Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1)

“What’s so funny?” Calder came loping up from the opposite direction.

Crap. I quickly pocketed my phone. We’d been on different shifts most of the time since we returned from family camp, and I could fully admit that I’d been avoiding him as much as possible the rest of the time. I’d been dreading the big talk that we needed to have.

“Oh. Hey, man. Nothing much.” I smiled at him, but my face felt too stiff, like the air had dropped thirty degrees.

“I hear you’re getting out of here early today.” Calder raised an eyebrow, his intense scrutiny making me shuffle my feet.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“You can stop looking so cagey. I already heard from my mom that you and Arthur are going to that thing for Oliver’s kid this evening.”

Well, hell. I should have known that the gossip network would get back to Calder eventually. I rolled my shoulders, trying to avoid the guilty look he was accusing me of having but probably failing. “It’s Taylor’s birthday. He asked back at family camp if we’d attend. I said maybe, but my schedule worked out so that I can go. You coming?”

“Nah. I’ve got plans.” He waved his hand in a vague way before his eyes narrowed even farther. “And speaking of plans, exactly how long are you two going to carry on this charade? You got Steve all jealous, got a vacation you definitely needed out of the deal, but what’s keeping you guys from breaking up already?”

Time to pay the piper. Looked like we were having that big talk whether I wanted to or not. But I wasn’t going to lie nor was I going to dodge the question. “It’s not a charade.”

“Say what?” Calder tilted his head, mouth pursing like I’d given him a super-sour candy.

“I mean it was. But not now. I like him.”

“I knew it.” Calder pulled off his hat, slapped it against his thigh. “I had a feeling you were hooking up with him. You’ve avoided me for weeks, and you were a little too convincing at camp about being into him.”

“I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner.” I’d been too busy having fun with Arthur, heading into Seattle every chance I got, and living in a happy bubble where I didn’t have to royally piss off my best friend to spend time with my guy. I hadn’t wanted to deal with Calder’s hard stares and harder questions, and he was right to call me out on it.

Calder shook his head, expression nearly identical to my grandmother’s the few times I had gravely disappointed her. And like then, the disappointment was worse than anger ever could be. I’d take a punch over the heavy self-loathing bearing down on me.

“It’s not me you should apologize to,” he said at last, voice tight.

“No?”

“You’re both going to be sorry. You’re going to break each other’s damn heart.”

“We’re both adults. We know what we’re doing.” I hope. A group of young midshipmen headed toward the chow hall, and I stepped off the sidewalk to allow them to pass. Calder followed me onto the grass. His let-down expression made my voice even more defensive. “And what makes you so damn sure?”

“Arthur might be twenty-five, but he’s flighty as hell.” Calder made a dismissive gesture. Maybe it would have been better had he slugged me because then I could hit him right back for his attitude about Arthur. “And he doesn’t even have a real job. No way is he sticking around for you to play house with.”

“He has a real job.” By some miracle I managed to keep my tone even and my hands fisted at my sides. “He got a new contract last week. He’s really good at what he does.”

“He might be good at it, but talent isn’t the same thing as job security. I had to bail him out with bills a couple of times when he was in Boston. That’s probably a big part of why he agreed to the fake homecoming stunt.”

That stung. I’d been under the assumption that Arthur had agreed out of the goodness of his heart, not guilt and obligation to Calder. And if he had money worries, I wanted to hear about it from him, not Calder. However, I wasn’t going to let Calder undermine what we had built either.

“Maybe we were both in it for crappy reasons to start, but now I care about him.” More personnel exited the building, so I kept my voice to a low but firm whisper. “For real. And his financial security or lack thereof isn’t relevant to how I feel about him.”

“This is what I mean.” He huffed out a breath. “He might not intend to, but he’ll break your heart. I guarantee you that if he gets an offer for a contract that requires him to be in LA or Vancouver, he’ll take it.”