"Hey, shit head," Murphy's voice calls down to me, drawing my eyes up from the toolbox my hands are currently rummaging through. "You think you could give me a hand on this panel?"

"Yeah," I call back over my shoulder, trying to remember what the hell I was coming over here to grab in the first place because today my mind is foggy with the Monday- and Lani- blues. My phone vibrates inside the pocket of my forest green, black, and sandy-brown cammies, only distracting me more. But despite the fact that I know I need to get my ass to work, knowing who the text is probably from convinces me that the work can wait a few more minutes.

"Just one second," I mumble, keeping my back to my friend as I pretend to search through the toolbox in front of me. I don't hear any further objections behind me, so I wipe off my grease-stained hands against my pants and fetch out my phone, skimming my eyes across the message lighting up the screen.

🔵

Already I'm smiling like a damn fool, and I'm really impressed at her ability to always make me do that even after months of us texting back and forth. That's the thing about Lelani, she doesn't even have to try and excite me; it comes naturally. Trying my best to remain inconspicuous, I force the amused grin off of my face as my fingers quickly type back a message.

⚪️

⚪️

🔵

Just the mention of my boss has my eyes paranoidly scanning my surroundings and making sure that he doesn't remain anywhere in sight. And he doesn't, so I draw my attention back down to my phone and write out my next proposal.

⚪️

Drills and hammers echo in the workspace around me, reminding me that as much as I don't want to, I need to focus on the maintenance I've been assigned to today. The last thing I need on my plate is Seargent Campbell being on my ass about not getting anything done and keeping me here longer than we're scheduled to work today. Lani's competition is only days away now and she's needing me to come and film her surfing so that she can perfect some of her maneuvers. Not that she needs any help in that area, she's a beast on the waves, but it does give me an excuse to see her, so I'll happily fulfill cameraman duties.

"Earth to Dawson! Need your help," my friend huffs, and I can hear the strain in his voice as he attempts to remove the panel he's working on. "NOW!"

"Oh, calm down Chicken Legs," I chuckle, tossing my phone down onto the toolbox and trading it out for a ratchet, drill, wrench, and speed handle because it wouldn't surprise me if he grabbed the wrong damn tools. "I'm coming."

I make my way over to the metal ladder leading up to the wing of the jet Murphy's working on, my steel-toed boots clanking against its metal steps as I climb. Clambering onto the aircraft, I join his side, dropping the tools in my hands down and teasing, "What do you need help with, princess?"

"I ain't a princess. But since you wanna call me that," he spits back, sliding the screwdriver in his hands over to me, "you can be my knight in shining armor and take over for me."

"Hey, wait," I order, catching the tool between my fingertips right before it topples off the metal edging of the jet. My eyes follow him as he slips past me and begins descending down the ladder I just climbed to get up here. "What the hell man? Where are you going?"

"Lunch," he replies matter-of-factly.

"It's 10:30," I argue. There's no way he's seriously leaving his entire job for me to do. I stand and move towards the tip of the wing, peering beneath it to see my friend still moving down the ladder.

"Oh, right," he quips back, halting his movements when he reaches the bottom step and sending me a snide smile from the ground. "I meant, brunch. Want me to grab you something while I'm gone?"

"No, I want you to get your ass back up here."

"I don't think they have that on the menu, but I can always check," he taunts, stalking further away down the hangar. "Don't have too much fun without me, ya' hear?"

"Screw you, Murph," I chuckle.

Pivoting on his heel, he mocks, "I didn't know you swang that way, Brodie!" His eyes focus on something I can't see underneath the jet and then land back onto me. "Well, isn't this perfect timing?"

I dart my eyes down to the place he was just looking, cursing under my breath when I recognize the arrogant son-of-a-bitch walking towards us. "I'm sure Hammond, here, is more than happy to give you a hand while I'm gone."

"I'm gonna kill you," I snarl.

