’re going to select?” Daddy asked.

“Yes, sir. I’d like to y the AH-64.”

Daddy’s eyes lit up, and he raised his eyebrows. “Ah, the Apache. Good choice. You’ll have to rank at the top of the OML after primary to select that.”

“Order of Merit list,” Will explained as Daddy stood.

“Will’s going to have to finish this phase of flight school at the very top of his class if he wants to fly that helicopter, Paisley. There are only a few of those slots per class.”

I nudged Will with my elbow like we were back in high school. “I’m not worried.”

“How do you like the other lieutenants in your class? Are there many of you?” Daddy carried his plate to the sink.

“Five lieutenants and twenty warrant of officers.” Color crept up his neck, and he flexed his jaw. “But it should only be four lieutenants.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked. It took a lot to get under Will’s skin.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Lee-Lee.” He winked, and I swallowed the urge to tell him again how much I hated when he called me that. Lee-Lee was twelve, gangly, and awkward. I hoped that was no longer the case.

“Okay.” I forced out a half smile.

“So about that PT belt–wrapped polar bear?” Daddy asked, zipping his ACU top.

“Yes, sir. I think I need to tell you about that.”

He knows who did it?

Daddy’s hands flexed on the counter. “What do you know, Will?”

“It may have been a class prank gone a little too far.” Oh, yes, his cheeks flushed—his tell.

“Your class?” Daddy’s voice dropped softly, dangerously.

Daddy didn’t yell when he was super mad. Oh, no, he didn’t need to.

“Yes, sir.”

My eyes flickered between Will and Daddy, and my heart picked up a faster beat.

“Will, did you put that thing in the front yard?” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out any more than I could quiet the half of me screaming in hope that he had, that he could break even one rule.

He tore his eyes from my father, meeting mine. “No.” He cupped my face with his hands. “I did not do this.” He looked to Daddy. “But I know who did.”

My stomach turned.

Daddy nodded.“I think we’d best continue this discussion away from the ladies. My of office seems more appropriate.”

“Yes, sir.” Will cleared his plate and took my empty one to the sink. I hurried from the table, standing behind him as he loaded it into the dishwasher.

“You know who did it?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to tell on your classmate?” It hardly seemed like the loyal thing to do.

“A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.” His jaw did the immovable thing that signaled his mind was made up.

“You’re not at the academy anymore, Will. Are you sure you want to do this? You’re in flight school with these guys for the next couple of years. Aren’t you supposed to look out for one another?”

“You think I want guys like this in with me? Being active duty doesn’t change that it was wrong. I tried to stop them, but Bateman wouldn’t listen. That’s a piece of Fort Rucker history that they defaced.”

It’s a bear.

“No one got hurt, and nothing is damaged. It was a harmless prank. Do you know what Daddy will do? You could get them kicked out over a silly polar bear with a few too many PT belts wrapped around it, not to mention they’ll all know you told.”

“William?” Daddy called.

Will’s spine straightened like Daddy had pulled an invisible string. “I can’t expect you to understand, Lee-Lee.” He bent down, his lips brushing my cheek. “You’d better get to class. I don’t know how long this will take with your dad.”

“Remember I have work later. Can I see you tonight?” I needed him to banish the memory of a pair of blue eyes that wouldn’t go away. I also needed to resubmit the paperwork to have minor construction work done at the library. Class, work, then Will. Best plan ever.

He grimaced. “I know you told me last week, but I still hate you working. What if it’s too much?”

“It’s seriously the most heart-happy job I could ask for. Now, tonight?”

“I’ll do my best.” His grin stole away my annoyance of what he was getting ready to do, and I returned the kiss he gifted me, knowing it wouldn’t go any farther with Mama ten feet away. He left me standing in the kitchen.

“That’s the kind of man a woman can be proud of, Lee.” Mama rinsed her own plate. “You’re lucky to have him. Not everyone puts such value on morals.”

I received her message—leave it alone. “I’m headed to class, Mama. Thank you for breakfast. I’ll see you next week?”

Her mouth pursed. “A whole week?”

“We agreed I’d stay here for school and rent that townhouse, but you have to give me a little wiggle room. I’m almost twenty-one.” I kept my voice level. Emotions would only earn me a raised eyebrow and a lecture that I wasn’t ready to be an adult.

Her gaze flickered to the framed family picture behind me, like it always did when she thought about her. “A week it is.”

I hugged her, letting go after one of her signature pats on my back. “I love you, Mama.”

Handbag over my arm, I stopped to brush my fingers over the framed picture in the entryway. Peyton stood in the middle, her pixie face radiant with excitement, dressed identically to Will, on her left, in their gray West Point uniforms, while I hugged her right. Her arms connected us, hopefully approving of what we’d evolved into.

“What would you do, Peyton?” I whispered. “Two hundred twenty days left. What would you have done?”

