Page 2 of Love at First Rep

“Cole, do you carry those around with you?” Tobias asked begrudgingly.

Cole’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, what an incredible idea. I should always have one on hand. But no, I caught the video highlight and brought it with me to celebrate. I do have a mini stockpile at home for last-minute celebrations. I’m also still workshopping your couple name because Moysend sounds like ‘moistened,’ and nobody wants that. Chabias? Tobase? Nothing is working.”

Tobias shook his head and threw his arm around his new boyfriend, Chase.

“Now everyone is aware of our new relationship status,” Tobias said, “your warmup for this morning is to clean up the confetti. I’ll put your workout on the screen.”

“Counteroffer,” Riley, one of Garrett’s other workout buddies, said. “We get rid of the confetti and head to Cherry Meadow Diner for celebratory breakfast. I think we all deserve a rest day, huh, guys?”

Everybody exchanged glances while Tobias and Chase had some kind of wordless conversation he’d seen couples do.

“Breakfast it is. Clean this up and then get the hell out of my gym,” Tobias said, but with less heat than his voice usually carried. Chase had dramatically lessened Tobias’ grumpiness, although Garrett was sure it was mostly social anxiety rather than actual irritability. Garrett was a bit disappointed he wouldn’t get a workout in that morning, but he could make up for it with a run later. It may have been a chilly day in March, but at least the sky was clear and he wouldn’t have to worry about rain or snow.

After everyone helped remove the hundreds of bright scraps littered all around them, they made their way out of the gym. Garrett tossed out goodbyes to everyone he’d soon see at the diner as he walked to his car, his beanie back on his head, when he spotted a purple thread tied around his car’s door handle.

“Goddamn it, Rafe, can’t you just leave me alone?” he said as he untied the thread and shoved it deep in his pocket. He must have been some kind of masochist for saving it, but he couldn’t help it. By the time he untied it and got into his car, almost everyone else had left for the diner. He started the car and threw it in reverse with a grunt of frustration while using the rearview camera on his dashboard to back out of his space. Putting the car in drive, he accelerated, hoping a waffle at the diner would raise his spirits, but he wasn’t done cursing off his old friend. “Don’t you have other people to haunt by now?”

“Where would be the fun in that?” a voice said.

Garrett’s eyes darted to his rearview mirror to see Rafe Hernandez looking particularly unghost-like in his backseat.

2

About twenty years ago…

“DO YOU HAVE ANY Warheads left?” Rafe asked from his cot, craving something sweet and sour.

Garrett sat on his own cot, his back against the wall and his fingers drumming against his leg as he worked on a puzzle book. He lifted his head at Rafe’s question and leaned over to dig through his bag on the floor to pull out a small bag of the candies they enjoyed so much. Garrett tossed him the whole pack, but Rafe wasn’t greedy. He took one and tossed the rest back into Garrett’s open duffel on the ground.

“Sweet, thanks,” he said as he unwrapped the black cherry candy, tossing it in his mouth and puckering his lips as the sourness attacked his tongue.

Garrett smiled at his antics, the sight sending a burst of warmth to Rafe’s gut. Rafe’s older brother, Miguel, got a kick out of sending him care packages including the sour sweets, declaring they were the best candy to take to war. Miguel thought he was a riot. He was not, but Rafe and Garrett still enjoyed the treats.

Rafe watched Garrett as he returned his focus to the puzzle book. After another minute, Garrett chuckled aloud.

“This one came out great, ya gotta hear it,” he said as he spun on his cot, his long legs now planted on the ground. He stuck his pencil behind his ear and his feathery blond hair fell over his forehead as he read the newly completed Mad Libs story from his puzzle book.

They always took turns playing, trying to create the most ridiculous stories possible.

It was one of the few things that kept them from losing their minds in the boredom between action.

Rafe cracked up from Garrett’s story, but his laugh was cut off by a loud voice on the other side of the room.

“Hernandez,” his staff sergeant barked from the doorway. “Come with me.”

He walked away before Rafe even had the chance to stand at attention.

On his way out the door, he shared a look with Garrett, who gave him a supportive smile.

“Go get ’em,” Garrett said, instantly calming Rafe’s nerves. He could get through anything with Garrett at his side.

Rafe left the bunk room, heading in the direction Lieutenant Malcolm did. The gruff man stood at the end of a long hallway outside an open door, and Rafe walked confidently to whatever awaited him inside.

What he did not expect was to see Lieutenant Commander Ridgewood sitting at the desk. As Lieutenant Malcolm left, closing the door behind him, Rafe noticed a man in a suit sitting in the corner. The unknown man didn’t say a word the entire time, so Rafe focused on his Lieutenant Commander.

Rafe sat and listened as Ridgewood listed off some of his skills and accomplishments since joining the Navy and becoming a SEAL. He laid out the details of a mission that his team would take part in later that night, nearly choking on his tongue when he told him it was a mission he wouldn’t return from. A mission he couldn’t tell a single soul about. A mission in which he would be presumed dead and his life as he knew it would change forever.

A mission where Garrett couldn’t come with him.