"I'll bring you back an omelet, honey," he calls back one last time before disappearing around a corner.

Where the hell is Delk when I need him?

I hear Hammond scoff below me, but I do my best to ignore him as I force my attention back onto the job I came up here to do. Dropping to my knees, I pick up the drill beside me and start my work. One by one, I begin to loosen the screws lining the square sheet of metal attached to the wing, forcing my thoughts on the maintenance instead of the maintainer only a few feet below me.

"Man," I hear between the silent space of the drill humming. "You two are adorable."

I don't even give him the satisfaction of a glance, thinking that my unbothered stance will shut him the hell up, but of course, it just encourages him to keep going.

"I thought it would take you longer to move on from Lelani, but hey- good for you to be putting yourself out there again."

"Is there a reason you're here or did you just come over here to annoy the shit out of me?"

"You know, that does sound fun," he laughs, "but no. Sergeant Campbell asked me to come take a look at the engine and make sure you two asshats didn't overlook anything."

"How thoughtful," I grit through my teeth, internally fighting hard not to say more.

Hammond really isn't worth it.

We both send a quick glare to one another, but I force my gaze back onto my work, removing the last three screws left and peeling the metal sheet up. Setting the panel down beside me, I pick up my wrench and begin to tend to the exposed actuator that was hiding underneath it. Using the tool in my hand, I twist and free the nut holding one of its corners in place, another thick layer of grease coating my skin.

Rattling noise in the distance fills my ears as I work and I glance over my shoulder to the recurrent sound, spotting my phone lit up and vibrating against the metal shelf of my toolbox. As much as I would love to read the text I know is hung across its screen, I decide to stay put and continue what I'm in the middle of doing because the sooner I'm done with this, the sooner I don't have to listen to Hammond's provocation.

Once I have all corners of the actuator free, I carefully reel it out of the aircraft, setting it down with a thud and hearing my phone vibrate against the toolbox again. And again. And again. And again.

"Good god, dude. Shut your phone up-"

I roll my eyes, reaching over to the new actuator Murphy left behind as I counter back, "My hands are a little tied up here."

And again.

"Seriously?" I faintly hear him huff, his feet beginning to shuffle underneath of me. Making his way over the toolbox himself, he informs me, "Then I'll shut it up for you."

His hands are on the phone before I even have a second to protest, and already I can feel more annoyance bleed its way to the surface. "Put it down."

He completely ignores my command, a malicious grin rising against his face as he draws it closer to his eyes instead. "I'll see what I can work out, Michigan boy," he reads the text out loud. Cocking his head, he looks up at me and says, "And here I was thinking you two had called it quits."

"It's none of your business," I spit back, "Put it down."

"I don't think I will," he smirks, scrolling his thumb across the screen and reading more of our messages. "She's wondering if you're still planning to meet her at the beach this evening. What should I say back to her?"

I start to work faster, dropping the jet piece down inside the wing and starting to secure its corners back into place. "You don't say a goddamn thing. Put my phone down now."

"You're really getting worked up, huh?" He sneers, leaning back and settling against the toolbox as he goes through my phone some more. "What is it that made her come back to your sorry ass anyway? I'm gonna guess daddy issues. Those girls always tend to settle for trash."

I swear I can practically feel my blood boiling, and the amused expression he's wearing lets me know that he can probably see my irritation written all over my reddened face. It's not that I give an actual shit about what he has to say about me, it's him talking about Lani that's getting under my skin.

"Aww, you even have her as your screensaver and everything. That's cute."

"I swear to god, Hammond-"

"Oh, wow," he gasps, widening his eyes at whatever he's looking at on the screen. "You've been holding out on us, brother."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lick his lips, and my stomach instantly coils, my grip growing tighter against the wrench in my hand.

"You think she'd mind if you shared these ones with us?"

