Authors: Mila Gray
offers to help, but I sit her on a stool in the middle of the
room and open the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of
champagne.
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‘What are we celebrating?’ she asks when I hand her a
glass.
‘Us,’ I say, clinking my glass of water with hers.
‘You aren’t having any?’ she asks.
‘I don’t drink,’ I say.
She nods thoughtfully and doesn’t ask anything fur-
ther. She knows the reason why, and I love it that she
doesn’t need to ask questions. She takes just a sip from
her own glass and then sets it down on the side.
I start prepping the salmon I’m cooking and check on
the vegetables that are roasting in the oven. My mind’s
struggling to remember the recipes, though, with Jessa
sitting there watching me.
‘Have you seen much of Riley?’ I ask, trying to distract
myself from the very graphic thoughts of what I plan to
do to her later.
‘No,’ she says, ‘not much. He’s pretty much living with
Jo. He comes back for dinner.’ She shrugs. ‘I think you see
more of him. How’s training going?’
‘Good,’ I say, thinking of the workouts I’ve been doing
all week, partly as a way to let off steam in the build-up
to tonight, and partly so I get to kick Riley’s ass in the
physical fitness test we have to take soon. ‘Test is in two
weeks. Same day as yours.’
‘What?’ Jessa asks.
‘Your driving test. I’ve booked you in.’
Jessa stares at me. ‘What? I’m not ready.’
‘Yeah, you are. And it was the only slot they had before
I leave.’ I shrug and turn back to the stove.
‘But . . . ’
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‘If you pass, you pass,’ I say over my shoulder. ‘If you
fail, you fail. No biggie. You can take it again.’
Jessa presses her lips together and I can see she’s trying
to think up excuses, but then she nods and says, ‘OK.’
I smile to myself as I start pan-frying the salmon. ‘You
know, Riley keeps asking about the girl I’m seeing.’
I hear Jessa slide off the stool. She sidles up behind me
and slips her arms around my waist. ‘He does, huh?’
‘That thing with Didi – taking her to prom – didn’t
help. He can’t believe I’m serious.’
‘What did you tell him?’ Jessa asks.
‘That it’s going great. That I’m digging this chick. That
she’s amazing.’
She laughs against my back.
‘He wants to meet you,’ I say.
Jessa releases me and leans up against the counter. ‘My
mom asked me the other day if there was anything I
wanted to tell her.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She said I was glowing and if she didn’t know better
she’d think I was in − ’ she stops abruptly, her cheeks
flushing − ‘um . . . a relationship.’
I turn my attention back to the pan, but my heart is
beating faster all of a sudden. ‘What did you tell her?’ I
ask.‘That I was just happy school was out.’
A weight settles on my shoulders, dampening the
happiness I’d been feeling. I set the fork down on the side
and turn to face her. ‘I want to tell everyone, Jessa. I’m
sick of this.’
She stares up at me with those big green eyes and rests
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her hand against my cheek. ‘Me too,’ she says softly. ‘But
we only have two weeks. I don’t want them ruined.’
I look at her long and hard for moment before turning
back to the food.
The table’s set with candles and flowers and my mom’s
best china. My dad gave me licence to use it. He knows
exactly what I have planned − I couldn’t exactly keep it a
secret. I think he contrived the excuse of going to my sis-
ter’s, because when he told me he was spending the night
there he winked at me and told me not to burn any pans
or get anyone pregnant while he was gone. He hasn’t
mentioned anything more about telling Riley, which is a
relief, though it nags at me. It’s why I brought it up with
Jessa. But if she doesn’t want to tell him, I can’t exactly
come out with it. It’s just hard sneaking around all the
time. I want to walk down the street with her, I want to be
able to take her out to dinner and go to the beach without
being paranoid someone’s going to see us.
‘That was so amazing. You could be a chef,’ Jessa says,
pushing away her finished plate and patting her stomach.
‘That was always my fallback,’ I say, clearing the plates
to make way for dessert.
‘Your what?’ she asks, getting up to help.
‘For when I get out the corps.’
‘To become a chef?’ she asks.
I set the plates down in the kitchen. ‘To open my own
restaurant, maybe just a small cafe to start with, some-
thing cool, great coffee, awesome vibes, great music.’
Jessa leans against the countertop. ‘I can picture it
now,’ she says grinning at me.
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I forget about the dessert. I can’t stop my eyes wander-
ing over her body, barely constrained by her dress, from
starting to imagine what it will be like to undress her
later, to finally get to make love to her. I take a step
towards her and pull her towards me, holding her hands.
Now’s the time to tell her.
‘Jessa,’ I say, stroking her hair behind her ear. ‘I think
this one will be my last tour. My four years are up after
this.’
Her smile fades. ‘You’re going to leave?’ she asks.
‘Well, they have you on non-active duty for four years
and they can call you back up at any time, but I’d be out,
yeah.’
‘Really?’ she asks, and I see the start of a smile pulling
at the edge of her mouth.
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘Why?’ she asks. ‘I thought you loved it.’
I shrug. ‘Things change. My dad’s not getting any
younger. I’ve got other dreams I want to pursue.’ I pause.
Does she realize she’s one of them? ‘I guess I got into
the marines because I was following my old man, and
because I wanted to be the best of the best, to know that I
could beat the best. And I’ve done that. I’ve served my
country, I’ve done my part. But some of the shit I’ve
seen . . . I’m tired of it. I want to start a new chapter. I
want to try staying in one place as well as one piece, and
being master of my own destiny. I guess I’m just done
with following orders and I want something new.’
