Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(27)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

I hovered outside of his door, pressing my ear against the cool steel door, listening for the telltale noises of sex. All I heard was him talking. Something about watching “Golden Boy.” No one responded, so I could only assume that he was on the phone. That was a good sign.

I swiped my hands over my thighs. Taking a deep breath, I raised my trembling fist and knocked. His voice paused, and then I heard footsteps approach. He opened the door, and my breath whooshed out of my lungs. He didn’t have a shirt on, like usual, but instead of his normal shorts, he wore a pair of camouflage pants. His dog tags, which I’d never seen him wear, hung off his neck, and his hair was shorter on the sides than it had been the last time I’d seen him. A little shorter on the top, too, but there were still some curls.

He looked like a Marine. The type of Marine that went to war. The thought chilled my blood. War had always seemed so far removed from my own life that I never really thought about it besides the occasional story I saw on TV. I’d never known a soldier or a Marine or anyone who would be in harm’s way to keep me safe.

Not until Finn.

“Of course, sir.” He clenched his phone tighter and held a finger in front of his mouth in an obvious attempt at keeping me quiet. Was he on the phone with his superior? “Yes, sir.” A pause. “I will update you on that status when I return from duty.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, biting my lower lip. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Or heard from you. Are you…is something wrong?”

…and now I sounded like a desperate girlfriend seeking attention.

“I’ve been busy.” He gestured down his body. “Getting ready.”

I nodded. “You look ready to go to war.”

“Not quite.” He raised a brow at me. “I’m missing a few key components. Namely, a weapon.”

“Well, duh.” I flicked a glance over him again, my legs going all weak. He was always hot, but wearing his uniform, he was catastrophic to my health. “Why are you wearing that? And why did you cut your hair?”

“Because I had to for drill.” He tugged on his dog tags. He still hadn’t moved out of the opening of the door or invited me in. In fact, he hadn’t even smiled or looked happy to see me. “Are we doing surprise visits now? I hadn’t realized we were there yet.”

I stepped back and glanced over my shoulder. A couple came up the walkway, a young child at their side. They were talking about not having enough money for food again. I made a mental note to drop off a gift card to a local grocery store at their door. “What’s drill?’”

“It’s something I have to do the first weekend of every month,” he said, his jaw tight.

“O-Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Are you leaving now?”

He hesitated. “No, I have to report to duty first thing in the morning. Why?”

“So, I guess we’re not surfing tomorrow, huh?”

“No, we’re not.”

I shifted on my feet, not sure what to say next. He was acting cold and uncaring, and I didn’t know how to talk to a Finn who acted this way. I’d obviously made a mistake coming here. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

“No, I wasn’t.” He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. “I didn’t realize I had to.”

I crossed my arms. “Well, I’m new to this whole ‘friend’ thing, but it’s kind of common courtesy to let someone know when normal routines will be broken, right?”

I forced a laugh, but it hurt to know he hadn’t even been planning on letting me know our usual plans were off. Then again, hadn’t I done exactly the same thing to him? Yeah. I had. Just last week. Well, crap. I’d been a horrible friend and hadn’t even known it.

“Yeah.” He cocked a brow, his thoughts clearly along the same lines as mine. I could see it in his eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” I played with the hem of my shirt. “I’m not the best at this stuff. I didn’t realize…”

He studied his nails. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

“For not hanging out last Saturday after surfing. You’re obviously mad, and it wasn’t right for me to not let you know about it.”

“Nope.” He looked up at me with something that could only be described as disinterest. “I’m not mad about that. I got over it quickly enough.”

I curled my hands into fists. My nails dug into my skin from the force I used, but I didn’t even care. “Then what are you mad at?”

“Why do you think I’m mad at all?”

“For one?” I craned my neck to look past him. “You haven’t invited me in. Do you already have company?”

“Nope.”

“If you’re not mad, then why aren’t you—?”

“The better question is,” he crossed his ankles and checked the time, “why are you here unannounced at nine o’clock on a Friday night?”

“I…I wanted to see you.”

“Why?” he bit off, as if he couldn’t spare more than a single word on me.

“You know what? Never mind.” I brushed past him, muttering, “Good luck this weekend.”

“Thanks, Ginger,” he said, his voice taunting me. “Don’t get lost in the ocean without me. I won’t be there to save your pretty little ass.”

I froze mid-step, my whole body trembling with frustration and anger and hurt. “You know what?” I turned on him, swinging my fist toward his hard, bare bicep. “Fuck you!”

He easily caught my wrist, preventing the blow. His jaw ticked, and his eyes spit fire at me. “What’s the matter? Do you not like being blown off? Well, neither do I.”

“I knew it. I knew you were mad at me.” I tried to yank free, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “Let go of me.”

“Or what?” he asked, clearly daring me to do my worst. “What could a little brat like you possibly do to me that would make me let go?”

I knew one thing he didn’t want from me. One thing sure to make him release me. I grabbed his dog tags and yanked hard, bringing him down to my level. He didn’t even fight me, probably because he’d been expecting me to hit him or shove him or something else painful. Instead, I melded my mouth to his, kissing him with everything I had.