He twists the phone around for me to see, and disgust and anger immediately course through my veins. It's the pictures I took of Lani in my dorm room; pictures only I was meant to see. Dropping the tools in my hand down, I bolt up, charge across the wing, and zip down the ladder. Taking a leap over the last few steps, my feet slam against the ground and Hammond stands up straighter, tightening his clutch against my phone as I stomp over to him.

"Give me my fucking phone," I growl, snatching for it but failing to get ahold of it as he swipes it out of reach.

"I wonder what Daddy Campbell would think about you having these on your phone, Dawson?"

I take another step towards him, my jaw clenching with rage despite how hard I'm fighting to stay calm. It wouldn't be helpful for me to cause a scene, especially knowing that the man mentioned is lurking around here somewhere.

"Cause he still doesn't know about the two of you, right?"

"Hammond, please," I grit my teeth, pleading for Lani's sake and reaching for my phone again. "Just give it back to me, dammit."

"Dawson," I hear Delk appear behind me. "You good?"

But I'm so mad that I can't even think straight enough to respond to him, my focus is pinned on the cocky asshole in front of me, anticipating his every move.

"Just let me get one last look," he requests, dangling my phone out to the side and making a game out of how worked up he can manage to get me. "It's only fair because after all, it was me who won that bet of ours, not you."

Inserting himself between the two of us, Delk reaches out for the phone, "What the hell is wrong with you? Give him back his phone."

My hands shove my friend to the side, refusing to let him get caught in the middle of our fight.

"You're a fucking pig." I dart towards the phone, finally catching hold of it and yanking it free from his grip. I shove it back into my pocket, a wave of emotions still shaking me to my very core but I do my best to reel them in as I take a step back. "Which is exactly why she didn't waste any time even trying to get to know your worthless, arrogant, and pretentious ass."

His jaw tightens, but he doesn't manage to find anything to say back, instead, keeping silent as his glare bores into me.

"Come on, dude," Delk urges me quietly, pulling me further away from Hammond and leading me back towards the jet. "Breathe, alright? You know he's just trying to piss you off."

"She did me a favor," I hear him retort behind me, "I don't like the taste of hand-me-down slut anyways."

And before I can even stop myself, I'm pivoting on my heel, pounding in Hammond's direction, shoving my hands against his chest, and pushing him back. He stumbles, loud commotion ringing through the air as he hits hard against the toolbox. Delk's hands are on me now, his fingers digging into my arms and attempting to hold me back.

"DAWSON," I hear another voice bark in the distance, halting all three of us in place from moving another inch. "My office, right now!"

"Sir, I-"

"Right fucking now!"

Delk releases his hold on me, sending me one last piece of advice before he leaves my side. "Keep your cool, bro. For Lelani."

My heart is hammering and my ears are pounding, my body still trapped in a state of fight-or-flight as I take my first step towards Seargent Campbell's office. Hammond wears a wicked smile as I pass him and keeping his voice low so that only I can hear, he sends one final dig. "Time for those secrets of yours to come to light, brother."

My nerves are reckless as I unwillingly lead myself to where I was ordered to go, unsure of what all Lelani's dad saw, or even worse, heard.

Does he know about us now? How do I explain myself for pushing Hammond? What if he calls Hammond in to ask what happened? What if Hammond is the one who ends up telling him everything?

"Sit your ass down," he growls as my feet step through the door frame of his office.

Releasing a heavy breath, I plop down into the armchair facing his desk, my fingers trembling with the adrenaline coursing through my body. I keep my glare pinned on my boots and the floor beneath me because I'm terrified that with one look, my eyes will tell him everything I've been hiding these past couple of months. The door slams and my ears ring from the loud bang it causes to ricochet off of the walls around me.

"You want to tell me what in the hell that was about out there?"

"Nothing," I mutter, clenching my fists together and trying and contain my residual anger.

