On the Roof

Keegan

I should probably tell him to stay put. I didn't ask him to climb the stupid tree. But what harm can it do if he comes up? And what if he fell trying to get down?

"Of course you can come up," I say, giving him a smile and feeling my heart rate speed up. "I don't own this roof."

He laughs at that, then starts crawling toward me, the guitar hanging off his chest.

When he gets close enough, I nervously grab one of his arms to help him, breathing a sigh of relief when he settles down next to me. I swear my fingertips burn just from touching him.

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

Blue shoots a teasing grin at me, and it feels like I'm drowning in his eyes.

"Nah, roomie" he murmurs, flicking a leaf off my shoulder and letting his fingers linger a tad longer than necessary, "I wouldn't let that happen. Besides, I've done it before. I didn't need your help."

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

Then I start wondering who he has climbed up to this room to see before he did it to see me. Just stop it, you idiot.

We're quiet for a few minutes, listening to the night sounds.

The wind has picked up, and the flowery curtains on my window whip in and out of the open window. I break the silence with a question 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 Blue. He presses his lips together and looks away, and his silence feels like a rebuke.

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

"Honorably discharged," he says, his voice somber as he stares into the darkened tree. "I was honorably discharged from the Army a few years ago."

He turns back to me and clears his throat before adding, "After...an injury." He's obviously struggling to continue.

"You saw the scars," he finally adds, his voice choked. "It happened in Afghanistan."

"I'm so sorry, Blue." I take a deep breath, feeling bad for bringing up something so obviously painful.

He'd already told me he didn't want to talk about it. But still I'd pressed him. Because I want to know.

"Don't be sorry," he says. "It's a normal question to ask. Anybody who sees my back wants to know what happened. I should be used to it. I am used to it. But I still..." He doesn't finish the sentence.

I watch the muscle in his jaw tense, unsure what to say next.

Blue shifts slightly, and I realize after a second my eyes have drifted down to his muscular thighs. Good grief, Keegan.

"Ikana is the only place I wanted to come," Blue says, thankfully not seeming to notice my blatant lechery. "Because of Bryson."

"I really know nothing about Frasier Bryson," I admit, dragging my eyes away from his legs.

"You're not the only one," Blue sighs. "I just don't get why he's not a household name."

I decide to ease the tension by teasing him a little.

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

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

We sit in silence for a few minutes after that. The nearby argument from the neighbors has gotten louder.

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

I have nothing to say to that, so I just sit and watch the emotions crossing his gorgeous face.

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

His face has softened, and for a second, he looks like a hopeful little kid.

Something inside me does a little flip.

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

"I would like to hear that story, Blue." I barely manage to speak above a whisper. "I really would."

And I mean it.