Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
She stared. “A what?”
Ace’s mouth twitched. “An F-35C.”
“Oh.” She nodded like that explained anything. It absolutely did not.
“I was ambushed by J-20s.”
She squinted. “Okay… so you’re flying, and you’re up against two other guys?”
Ace grinned faintly. “Yeah.”
“Where were you?”
“Can’t tell you that.”
Couldn’t she just look up who flew J-20s? “Of course you can’t.”
“We had stealth and a superior electronic warfare suite,” he continued. “I broke their radar lock and closed to visual range.”
She lifted both hands. “I don’t understand half of what you’re saying.”
“I know.”
Okay, it was still interesting. “So what happened?”
“I took out two, but I sustained a strike to my hydraulic lines.”
“That’s bad?”
He didn’t smile. “Critical failure point.”
She swallowed. “Then you crashed.”
Ace’s jaw flexed. “Let’s just say I stayed with the aircraft until I was over deep enough water that it would sink. No tech recovery for anyone hostile.”
Her eyes widened. “And then?”
“I ejected.”
Her heart stuttered. “You landed in the water?”
“Yeah.”
She watched him more carefully now. The casual tone didn’t match the tightness in his shoulders, the shadow behind his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“This is all covered by privilege, since I can’t talk about it. I’ve definitely said too much.”
Yet he trusted her. She felt that as a woman and not a doctor. Even so, she bit back a wince. “So you’re talking to me as your doctor. I understand.”
“No. I wouldn’t tell my doctor any of this. But I need privilege.”
Okay. That was fair and a definite gray area, but she wasn’t letting go of this sense of trust she’d just found between them. She’d deal with that information later. “If you survived and won, why is it eating you up so much?”
Ace shrugged, but the movement carried weight. “I lost a friend. A good one. Two weeks before that.” His eyes drifted, unfocused for a second. “His mission was less dangerous than mine, and he should’ve survived.”
Oh. Now she hurt for him. This wasn’t her area of expertise. “Survivor’s guilt?”
“And nightmares.”
Something inside her softened. Without thinking, she shifted closer on the sofa and tugged the blanket aside in silent invitation.
Ace hesitated only half a beat before moving. The couch dipped under his weight as he slid in beside her, bringing warmth and that masculine scent that always scrambled her thoughts. He didn’t touch her, not exactly, but his shoulder pressed lightly against hers. Solid. Steady. Entirely distracting. “That’s all I can tell you,” he said, turning his head to face her.
She didn’t feel like a doctor with him. Never had. This was a bad gray area. “Is there anyone you can talk to?”
“I just did.”
Her lips twitched despite herself. “Not exactly true.”
Ace’s mouth curved faintly.
She drew a slow breath. “Okay. I’m not your doctor.” A pause. “I mean, I am your doctor, but I really think you should see someone who specializes in PTSD. You had a lot going on even before the crash. It probably all coalesced into that day.”
“Probably,” he said agreeably. Then he turned his head, fixing her with that direct, unreadable stare. “Your turn.”
She sighed. “Fine.” She tucked the blanket more securely around her legs, though now it covered both of them. The contact with him was maddeningly pleasant. Dangerous territory. “Obviously, you know I dated Kyle. I was a doctor in D.C. I didn’t really love the city.”
Ace glanced at her. “Did you grow up in D.C.?”
“No.” She shook her head “I grew up in a small town in Maine.”
“You still have family there?”
Her smile faded. “No. It was just my mom and me.” The loss of her mother still hurt. “She passed about eight years ago. Car wreck.”
I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Yeah.” She remembered her mom every day. “Me too. I’m still in touch with friends from school, but I don’t have any family.” The words came out quieter now, edged with an emotion she didn’t usually let show. She glanced sideways at him. “I kind of envy you and your brothers.”
Ace huffed softly.
“When I first met you guys, there was distance between you,” she continued. “Not so much now.” A pause. “I’ve wished more than once I’d had a sibling.”
“I wish you did, too. My brothers are everything to me.”
She liked that. A lot. The room settled into a softer silence. The late Alaskan light filtered through the curtains, pale and endless. “Anyway, I started dating Kyle, and things were good for a few months and then turned bad.”
It was subtle, but Ace’s body went still beside her.
She needed to find better words. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No.” She exhaled. “It was more gradual than that. He didn’t exactly put me down. He just… had me doubting myself. Constantly. I can’t even explain how he did it.”
Ace’s jaw flexed.
“Gaslighting is such a stupid term, but that’s how it felt. I started having panic attacks,” she said.
The admission hung there, rawer than intended. Saying it aloud still made her feel vaguely foolish. Exposed.