“You a Marine?” Jerry asked.

“You figured that out all on your own?” I asked.

He chuckled, immune to my barb. “Did you see any action?”

“Wanna see my scars?”

Jerry laughed again, and Reese did too. I wasn’t sure why strangers thought I was so amusing. It was usually either a nervous thing or they found my bluntness refreshing. Either way, humans were attracted to people who treated them like shit, and I didn’t understand it. Almost as if they needed the approval from someone they knew didn’t offer it very often, whether they knew it or not.

Jerry left me for a moment to serve the hotshots. He firmly told them they’d only get one round, and then he would be cutting them off. They booed and whined, but ultimately agreed.

“So,” Reese began, pausing after I sighed. “You just here to drink then?”

I took a sip.

“Okay then.” She took a swig and watched her friends. Most were on the small dance floor with women who could’ve been their mothers. I shook my head and turned to rest my elbows on the bar. I was already friends with the bartender, and the hotshots weren’t arrogant, misogynistic pricks—so far. Not looking like a promising night to blow off steam. Fuck.

“Hey,” a man behind me said. He was breathing hard from dancing. I turned to see his unassuming grin. He had a full but kept beard, his round, brown eyes matched his hair. He was good-looking, but I could tell he was nice. Why bother?

I turned back around.

“She’s just here to drink,” Reese said. “It’s not just you, she won’t speak to me either.”

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I could feel him walk away, and an old, familiar twinge in my heart made me pause. I’d never thought twice about hurting anyone’s feelings before, not sure why I cared now.

Jerry watched the man for a moment, then crossed his arms and pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. “That’s Zeke. He might be the best of them.”

“Is. Is the best of them,” Reese said.

“You’re a good one too,” Jerry said. He nodded toward her while smiling at me. “She mostly works on the helos.”

“Because Bobby tears the shit outta them like everything else,” she grumbled. “But Zeke is worth talking to."

“I don’t care,” I said, taking another swig. Jerry looked at my left hand. I lifted my fist and then my middle finger, showing him my wedding band. Jerry seemed confused, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m married.”

“That’s the wrong finger,” Reese said.

“Is it?” I said, putting down my hand.

Jerry nodded. “Okay. I won’t try to set you up with Zeke then.”

One of my eyebrows shot up. “Do you play matchmaker a lot?”

“Just for them.”

“Not that we ask,” Reese said.