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a voice in my brain yelled at me to tell him about Warren and get it over with.

“How about tonight then? We could grab a bite to eat.”

I walked into my kitchen. “It’s late. I’ll call you later in the week, all right?”

“What’s wrong? You didn’t like our first date?”

“It was fine, but I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said.”

“Well, I’m going to go. I need some sleep. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“All right. But just know I’m not going to stop trying to get that second date.”

“You can keep trying, but I’m not making any promises.”

“Later on, Rose.” He ended the call before I had a chance to say anything else.

Melvin had looked me up a week earlier. Against my better judgment, I went out with him, mainly out of curiosity. A part of me was still bitter about not getting my story two years ago, and another part of me was still curious about Warren. Hence, Melvin had struck me as an opportunity to dig for information.

But now, regrettably, both men were interested in me and I didn’t know what to do. In Afghanistan, I had leaned toward Warren, but was ultimately left wondering if that had been a mistake. Melvin was much easier to read, but there was something predatory about him that was an immediate turn off; it wasn’t like I could forget how forceful he had tried to be with me in Afghanistan.

After pouring myself a glass of water, I retired to my bedroom. It was early, but I actually need to be up early for work the next day; my skills as an editor were in high demand.

I worked for a publisher of trashy romance novels, which was as far away from journalism as one could get. While I told myself I didn’t care what other people thought, none of my friends or family knew about the job.

As I laid under the covers, memories of that night in Afghanistan flooded my mind. Warren and I had been so close to taking our relationship to the next level.

The look on his face after the explosion was permanently etched in my memory.

Why had both he and Melvin come back into my life so suddenly? Was it some kind of sign?

I had been sleeping with one man on and off for the past year. He’d been one of few male romance novel writers, but I had broken things off with him some months earlier. He’d been okay in bed, but I couldn’t stand him the rest of the time, so continuing things with him had been hardly worth the trouble.

And now Warren had returned to stoke my fire completely out of the blue. While I suppose it wasn’t too surprising that he had returned to New York—Melvin too, for that matter—I just hadn’t really given much thought to the possibility that they would. Even though they both had been living in New York before leaving for Afghanistan, and both were originally from Colorado just like me, our paths had never crossed before heading to Afghanistan, so I’d had no reason to assume they would afterwards. We hadn’t made arrangements to keep in touch before I was sent away from the Savage Soldiers base.

Yet, I’d now been out with both of them within a week of each other. Destiny certainly could be strange.

Warren was the one who regularly occupied my mind though. I suddenly felt compelled to call him.

I reached over to grab my phone from the nightstand. I turned on the screen, tapping and swiping until reaching his name on my contact list.

Then I remembered how awfully late it was.

But unable to resist, I tapped the screen. I held the phone to my ear, my heart pounding as it rang.

“Hello?” he answered a few seconds later.

“Hey, it’s Rose.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, but I thought it could be better…”

“Huh?”

“You know, the night I left Afghanistan? What we were about to do…”