“Right now?” I looked at the street to see who was there to pick him up, but there were no cars. “You’re walking?” I asked, again engaging in way too much conversation with him. Every few seconds I forgot I was already late to dinner.

He shrugged. “Yeah. My truck’s there.” He looked down at his uniform. “And all of my clothes.”

“But it’s so far from here to walk. Why don’t you call an Uber?”

He shrugged again.

Was he really going to walk three miles?

I looked at the digital clock on my dash: 7:06. I should be knocking on my dad’s door right now, but here I was, sitting in my driveway, debating with myself whether or not to offer him a ride to his company. We were both going to the same place, after all . . . well, depending where his company was—Fort Benning wasn’t as big as, say, Fort Hood, but it was spread out and took a while to get from one side to the other.

Without saying a word, Kael stood up straight, his upper body disappearing from view as he walked away. I called out for him again and leaned toward the passenger side, almost by instinct.

“Do you want a ride? I’m going through the West Gate—where’s your company?”

He leaned down again. “It’s near Patton, same gate, but I’m good. Thank you, though.”

I was a bit annoyed and surprised by his blunt response, so it took me a second to say anything.

“I’ll literally pass it on my way. I’m already late anyway, it won’t kill me to be a tiny bit later.” I said that, but I knew every second would count with my dad.

I could only see Kael’s hands, because they were no longer in his pockets. He was fiddling with his fingers, picking at the skin around his fingernails. An anxious tick? I could have watched him stand there for an hour, taking in the tiny bits of character he was giving me. My mouth was physically dry, desperately drinking in the smallest details, the freckle on the tip of his thumb.