“Well, back when I was eighteen, I wanted to please my dad. But when I took some pre-med science courses, I was bored out of my mind. It wasn’t until my sophomore year when I took a psychology class that I found my passion.”
I let out a breath before I continue. “When I told my parents I was considering changing my major to psychology, my dad of course tried to pressure me to pursue psychiatry, since that requires medical school. I waited until after my last semester at college before I told him I was graduating with a degree in psychology and not going to medical school. He responded by cutting off my access to my trust fund.”
Cody sits up straight. “He cut you off from your trust fund because you didn’t want to be a doctor?”
“Well, that and a few other things. He tried to control me, and I wouldn’t allow it. I got a taste of freedom at college, and I wasn’t going to give that up.”
“Good for you. But what about your mother? Did she agree with cutting you off?”
“Well, she didn’t fight for me, if that’s what you are asking. She said it would be good for me to learn how to make it on my own. And yes, the freedom was good. But paying for graduate school myself wasn’t.”
“But you must have found a way, you’re a professor now.”
I smile. “Yes, I did. I got a job and worked every chance I could. I also took out some loans. It was worth it. But you know the funny part?”
“What?”
“I heard my dad tells people I’m a doctor of psychology because I got my PhD.”
His eyes glimmer as he stares at me.
I can’t help but smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You have a PhD? That’s huge. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. Now tell me something about you. Why the Navy and not another branch?”
He leans back and crosses his arms. “When I was younger, I dreamed about becoming a SEAL.”
“You never mentioned that.”
He shrugs. “By the time I met you, I was really into football and then when I got the scholarship to play at Havenwood, I figured I’d pursue that instead.”
I grin. “Well, if you made it to becoming a SEAL, clearly you were good at it. Why did you leave?”
His smile fades. “I was taken captive briefly. It shook me, and after I got back stateside, I decided it was time to do something else.”
My hand goes to my mouth. Cody was held captive, and I never knew. He could have been killed. I might not have ever seen him again.
I blink back the tears that threaten to fall. “Were you tortured?”
“No. I was lucky, and a team rescued me before it got bad.”
I nod.
“Let’s clean up,” he says gently. He stands and takes our empty plates to the kitchen counter, and I carry our coffee mugs.
“Did you know what you wanted to do next?” I ask.
“Sort of. A good friend of mine, Thunder, works for Reed Hawthorne Security. I visited him on a couple of leaves, and he made it sound like the best of both worlds.”
I rinse the mugs, and he takes them from me, placing them in the dishwasher.
“And it is,” he admits.
“Where do you normally live?”
My throat is thick with the question. Because really, what are we doing here? Even if we have a connection, he probably has a life set up somewhere else.
