The Final Line by Kendall McKenna Page A

investigation?”
    Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t need Sean thinking he was the type of Marine whose behavior needed to be scrutinized. “No, the incident, not me. The Afghanis say things happened but I wasn’t a part of any of that. My part of the mission isn’t under scrutiny.”
    “But Nygaard’s is.” It wasn’t a question. “Is this why you hate him?”
    A good question. Corey didn’t know for sure, but he was beginning to guess. “I think it might be part of the reason why I don’t like to be around him, yeah.”
    Sean fell silent and Corey was too exhausted to try to decipher how he was feeling about this FUBAR goat-roping. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was more morning than it was night. He dug his phone out of his pocket.
    “It’s too late for you to drive me back to base,” he said, finding the number for the taxi company. “Just drop me back at the bar so I can meet my cab.”
    “I am not dropping you off at the bar,” Sean said heatedly.
    “This has been one majorly fucked up night and I am not making you drive all that way to Pendleton and then back home alone.” Corey was actually angry at Sean for his stubbornness. “If you just drop me at the bar, it’s a short drive home for you. It won’t matter if I fall asleep in the back of the cab.”
    Sean didn’t argue immediately. “I’m almost always still up at this hour, I’m not going to fall asleep,” he replied. “But if you’re really worried about it, I can take you to my place and you can have the cab pick you up there.”
    Besides the fact that Corey was afraid to be alone with Sean someplace private like his home, he could see no flaw in that plan. “I suppose I could also help you unload your car if we did that.”
    “Unloading is easy,” Sean said with a grin. “Everything gets stored in the garage. Only my guitar goes inside.”
    “How many mikes out are we?” Corey asked, calculating when to tell the taxi to meet him.
    “Excuse me?” Sean looked puzzled. “Mikes?”
    Corey chuckled and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I must be more tired than I realized. It’s military jargon. Minutes. How many minutes will it take to get to your place.”
    “Oh.” His expression cleared and he seemed nonplussed. “ETA just about five mikes.” Sean remained straight faced as he drove.
    Snorting a laugh, not quite sure if Sean was teasing or adapting, he dialed the taxi company. Sean rattled off his address and the dispatcher told Corey it would be at least fifteen minutes before they could get a driver to that particular part of town.
    Sean backed into the attached garage of his townhouse and cut the engine. He opened the rear hatch of the SUV and showed Corey where to store the plastic storage bins and the amplifier. Leading the way into a corridor, Sean carried only his guitar case.
    “You can keep an eye out there for your cab,” he said, gesturing toward a heavy looking door with a small, square window set high up. Which meant it was face level for Corey. “And I’ll just run up and put this inside.”
    Corey watched Sean take the flight of stairs two at a time and disappear down the hallway to the left. There were sounds of a key in a lock and some other quiet rustling. Corey leaned against the door so he could peer out the window. A very short time later, Sean came bounding down the stairs.
    The corridor was dim, lit only by the single bulb on the upper landing. Sean leaned against the door, on the other side of the small window, mirroring Corey. Moonlight streamed in, cutting through some of the darkness, and bathing Sean’s prominent features in silver and shadow.
    Corey’s chest tightened painfully and he stopped breathing. Sean was so fucking beautiful. The moonlight caught the highlights in his light brown hair. His eyelashes looked longer and darker in the dimness and they swept softly against his cheeks as he looked down at his own feet. His sharp cheekbones cast dark shadows