Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,9

rabid conspiracy theorist, and he’d been in rare form lately. “What’s he going on about this time?”

“Ugh.” She dropped into the chair beside the camera monitors. “He thinks that virus going around is either a biological weapon from China developed with funding from Obama, or it’s basically a cold that the Democrats and the media are going to play up in order to make the president look bad.” Rolling her eyes again, she muttered, “It must be exhausting, living in that man’s head.”

I laughed dryly. “No kidding. I’d say I can’t imagine anyone being that gullible, but then I remember he’s a chief, and…” I shrugged.

“Ooh, burn.”

We exchanged glances and both laughed. I tried to stay somewhat professional with Sailors who worked for me, but behind closed doors and out of anyone else’s earshot, Colby and I both relaxed a bit and snarked in ways we didn’t dare around other people. We’d entertained ourselves for hours speculating about how some of our upper chain of command had ever made rank and laughing our heads off over Chief’s painful gullibility.

A message on Tinder pulled my focus back to my phone. I’d been chatting off and on with a ridiculously hot guy for over a month now, and our work schedules had made hooking up a logistical nightmare, but they were finally starting to line up. Thank God. This was a guy I’d have screwed in a heartbeat even if I wasn’t trying to avoid going home to my sort-of-husband.

Earlier, I’d asked, You game to meet? I’ve got the next three days off.

Now, half an hour later, he’d finally responded:

I want to, but not gonna lie, this pandemic shit is freaking me out.

I closed my eyes and muttered, “Dammit.”

“Hmm?” Colby eyed me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” I put the phone facedown and pushed it away. “Just another Facebook friend who’s on the same conspiracy wagon as Chief about the virus.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Seems like everybody has a few of those on social media.”

“You’re not wrong.”

And God, I wished I could tell her the real reason I was annoyed. The thing was, I did think the virus was something to take seriously. It was just frustrating and unsettling to see its effects creeping into real life. It was one thing to see it on the news. It was another when I was starting to see people on social media asking for prayers for friends or family who were infected. It was eerily close to home and unnervingly real when precautions went from things I saw other people doing on Facebook and in the news to real-life effects, like canceled Tinder dates and the lines that were being taped on the floor at the grocery store to keep people six feet apart. It was starting to get real, and that made me nervous.

Was it safe to meet someone? It had to be. The military would have us all on restriction if things escalated. It wasn’t that I thought the military actually gave a shit about any of us, but having a bunch of us get sick would screw operational readiness. If this thing was bad, the Navy would flat-out forbid us from going out. So far, even the big bases in heavily populated areas hadn’t taken any action like that aside from the ones in Italy, where the virus was spreading like wildfire.

So yeah, at least for now, it was safe to meet someone.

Thank God, because I seriously wanted to be someplace other than my own house tonight. And any night, for that matter. Especially while Tristan’s hours kept getting reduced. All I needed was someone who was still willing to hook up.

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. This was exhausting, negotiating with the universe and weighing the safety of going out to get laid instead of going home to the man I’d married. Maybe it made me a selfish ass—in fact, it probably did—but I resented Tristan and I regretted the arrangement we’d made. In the moment, it had seemed like a good idea. It would help him get on his feet post-Navy, it would get my mom off my back about settling down, and it would assuage my guilty conscience.

In those respects, we’d succeeded. Tristan had health insurance through the Navy, and he was enrolled in an online degree program at a solid university. My mom was satisfied that my days of being unattached were over, and at least for now, she patiently accepted that “we’re saving money to adopt later” (which