I missed her so much. A black hole blossomed in my heart, sucking out every breath I’d taken since she’d died, as if I was watching them lay her in the ground. She would’ve known what to do, but she hadn’t needed to make a decision. She’d been free, wild, uninhibited, and paid with her life before she’d even realized there’d been a price. A wretched pang of envy stabbed through me, washed back by the sinking feeling of guilt. She was gone. I was here. I took a couple of deep breaths, pushing the grief where it belonged, in the past.

I almost made it out, but Mama’s voice followed me through the front doorway. “Lee! You take your medication right now!”

“Yes, Mama.”

Chapter Four

Jagger

You’re drowning me, holding me under the rising tide of your impossible expectations.

Every curse word I’d ever heard came to mind as the instructors jumped ship. Literally. My heart pounded in my ears, and I had the split-second desire to bail with them. Fuck that. This was my dream, and had been since I’d seen rotors against a blue sky thirteen years ago. I could do this.

Dunker training was a heaping slice of hell.

The pistons released, and the mock helo sank. Water soaked my boots, rushed past my knees, into my lap, and then up my chest. Wait. Wait. Not yet.

The pool water hit my collarbone, and I sucked in all the air my lungs could hold. I gripped the seat, my ngers

digging in as the water rose over my nose and head. Then they tilted my world on its axis and pitched the aircraft to the right, spinning me upside down. Water forced its way into my nose. This shit sucked.

We stopped moving—it was go time. I fought the panic threatening to force out all my air and concentrated on the harness. My fingers slipped. Double shit. Calm down.

A few concentrated movements and the harness came free. I was out of the seat. Hand over hand, I righted myself, made my way to the window, and popped the seal. My lungs screamed, and I released a small amount of air, relieving the pressure. I pulled myself through the window, making sure I cleared the gigantic helmet. I pushed off the outside of the aircraft and kicked my way to the surface, streaming air from my nose.

At least this time it was only my life at stake and not hers.

I burst through the surface of the water, welcoming the rush of oxygen into my deprived lungs. I’d made it.

“Bateman! That was not the proper hand technique!” the instructor yelled.

I swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted myself up, sitting on the edge. “Well, sir,” I answered as I unclasped my waterlogged helmet, “since we’re sitting here having this conversation, I’m not dead, so I’d have to say the outcome was satisfactory despite me not using your approved hand technique.”

I made it out alive, assface. Josh sat farther down the pool ledge, shaking his head at me like we were on the ice and I’d landed in the penalty box again. What? I’d held my fucking temper.

“That kind of attitude can get you killed in a hard-water landing.”

My mouth opened, ready to overrun my brain. “Right, and—”

“Jagger Bateman?” a captain called from poolside.

“Sir?”

The steel sheen to his eyes said this was anything but a friendly visit. “Major Davidson would like to see you in his office.”

I nodded. “We’re done here in thirty.”

He shook his head. “Get dried off, you’re done. He wants you now.”

************

I waited, cover in my lap, outside Major Davidson’s office. There was only one reason he’d call for me, a butter-bar lieutenant who’d been in class less than two weeks. He knew. He had to.

The asshole had a long reach. I ran through the possible outcomes in my head, what they’d ask for. What I’d agree to. The inevitable phone call that might keep the shit hole of my family life at bay.

I just wanted to fly. That’s it. I couldn’t remember wanting anything else. How could I? But one phone call from my father, and it would all end, or even worse—he’d taint it with his help. I’d gotten here on my own merit, lucky enough to do it with my best friend, and I wasn’t letting him take this from me.

A cute sergeant gave me the eye as she walked by, but I couldn’t muster much interest. One, I knew the fraternization policy and wasn’t risking anything for a piece of tail. Two, I’d sworn off women in general. What was the point working my ass off to get here if I let myself get distracted?

Not going to happen. No woman was worth jeopardizing my dream for.

Well, maybe… Nope, not even that one.

Green eyes skipped across my memory. Where was she? I should have asked where she went to school. I should have asked her last name. Yeah, like you’re anywhere near good enough for a girl like that.

I beat my father’s voice out of my head. It didn’t matter anyway. Paisley was long gone.

“Lieutenant Bateman?”

Here we go. “Major Davidson, sir.” I stood, ready to face my fate.

“In my office, Lieutenant.” He turned in to his of office, leaving me to follow.

The room was sparse but orderly. He leafed through a file on his desk with one hand and motioned to the seat in front of his desk with the other. I took it. My uniform squeaked against the pleather of the military-issue chair as I shifted my weight.

He took a deep breath, and I held mine. “Anything you’d like to tell me about last night?”

Last night? “Sir?”

“You have one chance to come clean, Bateman. After that you’ll be out on your ass. The CG doesn’t tolerate liars any more than he does unexpected lawn ornaments.”

Wait, this was all about the bear? My breath exhaled in sharp relief. “What exactly would you like to know, sir?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’d like to know how a fifteen-foot-tall, fifteen-hundred-pound polar bear wound up on the CG’s lawn.”

“Fifteen hundred pounds? Huh. It didn’t really feel that heavy.” That thing was a behemoth.

