Free What You Do to Me (A Breathe Epilogue) by Sloan Parker

What You Do to Me
    (A Breathe Epilogue)
    Jay glanced up from the open book lying on the kitchen table before him and checked the time on the clock above the stove. Two a.m. He really needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was set to be a busy day.
    Just one more section, and then he’d put the book away.
    The next exam for his History of World War II class was in a week, and he didn’t want to ruin his A average. If he could keep it up for the rest of the term, he might be able to get more financial assistance next time around. As it stood now, he and Lincoln were working their asses off to pay for his tuition, their rent, and their lingering hospital bills.
    Not that Jay wanted it any other way.
    They were building a new life for themselves. Together.
    He returned to his reading. The next section was titled D-day: Letters Home . The first page included a photocopy of a handwritten letter by a young paratrooper from the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division. The letter to his fiancée was dated June 5, 1944, the day before the Invasion of Normandy.
    He told her nothing of the war, where he was located, or for what he was most likely preparing. Instead he wrote about what he wanted their future together to be like. He described buying a home in the rural farmlands of Wisconsin, spending their nights together on a porch swing watching the sun set over the sea of rolling hay fields, dancing under a blanket of stars, growing old together.
    Alongside the letter was a colorized portrait of the man in his paratrooper uniform. He had a full head of red hair, trimmed short, a wide smile, and one crooked front tooth. He looked innocent and barely sixteen.
    Below the letter was a notation that read Private Arthur Roberts died on June 6, 1944 during Operation Neptune at the Invasion of Normandy. He was killed in midair during the paratroopers’ descent into France, having never seen Wisconsin or his fiancée again.
    Sadness for the young man who hadn’t had a chance to live the life he’d hoped for overcame Jay. He set the book down and removed his glasses, the sadness turning to relief at how very lucky he was in his own life. Not many people got the kind of second chance he’d been given.
    He went to the kitchen sink and filled a glass with water. The ancient pipes behind the walls rattled. He switched off the faucet before the clanking woke Lincoln. Their new place was in serious need of work—even more than Jay’s old house.
    He sipped the water as his thoughts returned to the young paratrooper and the unfulfilled promise of those nights with his fiancée, the Wisconsin house and farm and fields and…
    A porch swing.
    Jay stared out the window above the sink into the darkness behind the house. That was what he’d suggest for the place once they’d taken care of the basics. A swing overlooking the fenced-in backyard where they could sit alone under the night sky. He’d point out the stars and share what he knew of the Iroquois legends related to the origins of the constellations and see if Lincoln knew the same ones.
    God, Jay had never been this romantic in his life. Maybe with the passing of time came a sentimentality that the kid he’d been a few years ago could never comprehend, or maybe it was something else. Maybe whatever time he’d get to spend with Lincoln would always be special—because they’d been so close to not having any more time at all.
    An arm came around his waist, and a hand settled over his stomach. A warm, solid body pressed against his back.
    “You smell good.” Lincoln’s voice was low, and the heated air from his breath blew across Jay’s neck, sending a shiver throughout Jay’s body. He’d never get tired of this man’s touch.
    Jay tilted his head back. “You feel good.”
    Lincoln let out a little hum in response and kissed the side of Jay’s neck. “You’re studying too hard. Come to bed.”
    Jay leaned into Lincoln’s bare chest, grateful he hadn’t