Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,2

swallowed. “Probably not, no.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment. The waiter appeared with another beer for Holloway. He asked if I wanted one, but I’d barely drunk any of mine, and anyway, I was stopping at one beer since I was driving.

After the waiter had gone, we drank in silence for a few minutes. Then Holloway laughed bitterly as he watched himself picking at the label on his bottle. “You know what I need to do? Find some officer to be my sugar daddy.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it.” He shrugged, and he had a faint slur in his voice, so it might’ve been the two beers he’d drunk in rapid succession talking. “Find some single dude who isn’t going to go to college, marry him, have him transfer his GI Bill to me, and then, bam! I’ve got school and health insurance.” He chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he stared at the table with unfocused eyes. “Everybody else gets married to the military for the benefits. Why not me?”

With some effort, I managed a halfhearted laugh. “I mean, that’s an option, but I don’t think ‘military sugar daddy’ is a category on Tinder.”

“Should be,” he muttered before taking another drink.

The sad thing was, he was probably right. It really wasn’t that uncommon for service members—especially younger enlisted—to marry quickly for the benefits the military offered. When I’d enlisted ten years ago, I’d even been warned about women who were basically on the prowl for a military husband in order to get those sweet, sweet benefits. Women like that weren’t nearly as common as people insisted they were, but it happened, and anyway, it wasn’t really something I needed to worry about since I didn’t date women. I had yet to meet a man who was looking to lock down a military husband so they could score some Tricare and a housing allowance. It was entirely possible men like that were out there, but apparently they didn’t bother with me because I made it clear to anyone who read my profiles that I wanted a man in my bed, not a ring on my finger.

Not happening, gentlemen. Move along.

“Would it kill you to settle down?” my mother asked me multiple times at every holiday, family get-together, or—God help me—wedding. “You’re almost thirty, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since high school.”

Yeah, I wasn’t even thirty, the three boyfriends I’d had in high school had been assholes, and I rather enjoyed sampling the veritable cornucopia of horny men that Tinder and Grindr had to offer. What was the hurry?

Chill, Mom. There’s still time for grandbabies and all that.

I’ll find someone. I’ll get married. I’ll have kids.

Just…not right now.

Taking a sip from my mostly full beer, I looked at Holloway again.

And I nearly dropped the bottle.

Holloway had gotten himself into this situation, but my failure to keep my head together and handle it at my level had been the reason he’d lost his career and benefits. So…what if I could help him out in a way that assuaged my guilt, minimized the upheaval in his life, and had the added bonus of getting my mom to leave me alone about settling down?

From across the table, Holloway eyed me. “What?”

“I, um… So that whole sugar daddy thing…” I put the bottle down and pushed it safely away. “What if we got married?”

He blinked. “Say what now?”

I sat up a little. “I’m not exactly a sugar daddy, but if we get married, you’re entitled to all those benefits.”

Holloway stared at me for a few long seconds. “Dude, you don’t even like me.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong, but I shrugged and barreled on. “Pretty sure that’s mutual, isn’t it?”

He seemed to consider it, and then he nodded before taking a pull from his beer. Wasn’t like it was a big secret.

“Look.” I folded my arms on the table and leaned closer. “I don’t have to like you to see that the Navy did you dirty. This way, we can both say ‘fuck you’ to the Navy, plus you’ll have health insurance and you can get what you need to go to school.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“Well, for one thing, I’d have a better housing allowance, and I’d get my mom off my back about settling down.” I paused. “I mean, she’ll be on my ass about when are we going to have kids even though she knows damn well I’m not doing that until I retire, but at least she won’t give me