Romantically Entangled

Chapter 7

Nicki

I should probably tell her to stay put. I didn't ask her to climb the stupid tree.

But what harm can it do if she comes up? And what if she fell out of the tree trying to get down?

"Of course, you can come up," I respond. "I don't own this roof."

She laughs at that, then starts crawling toward me, the guitar hanging off her chest.

When she gets close enough, I nervously grab one of her arms to help her, breathing a sigh of relief when she settles down next to me.

I swear my fingertips burn just from touching her.

"We could both have plunged off here, you know," I quip, needing to be a little contrary to counter my gushy feeling. "Maybe use the door next time. It'd be a lot easier on my nerves."

Bey grins. "Nah. I wouldn't let that happen, roomie."

She flicks a leaf off her shoulder. "Besides, I've done it before. I didn't really need your help."

I shake my head, not sure if I'm impressed or alarmed by her bravado.

We're quiet for a few minutes, listening to the night sounds. The wind has picked up, and the flimsy curtains on my window whip around.

I finally break the silence with one of the questions I've been wanting to ask.

"So, how'd you end up here at Ikana? I mean, you were in the military, right? But you're not, anymore?"

My change of topic seems to startle her. She looks away, and her silence feels like a rebuke.

I'm about to apologize and change the subject when she starts talking.

"Honorably discharged." She is staring hard into the darkened tree; her voice is somber.

"I was honorably discharged from the Army a few years ago," she goes on, "after...an injury."

She seems to be struggling to continue. "You saw the scars," she finally adds, her voice choked. "It happened in Afghanistan."

I take a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Bey."

I feel bad for bringing it up. It's obviously painful. But I'd still like to know what exactly happened.

Bey shakes her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's a normal question to ask. Anybody who sees my back usually asks about it. I should be used to it. I am used to it. But, like I said, I really don't like to talk about it."

I nod, staring into her face, watching the muscle in her jaw working.

I'm not sure what to say next.

Bey shifts slightly, and I realize after a second that I've been gazing at her muscular thighs.

Good grief, Nicki.

"Yeah, so, Ikana is the only place I wanted to come," Bey goes on, smoothly changing the subject. "Because of Bryson, obviously."

I've managed to drag my eyes away from her legs.

"I really don't know anything about Frasier Bryson," I admit with a smile.

Bey lets out a disbelieving chuckle.

"I just don't get it," she responds, looking genuinely sorrowful. "I just don't get why he's not a household name."

I decide to have a little fun with her.

"Well, my dad might have mentioned that name when I was growing up," I grin, lifting one shoulder in a teasing semi-shrug. "I mean, unlike me, he's into really old music."

Bey doesn't seem to pick up on my playful tone. "I just don't get it," she repeats, strumming the guitar strings again.

We sit in silence for a few minutes after that.

The nearby argument from the neighbors has gotten louder. I wonder how loud and rowdy this neighborhood gets.

"I wanted to get here before Bryson retired," Bey explains as if I've asked a question. "Or died. He's an old man now."

Nothing comes into my head to say so I just sit there, running my eyes over her beautiful face.

"I had to finagle an audition in front of him because I missed the deadline to apply," Bey goes on. "Turns out he has a soft spot for soldiers. It was awesome."

Her face has softened; for a second, she looks like a hopeful little kid.

Something inside me does a little flip.

"I'll have to tell you the whole story sometime," she adds. "If you want to hear it, of course."

"I would like to hear that story, Bey," I say.

And I mean it.

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