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There are lots of videos. Not as many as I would have liked, but we were always doing dumb shit in college. I want her to “meet” the real Colt, though. Not drunk Colt, or obnoxious hockey player Colt.

Christmas.

Our last Christmas together.

We’d been in Afghanistan that year, unable to get home because we were supposed to be separating from the military in a few months.

“Here,” I say, pressing the button. “We recorded this for Briar and the guys.”

“Merry Christmas, guys!” My voice comes on first and Colt pops up from behind me, shirtless and wearing a Santa hat.

“Merry Christmas, you fuckers!” he yells. “Except Briar. Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

“Sorry we couldn’t get home for the holidays,” I continue.

“But we’ll be home in time for your graduation, Briar!” Colt is grinning, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And I have a present for you.”

“I hope you got the stuff we ordered,” I say into the camera. “It wasn’t much but we wanted you to know we were thinking about all of you.”

“Hey, they get to see my cute face,” Colt interjects, laughing. “What more do they need?”

I watch as I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him. “Put a shirt on, you loser.”

“Why? My nips offend you?”

“Shut up.”

Our banter was second nature—even when filming a holiday video for friends and family.

“By the way—the cookies were awesome, Briar,” Colt says, nodding. “I had to hide a few before fatso here ate them all.”

“Fuck all the way off!” I say, elbowing him.

“Ow!” Colt yelps, grabs his side, and pretends to collapse in pain.

“Asshole…sorry, gang. Anyway, we just wanted to send this so you’d have it when you wake up, because we have to go on patrol soon.”

“Hey, for real, we’ll be home in April,” Colt says, popping back up, “and I’m looking forward to some ice time together, boys. I’m about done with this desert heat. Oh, and maybe more cookies—because they’re really the bomb, Briar. Thank you.” And for a few seconds, he’s being completely serious and sincere, something we didn’t see from him very often.

“We miss you,” I say. “And we’ll be home soon. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, everyone. Miss you.”

The video ends and I feel a weird scratching behind my eyes.

Fuck.

This is why I don’t watch the videos very often—it hits me right in the gut every time.

“He was handsome,” Willow says softly. “And funny.”

“Yeah, he was a hoot. And the ladies seemed to agree with your assessment.”

“Thank you for playing that for me.” When I look up there are tears in her eyes too, but she’s smiling. “I think I would have liked him.”

“He would have liked you too.” I smile fondly. “He would be giving me so much shit right now… you’re sleeping with Willow St. Claire? What the fuck, dude? She’s way too hot for you…”

She giggles. “Well, if he were here, I would set him straight about that. I happen to think you’re incredibly hot, Mr. Dash.”