"Look at me when you're speaking," he orders, compelling my eyes to focus on his. They're a dark brown with a hint of green and not a single bit like Lani's and at this moment, I'm incredibly thankful for that. "Don't tell me nothing. Why the hell did you put your hands on him?

"He likes to push my buttons," I say, making sure my voice is plenty loud and clear enough for him to hear. "So I pushed him."

"I'd watch your tone when you're speaking to me, boy."

I grit my teeth as the last word rolls off his tongue, but I swallow back the 'I'm not your boy' that I want to say, and instead go with, "I'm sorry, sir, but Hammond is constantly trying to start shit- ehem- trying to pick a fight with me and I'm sick of it."

"How is he picking fights with you? Give me one excuse that makes it okay to start a damn physical altercation with him; one reason why I shouldn't write you up and send your ass down to see the Colonel."

Well, maybe I should start with the things he said about your daughter...

He cocks his head when he doesn't get an immediate answer from me. "I'm waiting, Dawson."

"I don't have one," I finally speak, refusing to tell the truth and get Lelani in trouble. Reluctantly, I lie, "I shouldn't have tried to start a fight with him."

I hear him let out a long sigh before he sinks down into his chair behind the desk, the sound of his foot tapping against the floor making me anxious for what the hell is going to happen next. "How many more times am I going to have to keep talking to you, Dawson? Why is it that I keep having problems with you?"

Once more, I stay quiet because I don't know what he wants me to say and I'm afraid that something that isn't supposed to will slip out of my mouth. "If I have a single more issue from you, you'll be gone. Do you understand? Whether that means moving you to another unit or to another base, you'll be gone. Is that clear?"

"My contract here isn't up for another two years."

"I can change that," he bites back matter-of-factly.

The thought has my stomach sinking and a hard knot forming in the back of my throat. I knew that when I got stationed in Hawaii my stay here wouldn't be permanent, but I definitely haven't been planning on leaving this soon.

"So do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," I gulp.

"I should write your ass up for what I just saw, but to be quite honest, I don't feel like filling out all that damn paperwork."

My eyes cut to the family portrait on his desk, Lani's face standing out most of all, but Campbell narrows his eyes on me and I force my stare away. "It won't happen again."

"It better not. Don't give me any more problems, Dawson," he sends one final warning. "I mean it."

"Yes sir," I say again with a nod, rising to my feet because I can't stand the suffocation of his office for much longer. My legs are weak, but I force my muscles to stay strong as I force my legs to walk.

"And let Hammond know that you'll be finishing up the rest of his jet today," I hear behind me as I pull the office door open.

ARE YOU ACTUALLY KIDDING ME?

"Aye, aye, sir," I agree, biting hard against the inside of my cheek to stifle the temptation to call this man names that he definitely would not like.

I don't waste any time getting back to my jet, knowing that the list of work it- and Hammond's aircraft- needs are going to keep me here until god knows what time tonight.

Delk waits for me at my toolbox as I walk up, immediately asking, "You alright, man? What'd Campbell say?"

"A bunch of bullshit," I huff back. "I have to stay and finish Hammond's jet."

"You can't be serious? Did you tell him that, that bastard started it?"

"Of course, I didn't," I say with vexation. "I would've had to tell him about Lani, and that's out of the question, so I just took the rap for it."

"You can't keep letting him get away with everything."

"Delk, please," I sigh. "There's nothing I can do. He's threatening to move me if I get in trouble again. Then shit really will hit the fan. I may not ever get to see Lani again if that happens."

"Shit," he breathes out heavily, shaking his head at the unfortunate circumstance. "I'm sorry, bro. I really am."

"Me too," I mumble back. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, man."

"Yeah, you do," he insists, nudging me. "You know as well as I do that you'll keep doing this as long as you have to. You love that girl too much not to."

And he's absolutely right, but this secret between Lani and me is really starting to wear on me. I'm tired of keeping her hidden.

"Why don't we focus on more of the positives from this?" My friend suggests.

"What positives?!"