Burn Zone (Hotshots 1)
“Okay. Guess I’ll see you when you cool down.” Sorry must not have been part of Linc’s vocabulary because he continued to regard Jacob warily, like he was angry for no good reason, and that just made Jacob that much more upset, back muscles tensing and head pounding.
“Yeah. You will.” With that, he strode away to his own truck before he could say something he’d truly regret. He wasn’t giving up on Linc, wasn’t giving up on them, but it wouldn’t kill Linc to fight back, to fight for them. And to maybe see Jacob as anything other than Wyatt Hartman’s annoying little brother and a fucking obligation. Damn it all. Jacob might as well wish to lasso the moon than to think he could change Linc.
Chapter Seventeen
Linc wasn’t going to stop caring about Jacob. He couldn’t. And caring about Jacob meant caring about the promises he’d made others. Simple as that. And yet, as Linc passed a long, sleepless, Jacob-less night, his principles were miserable bedfellows. One couldn’t exactly snuggle a moral certainty that keeping Jacob safe was more important than making Jacob happy. But damn if Linc didn’t wish he could have both. Both Jacob safe and Jacob right here, next to him, smiling the way he always did when sleepy and satisfied.
And Jacob had said it was only for tonight, not a permanent thing, but it sure felt permanent when Jacob still hadn’t answered a text Linc had sent hours ago.
You okay? You get some food? And don’t forget to hydrate after that long pack-out.
Not apologizing. Linc couldn’t do that, not when he wasn’t sorry about wanting to keep Jacob safe at all costs. But he’d tried to extend a hand anyway. Fucking lot of good it did. Ignoring their mats, the dogs were both occupying Jacob’s half of the bed, and he didn’t have the heart to kick them out. And how the hell had he gone from never going to touch Jacob to him having a side of the bed?
Right when he was about to give up pretending he might sleep and go hammer out some exercises, his phone buzzed.
I ate. Soup from a can. You can lecture me about it later. And yeah, tanked up on the fluids.
Linc seized the opening like a kid trying to catch butterflies, dashing off a fast and probably pointless reply, but he couldn’t not send anything.
Good. Maybe if we don’t have a callout tomorrow, I can make you that chicken you liked last time?
The wait for a return message felt like decades, but was actually gratifyingly quick. The one with rosemary?
Smiling for the first time in hours, Linc typed faster. That one. Got some potatoes to use up too.
Guess we can’t have them go to waste. Jacob’s reply buzzed a few moments later, not exactly enthusiastic but as close to a yes as Linc was likely to get.
Nope. Dogs will be happy to see you. His chest hummed, an almost electric sensation, a giddiness at knowing he hadn’t fucked things up with Jacob beyond repair. Even if the sane thing would be to let it end here, he simply wasn’t ready.
Just the dogs? Jacob added a head-scratching emoji. And Linc almost had to literally scratch his, trying to figure out how to answer. He didn’t want to be desperate or needy, but damn, he did miss Jacob, and couldn’t lie.
Not just the dogs.
Jacob sent him another emoji in response, this one sleeping. Just checking. Get some sleep.
And finally feeling settled for the first time all damn day, Linc was able to follow orders, falling asleep to thoughts of cooking for Jacob sometime soon, making things right the best he could. But the next day, on the drive to the air base, the doubts returned. Were they back to normal? Was Jacob still pissed? How the hell was he supposed to both keep Jacob safe and give him the respect he demanded?
Still deep in thought, he almost bumped into Garrick on the way into the headquarters building.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. The rook still pissed?”
“Not sure.” Linc had to work hard to keep the defensiveness from his voice. And no way was he sharing the late-night text exchange as proof of Jacob’s mood.
“Well, he’ll just have to get used to us caring.” Garrick clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” Linc said, but his mouth twisted. He wasn’t sure which way to feel about being lumped in with Garrick. Because he did care, too damn much, but it sure wasn’t the same as whatever casual meaning Garrick was giving the word. Garrick cared about everything—his elderly neighbor, the people they worked with, his friends—but nothing terribly deeply. Nothing in common with this soul-deep ache Linc got at the mere mention of Jacob’s name.
“Speaking of rookies...” Garrick steered Linc into an empty hallway that led to the offices. They were both a few minutes early for the morning meeting. “Have you heard the latest? Apparently, it’s a-okay to hook up with crew members now.”