Off Base by Sophie Jordan, Tessa Bailey

you are, but I know how you can atone.”
    She quirked an eyebrow. Go on.
    Darla dipped a finger into her cranberry juice and popped it into her mouth. “Tell me what happened with the virgin.”
    “What?” Her spine snapped straight. “Don’t call him that. What?”
    Darla snorted. “Your reaction is not telling whatsoever.” She shifted in the cracked leather booth to face Kenna. “Come on. Unburden yourself. It’ll be like, I don’t know, losing your virginity or something.”
    “ You’re the twat.”
    “I’ll own that.” Darla stacked her hands beneath her chin and stared. “Wait-ing.”
    Kenna set her bourbon down with a thunk . “He…spent the night.”
    Her friend did a double take. “Uh, the whole night?”
    She nodded.
    “Like, sleeping until dawn, pass the milk, borrow your toothbrush—”
    “Yeah, there was neither milk passing nor toothbrush borrowing, but it was dawn when he left.”
    Darla was silent a moment. “You sent him packing.”
    “Understatement.” Her stomach rebelled at the memory of Beck’s face after what she’d said. The lies she’d told to make him leave. Because what was the other option? Have him stay and do what? Eat pancakes? No. That wasn’t her. Okay, she might have developed some murky feelings for the major, but they couldn’t be more opposite. He was a relationship guy. She’d rather hear “Sweet Home Alabama” a fourth time. Sending Beck packing had done him a favor. Come Thursday morning, he could board the plane to Georgia with a clear conscience and some handy sexual experience. If she gave him any more encouragement, he might do something stupid. Like stay at Black Rock. For her. Which would make things much harder when he finally left. Because it would only be a matter of time.
    No one stuck around forever.
    “Can we drop it now?”
    Darla lowered her glasses. “I haven’t said anything in ten minutes.”
    “Huh.” Kenna reached for her glass, but her hand froze in midair when Beck walked in. On cue, her thighs felt hot, her breasts heavy. The oxygen in her lungs seeped out like air from a tire. In faded jeans and a fitted navy blue T-shirt, he was the male equivalent of a triple fudge sundae with a cherry on top. Every man in the bar stood at least half a foot shorter, save the dark-haired man at his side who was also pretty tall, but still quite didn’t reach Beck’s height. Shit , she was staring at him like a certified goober. He hadn’t seen her yet, thank Christ. She scooted into the shadows and ducked her head down. “He’s here. He’s here. Is there a back entrance?”
    “Now there’s a question a virgin would ask,” Darla murmured. “He must have rubbed off on you.”
    “Save the comedy act. We’re in full-on crisis mode.”
    Darla calmly sipped her drink. “Point him out to me before we steal into the night. I earned that by putting up with your twattage. I want to see the first man who managed to breach your apartment door.”
    Kenna dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “Blue T-shirt at the bar. You can’t miss him, he’s huge.”
    Her gaze scanned the crowd and stopped, mouth falling open. “How did that stay a virgin?”
    “Long story involving a preacher’s daughter and self-imposed abstinence.” Jealousy over the two-timing Mary bubbled in the region of her midsection and she ground her teeth. “Can we go?”
    “You’re not going to introduce me?”
    “Darla.”
    “Okay, fine.” Darla scooted off the booth and stood. “You stay here lurking in the dark and I’ll scout alternative exits.”
    She sent her friend a grateful look before hunkering down to wait.
    * * *
    The day was fast becoming the worst of Beck’s life. And when you’ve lived through sandstorms and had tiny pieces of shrapnel removed in the field, that was definitely saying something. On the barstool next to him sat his best friend, Cullen Flanagan. They’d gone through boot camp together, side by side. Prior to shipping out,