"Absolutely Not."

Chapter 30: Sticky Note

Waking up alone was not an alien affair, but waking up alone in a bed that was not my own definitely was. It certainly smelled familiarly of tea leaves and tobacco, and the blaring of an alarm going off felt no different. Still, the surroundings from what I could perceive through blurry judgment seemed all too familiar, too.

The realization caught my breath right in the middle of my throat, making me cough out a raspy "fuck!" as my not being in the barracks finally registered.

I'd fallen asleep in Simon's quarters, and he hadn't woken me up?

What time was it, anyway?

The soft beam of sunlight barely peeking through his small window told me it was still early morning, but how early was the question. Had the other recruits noticed I didn't return last night? Did they care? Did they know?

Before anything, I found my phone which had been trying to wake me up for however long next to me, arm's length away on the nightstand, and turned it off. With a heavy sigh, I flopped back onto the bed. As I began to rub away the sleep from my fatigue-heavy face, my fingers brushed along something foreign.

"Whatthehell?" I mumbled sleepily while ripping off what the hell had been stuck onto my forehead. Through the hazy confusion from waking up after sleeping as long as I did – at least, it felt like a hibernation – the sleek texture of paper caught me off guard as I peeled it away.

A sticky note.

With one hand busy covering one eye as it rubbed away the sleep still tucked away in the corner, I read and held the short message with the appendage I had free.

'Called for a mission. Be back soon. Don't miss me too much.'

Sap.

0605 displayed across the screen as another alarm went off. I thought I had turned it off completely. Every muscle screamed at me as I reached to pick it up to see that the Brit had set an alarm every five minutes until 0700 just to ensure that I woke up.

"Okay, okay," I muttered, pushing myself off the mattress to a sitting position, my legs dangling off the edge.

How was I supposed to continue training when every tendon felt as though it was about to snap? Sparring with two of the best people I could think of to whip me back into shape truly did a number on my body. I felt as though I needed to go ahead and start searching for a retirement home at the crisp age of twenty-eight.

Although, I couldn't decide who would have been the more aggressive spar partner, Soap or Ghost. Both of them had their distinct fighting techniques, and they knew mine, too. While I had taken down men either their size or larger, I also had the shadows to protect me. I had nothing to help me sneak here.

It was a matter of time before Soap weaseled himself into one of my training sessions, and I honestly wasn't looking forward to it.

Depositing my sore feet into clean socks and my sneakers before pocketing the phone, I decided to face the inevitable stares of the people who probably noticed I hadn't returned to my bunk last night.

I mumbled the whole way down to the mess hall and surprisingly not too many people had shown up yet despite it being a bit late into the morning. Either they'd been called to the same mission as Simon or they'd woken up much earlier. Whatever the case might have been, I was relieved.

Gathering enough fuel to last me until the afternoon, I sat my tired ass down, and not even two minutes later another presence joined across from me at the table where there were plenty of other seats throughout the whole room.

With a glare, I looked up at a slightly familiar feminine face who only gave me a bright smile in return. What was her name? Mary? Melody? Fuck if I remembered.

Silently, I took a bite of my scrambled eggs and waited for the other recruit to initiate the conversation since she had the gall to join me with all of the empty seats.

As if she knew exactly what I was thinking, she chirped a cheery, "Mornin'!" Irish? Scottish? Honestly, I couldn't tell the difference sometimes. As good as I was with languages, I was absolute shit with accents.

It was also too damn early for this.

I grumbled a "Morning" back before shoveling another forkful of cooked protein.

"So, you and the Lieutenant, huh?"

Coughing up the eggs that I had attempted to swallow, I saw my life flash across my vision for the second time in my whole career. My throat now raw from almost choking, the orange juice I gulped down didn't help that much, but it unclogged the rest of the debris.

"Excuse me?" I strained out before clearing my voice.

'What the hell did you just say?' teetered on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't want to seem threatening right off rip.

"Oh," her face widened, visibly stunned from my flabbergasted reaction, and she sputtered the rest of her response, "I jus'- Th' gym- You an' him- The shoulder-" She mimicked the action of hoisting someone over her shoulder.

All I could manage was a stunned face of my own, but I needed to snap out of it so I didn't raise any suspicions.

Probably a bit too late for that, though. The damage had been done.

I realized, then, how I recognized her.

I watched the doors slam before me, and the last thing I saw were two recruits sneaking in a glance as they pretended to exercise.

"Oh, that," I said through nervous laughter with a complimentary shrug, "Just some good banter between us, you know? Nothin' more than just us messin' around."

As her piercing gaze bore holes into me even when I tried to eat the rest of my breakfast, acting like nothing was happening between Simon and me, I just knew she didn't believe me.

"Messin' around, eh?"

I was grateful she let me swallow my food at least before saying that. A sigh left my lips as I placed my forearms against the table's surface, and my hazel eyes met her electric blue ones.

"Listen..." I trailed off, allowing her the opportunity to give me her name.

"Mara."

I had the 'M' right, at least.

"Mara. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is happening between the Lieutenant and myself," I insisted, expression deadpanned, "It was just a bit of horse playing after we sparred. That's it."

We stared at one another, seeing which one of us was going to crack first, and it was not about to be me. Her lips twitched in a knowing smirk, making me mentally curse in all the languages I knew.

"Uh-huh."

My head tilted to the side. "You have the freedom to not believe me, that's fine, but he's basically like a brother to me."

While I simultaneously cringed at the lie, Gaz's comment about Southerners fucking their cousins popped into my head, and it relieved some of the tension in my chest.

"Righ'," she said slowly, cautiously, "Because, if ya noticed the way he looks in ya direction, that's not a brotherly typ'a look. An' I don' think brothers smack their sister's arses."

I wished I had some Grey Goose to put in my orange juice or just a shot of it would do. Never been much of a drinker before noon, but I'd make an exception at that moment.

My eyes narrowed, and I couldn't even get another word in as she continued when I inhaled to verbalize another excuse.

"'M not an eejit, Kelsey," she said with a genuine smile, softening her expression from the previous mischievous one that told me that she'd caught me right in her trap. "So, how'd it all start with ya fella, and how long ya been goin' steady?"

So composed, she took a bite of her banana, looking so innocent as if she didn't know a secret that could ruin me.

As if it couldn't tarnish Simon's career, either.

I was going to kick his ass when he returned.