Undeclared(83)
I slid down her body, running my mouth over her soft, rounded belly and lower still until I rested between her lush thighs. “I promise you won’t even notice the time passing.” Then I was too busy doing other things with my tongue and mouth to say another word.
Grace voiced no complaints. I knew that this was just a temporary fix, but it was all I could offer.
Leaving Grace sated and sweaty in bed, I padded to the kitchen to rummage around for something to eat. Grace’s apartment was the antithesis of our house. It was quiet and clean. At my house, the television was always on and there were always random people moving in and out to drink, play cards, or just hang out. Grace’s place was a sanctuary. I wanted to provide this kind of atmosphere for Grace and me; a place like this that could be a haven for both of us. I’d do anything to make that happen.
Chapter Sixteen
Grace
The next day, I felt wrung out, like day-old bread. All the soothing concern that Noah had lavished on me seemed to have dissipated with the rising sun. He didn’t want me to be alone that day and insisted that I go with him while he trained. I packed my books into my messenger bag and left the camera backpack lying in the corner. I wasn’t sure if I would ever feel the confidence to wield it again.
“Do you miss the Marines?” I asked, fiddling with the radio. I wondered if I would miss my camera. Sometimes I would forget I was even carrying it, since it was such a natural extension of my body. This morning when I picked up the camera bag, it felt like it weighed as much as a cement block and I could barely drag it into the closet. My portfolio was lying on the desk, and sitting on top was a mint tin emblazoned with the tilt shift photograph I had taken of the Alpha Phis. Lana must have left it for me last night. I assumed it was one of the many rush-related paraphernalia they had produced. Maybe it wasn’t true art, but I couldn’t deny a surge of pride when I looked at the tin with my photo printed on the lid.
“Sometimes, but not today,” he said, interrupting my reverie.
“Why not today?”
“Today is Field day. If I were still in the Marines, I would be cleaning today. Shining my shoes, cleaning the barracks. Everything.”
“But if today weren’t Field day?”
“It’s nice not to have every aspect of your life under someone else’s control. I don’t miss walking in the desert and disrobing in order to take a—well, you know. I don’t miss getting shot at. But I miss my brothers. I think that’s why Bo and I enjoy living with all the guys. There’s a sense of community there that we had in the Marines. Plus, you know, you were paid to shoot stuff up. It’s unreal in some ways. But every day was like a challenge, a competition between yourself and the elements or the insurgents.”
The Spartan gym looked like its name. There were mirrors along one wall, but there were no machines like you would see at a health club. Bags hung from the ceiling, old huge tires were stacked in one corner, and long ropes coiled on the floor. Racks of free weights lined the wall opposite of the mirrors. The place smelled of sour sweat.
Noah led me through the front room where everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and stare at us. In the back was a larger room that resembled the warehouse where Noah had fought for his ten thousand dollars. Except this room had large fluorescent lights that hung down over a raised boxing platform. To one side sat a long bench like you’d see in a schoolyard. Noah led me over to it and gave me a hard, long kiss that left me blushing from the tips of my ears to the soles of my feet.
“Be right back,” he said.
When he returned, he and Bo were dressed only in loose shorts. They climbed into the ring and a couple of other guys came to help them suit up with protective gear, red on Noah and blue on Bo. They looked a little like the kid’s game of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. My trigger finger twitched involuntarily. If I stood up on the rafters and looked down, the bright colors contrasting against the dull gray walls would’ve made an amazing photograph. Dr. Rossum’s jeers about my trick photography killed the thought off quickly. I shook my head to rid myself of his taunts. I didn’t want to dwell on it. I resolved to just live in the moment.
A crowd of thickly muscled men filtered in from the front room and soon it seemed like everyone was standing or sitting around the platform.
This was different from the warehouse fight. Bo and Noah circled each other, their arms outstretched as if measuring the distance between them. When one moved in, the other feinted. They danced like that for a minute before Bo sprang toward Noah with a punch across the jaw. Noah’s head snapped back, but he responded with a quick kick to the side that pushed Bo away.