‘Kit?’ she interrupts.
‘Yeah?’ I ask, realizing I haven’t drawn breath.
Jessa stares up at me solemnly. ‘Take me to bed.’
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Jessa
Kit stares at me for half a second processing what I’ve
said, then without a word he takes my hand and leads me
out the kitchen and up the stairs. My legs start shaking,
half with nerves and half in anticipation of what’s to
come. I can’t believe he’s going to quit. For me. No, not
just for me, I remind myself, but I know I’m part of the
reason why, and the knowledge makes me light-headed
and light-blooded too. Is that even a thing? It feels like it
should be. My blood feels as if it’s infused with light
particles.
A life. We could actually have a life together. A normal
life. Seeing each other every day, dating like a normal
couple, maybe not even in secrecy, because I feel with Kit
beside me every day I would be brave enough to face
anything, even my father’s wrath.
At the door to his room, Kit pauses and turns to me.
‘Close your eyes,’ he says.
I look at him suspiciously. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’ve got a surprise to show you.’
‘I’ve seen it already.’ I smirk.
‘Not that. Man, you’re filthy,’ he laughs, covering
my eyes with his hand. I hear him open the door and
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then he ushers me inside his room. Finally he moves his
hand.
‘Oh my God,’ I say, staring at the brand new double
bed that’s replaced his old single one. ‘You bought a
double bed?’ I spin to face him.
‘Yeah,’ Kit answers with a smug grin. ‘A single bed
wouldn’t be big enough for all I have planned for you.’
I walk towards it. He didn’t just buy a double bed − it
would seem he also bought a thousand pillows and a
feather comforter.
‘New sheets and everything. One hundred percent
Egyptian cotton. That’s supposed to be the best,’ he says
proudly. ‘I even redecorated.’
I tear my eyes off the bed and stare around the room in
amazement. He’s not lying. He’s painted the entire room
a beautiful warm shade of white, removed the shelf with
all the trophies and replaced it with a bookshelf, and
exchanged the dresser with an antique chest of drawers.
A vase filled with wild flowers sits on the top. Candles
litter the bedside table. Tears spring to my eyes and I
know it would be pathetic and girly of me to cry over this
but I think it might just be the most romantic gesture any-
one has ever made in the history of romantic gestures.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I stammer as Kit continues
to grin at me. Then I realize something. ‘What did your
father think?’ I ask.
‘He’s cool with it. I explained everything.’
‘Everything?’ I ask in alarm.
‘No, I don’t mean about tonight.’ He takes a step
towards me. ‘I told him I wanted this to be your room
too. When I’m away. I want you to feel like you have
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somewhere to come to. I want to be able to picture you
here, in my room. When I’m pulling an all-night shift I
want to be able to imagine you naked in my bed back
home, waiting for me.’
My mouth drops open. ‘And he’s cool with that?’ I ask.
‘Oh yeah,’ says Kit, still grinning so wide I can see his
dimple. ‘I didn’t tell him about the naked part, though.’
I poke him in the ribs.
‘He even wanted me to give you this.’ He rummages in
his pocket and pulls something out.
‘What is it?’ I ask, seeing full well that it’s a keyring
with two keys on it.
‘A key,’ he says.
‘To your house?’ I ask, staring at him in amazement.
‘Yeah. I want you to be able to come and go as you
please. And so does my dad.’ He takes my hands in his,
pressing the keys into my palm. ‘So if things ever get out
of hand at home or you need to just escape, you can come
here.’
I’m trying really hard not to cry. I swallow the lump
that’s wedged in my throat. ‘What’s this other key for?’ I
ask in a hoarse voice.
‘That’s for my truck.’
I look at him in disbelief. ‘Your truck?’
‘Yeah, I put you on the insurance. And I also installed
air con, seeing how you don’t like your hair getting all
mussed up when the windows are down.’
I stare at him, speechless. I have no idea what to say.
Finally I just reach up on tiptoe and kiss him. ‘I don’t
know what I did to deserve you,’ I whisper.
Kit pulls away so he can see my face. ‘I know it’s not
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what you signed up for. Dating a marine. Not seeing me
for twelve months.’
I kiss him to shut him up.
‘So you like it?’ he asks, gesturing around at the room.
‘I love it,’ I say.
Kit steps forward and takes my face in his hands. ‘I
love you,’ he says.
My heart, which is already beating like crazy, bursts in
my chest like a rocket. I don’t get to answer him before he
kisses me, tipping my chin up with his hand.
I melt into him, instantly undone, and loop my arms
around his neck. When he picks me up and lays me down
on the bed, I’m aware of nothing except for the cool soft-
ness of the sheets against my back, the warm solid feel of
Kit pressing me down into the mattress, and the electric
caress of his hands against my body. God, I’m so ready
for this, for him.
It becomes a struggle for air, for touch, for closeness.
An urgency takes hold of us as we tear at each other’s
clothes. I rip off Kit’s T-shirt, desperate to feel his skin
against mine, and he tugs me to my knees and pulls my
sundress off over my head in one swift move. I’m not
wearing a bra and he lets out a groan and pulls me
towards him, his hand in the small of my back, his other
hand cupping my breast. His lips find my nipple and
suck, making me cry out and grip his shoulders.
We tumble back onto the bed and I scrabble to undo his
belt. He kicks off his jeans and underwear before easing
mine off. I look up at him, breathing hard as he stands
at the end of the bed looking down on me. I’m already
ready and I reach for him, but Kit gives me a sly smile
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