Despite It All by Reese Knightley
Greene
Forest was lying, but he had bigger problems.
Fascinated, he watched Forest’s tongue clean his fingers and then swipe out and lick at his lips, leaving them shiny. Fuck yeah, he had a big problem, he thought as he adjusted himself.
He’d never seen someone eat their food with that much enjoyment. Or maybe he just hadn’t cared to watch people like he did Forest. There was something completely captivating about the way Forest ate, talked, and waved his hands at the same time.
A slight tremor worked its way through Forest’s left hand, but it didn’t slow the man down nor the speed with which he ate.
He smiled when another taco disappeared.
“What?” Long lashes swept up, revealing those ocean blue eyes.
“Do you always eat that fast?”
“I do,” Forest said around another bite of food. “And if you don’t eat yours by the time I’m finished, I’ll eat yours too.”
“Oh, hell no.” A chuckle worked its way up and out before he knew it. He curved an arm protectively around his hot, spicy food, reminding him that he was fucking starving.
“Never threaten a man’s food.” He took a big showy bite of his burrito. It was damned good.
Forest laughed and wiped his fingers on the paper towel and then scooped up fallen cheese and tomatoes. The man’s long sleeve inched up and he got his first glance of the sturdy brace on his left wrist.
“This is good, we should do some ice cream for dessert,” Forest said.
“Where will you fit it?” He smiled at Forest.
“I’m a bottomless pit.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Forest grinned, finished the last bite of his food, then leaned back in his chair, adjusting his shirt sleeve. The move was done unconsciously as if he’d forgotten to hide it like he normally did.
It was almost nice to see Forest relaxing for a moment, to put aside the pressure of his friend’s disappearance and his undercover work. The man was an FBI agent, a supervisor, but he’d noticed the tenuous hold Forest kept on his control, and that was shaky at best.
He’d seen it when the man didn’t think he was looking. The nervous way he drove them to the safe house, glancing in the rearview mirror. Slowing down when a car passed them. He’d noticed it in the way Forest rubbed at the fingers in his left hand and unconsciously wrapped an arm against his stomach.
A stomach that according to Liam held scars. He could have told Forest that control wouldn’t come easy after something like that. The guy was going through some PTSD in his opinion. Oh, Forest did pretty damn well at hiding it, but he knew the signs, he’d lived it. The cold sweats, lost time, and shattered dreams.
He picked up his second burrito and forced himself to take a bite.
Fuck, he needed a drink.
That was the second time in a matter of days he’d thought of taking that drink to find peace. But peace wasn’t waiting for him at the end of a bottle. There was only the devil in liquid form and he’d already spiraled down into that pit of hell several times over the past year or so, belligerent, he’d used his fists, beating anyone who got in his way when he slipped up.
He’d come out the other side by sheer chance and will.
Until Liam reached into the pit of one spiral and snatched him away from the jaws of hell.
“Open the fucking door, Greene.”
With a loud crack, he yanked open the door. He didn’t give a fuck that he was standing in a stained shirt and boxers. He sucked in a lungful of smoke and glared through blurry eyes at the soldiers on his fucking porch.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Don’t speak to the colonel like that!” One of the soldiers stepped forward as if ready to knock him on his ass. And he would have welcomed the pain.
Liam slapped a file into the guy’s chest and stalked forward, shoving him out of the way hard. Fucking Liam, pushing his way inside the house without an invite.
“Is that legal?” another guy whispered, peering into the house.
No, it wasn’t fucking legal! He stalked over to a table full of bottles and smokes.
“Get cleaned up,” Liam snapped at him.
“Fuck you!” he growled, stamping out his cigarette in a saucer before he snagged up a half empty bottle of whiskey. The liquid sloshed around in the bottle.
Liam advanced on him, yanked the bottle from his grip, and slammed it down on the table.
He swung on Liam, but the guy got one over on him. Drunk off his ass, he ended up being yanked down the hallway. It was no small feat with his size, but Liam was one tough son of a bitch. The wall cracked loudly beneath his weight when Liam forced him toward the bathroom.
With his ass on the floor, he heard the water in the shower start running and then Liam was there, lifting him up.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” he rasped, choking, gagging, the room blurred, huge gasps coming from his throat echoing in the small room.
“Hush,” Liam ordered.
“I mean it, Liam.”
“Be quiet.” Liam’s voice had softened.
Harsh sobs yanked from his depths while Liam held him tightly.
The crinkle of Taco Bell paper drew him back to the patio and he avoided Forest’s gaze.
He’d be thankful for the rest of his life to Liam. With the colonel’s help, he’d clawed up and out of that alcohol induced fog. He respected the hell out of that man.
He’d slipped a few times since, gained traction, only to slip again. As a natural born fuck up, imperfection was in his nature.
He finished his second burrito and started on the tacos and he wondered what Forest would think of him if he confessed to being a drunk. The picture was crystal clear. Forest would shut him down and shut him out fucking quick. As he should.
He wasn’t sticking around that long to find out what Forest would think of him, so it wouldn’t matter if he found out after he was gone.
It was better that way. Forest had his whole life ahead of him while he was a washed-up soldier. Even though he was working his way out of a downward spiral, it didn’t matter as far as Forest was concerned.
“Have you decided?”
“What?” Startled out of his funk, he glanced up to find Forest holding out his phone.
“What kind of ice cream sundae do you want?”
“I don’t want-” he began, but the hurt that flashed through Forest’s eyes stopped him cold. “On second thought, get me a triple scoop sundae, one scoop of cherry, one praline, and one chocolate chip, with double hot fudge and whipped cream. Oh, and put on some of those little sprinkles and nuts on top.”
Forest’s eyes went bigger the longer his order went on.
He laughed. He hardly laughed at anything, but if his teasing could keep Forest from slipping back into sorrow, then he’d do it for the time they had left together. He pushed his plate away, rubbing at his chest. Forest created a lighter feeling in his chest. So light that laughter just welled up and out. He’d never met someone like that before.
Dessert came much more quickly than dinner, and within ten minutes, he was looking at the massive sundae and wondering where the hell he was going to put it.
“Just think of it as a smoke.”
“What?”
“You can always fit in a cigarette, right?”
“Well yeah, but that doesn’t fill me up.” Crap, now he wanted a smoke.
“Yes it does. It affects your blood flow.”
“But not my stomach.”
“Just think of ice cream as food for your soul.”
Dimples popped and he shifted in his seat. Food for his fucking soul? Maybe he did have a soul somewhere deep down inside. Forest sure was looking at him like he meant something, but he didn’t know the truth.
“This is really good,” Forest said around a bite of ice cream.
He scooped up a bite and holy fuck, the combination of hot fudge and cold ice cream tasted fantastic. “Damn, I haven’t had something this sweet in a long time.”
“Yes you have.”
“When?”
“M&Ms at the poker game,” came the cheeky reply.
“Yeah, but that wasn’t this good.”
“Damn right.”
He smiled and waved his small, pink plastic spoon at Forest.
“List five things about your life.”
Spoon poised, mouth open, Forest gazed at him with wide eyes. The ice cream disappeared into his mouth.
“I joined the Army, joined the FBI, was hit by a drunk driver, my best friend was killed, and I’m back for a one-time job.” Forest popped off the list. “What about you?” Forest asked before he could respond.
“I joined the Army, lost some friends, smoke too often, curse too much, and people think I’m bossy.”
Forest grinned at him and shook his head. “That last one doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“You are bossy.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” He smiled.