The major’s mouth dropped slightly before he caught himself. “So you admit to stealing Sergeant Ted E. Bear?”

Every muscle in my body contracted. Do not laugh. Don’t do it. “That’s really his name?” I kept a straight face. Booyah.

His jaw flexed. “That polar bear is part of Fort Rucker tradition, Lieutenant, something you show a fatal lack of respect for.”

I kept my mouth shut. Sure, I liked to stir the pot, watch the shit fly. But when it was my career on the line? I knew when to play the good boy.

“Did you vandalize the bear?”

“Technically, he came to no harm. He’s standing guard.”

With about twenty-three PT belts wrapped around him.

Major Davidson took a large breath. “Last chance.”

Shit. I couldn’t lie. There was no one else out there in the hallway; they already knew I’d done it. How? Wait… I was the only one out there. They don’t know about Josh and Grayson.

“Yes. I relocated Sergeant Ted E. Bear from his post to the CG’s lawn.” Boom. Fell on the grenade. I just hoped it didn’t blow my future to pieces.

“How?” The major’s eyes were wide—surprised I’d told the truth? Yeah, it was a novel concept to me, too.

“With my truck.”

“You expect me to believe that your truck hauled a fifteen-hundred-pound statue three and a half miles?”

“Three.”

“I’m sorry?” He leaned forward in his chair.

“It’s exactly three miles, not three and a half.” They happened to take forever when hauling a fucking statue.

“Right. And you did this with your truck?”

“It’s a very powerful engine, sir. You’d be amazed what a super winch and a trailer will do.”

“Why?” His tone rose in blatant curiosity.

“Never could back down from a dare, sir. Gaping flaw and whatnot.”

“A dare? You did this on a dare?”

A wry grin escaped. “Looks like it.”

“And the PT belts?” He arched a sardonic eyebrow at me.

My thumb grazed the Bateman tag at the back of my cover. “Social commentary on the new uniform policy.”

His lips twitched upward, but he stifled it before I could call it a grin. “On a dare. Right. And who helped you?”

There it was. My gaze didn’t leave his. My jaw clenched once. Twice. There was no way in hell I was ratting them out. Not going to fucking happen. But I couldn’t lie, either.

“I didn’t need any help.”

He laughed. “Son, there’s no way you did that alone. Name the others, and there’s a slight chance you’ll be able to stay in flight school.”

And for thirty silver coins… “I alone strapped the bear to the winch. I alone towed that thing exactly three miles.”

He smoothed his hands over the papers in my file. “And you alone lifted a fifteen-hundred-pound statue onto the lawn?”

Poker face. “I’m freakishly strong, sir.”

“Son, I admire your loyalty to the others, but you need to start naming names, or it’s going to get very bad, very quickly.”

“Mine is the only name I’ll be stating, and I have not spoken a single lie.” I didn’t. I hooked up the bear. I unhooked the bear. I drove the Defender. The others had nothing to do with those parts. My file slammed shut, smashing my dreams to smithereens.

“You have until end of duty day to change your mind.”

Four years of ROTC, a private pilot’s license, endless nights studying for the flight aptitude test, and I was about to get kicked out of flight school over a fucking polar bear. Sure, it had been stupid, but seriously. A statue?

The sun beat into my uniform as I sat outside HQ my last five minutes before reporting to Major Davidson. Fuck, I wanted those wings on my chest. I wanted to climb into an aircraft, y into battle, defend something larger than myself. Now I’d be packing my shit before the weekend.

For the first time in my life, I’d felt like I could do it— break away and make something of myself. As usual, I’d gone and fucked it all up. It was my specialty, after all.

Time was up. I savored the walk to his office, breathing in the scent of possibility for what I feared would be the last time. I knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

I hardened my resolve and opened the door. What the hell? The seats in the office were already occupied. Shit. No. “Walker? Masters?”

Josh made a face that was half smile, half grimace. “Did you really think we’d let you take the fall for this?”

“No chance. You’re not falling on the sword,” Masters added. His knuckles were white where he gripped his cover.

“How did you know?”

Major Davidson answered. “Your friends came forward about an hour ago.” He turned his back to us and stared out the window. “What am I going to do with you?”

We stayed silent while he deliberated. “You clearly disrespected and vandalized a cherished piece of Fort Rucker tradition, but you showed unwavering loyalty to fellow officers. On the other hand, they came forward of their own volition, showing remarkable integrity. What to do?”

A thousand smart-ass remarks raced through me, but I kept them all to myself. Now was definitely not the time to let my mouth loose.

His head cocked to the side. “You boys have any experience working with your hands?”

“Yes, sir. I grew up building boats,” Masters answered.

“Yes, sir,” Josh echoed.

“Yes, sir,” I added in. If you counted the hours I’d put into the Defender, taping my hockey stick, or assembling my dorm room Ikea furniture, then sure, I had experience.

“Perfect. You’ll be working off your insult.”