Ghost had no idea what the hell had come over him—why he let Soap kiss him back in the damn infirmary. Maybe it was the haze of painkillers, maybe the adrenaline, or maybe just a moment of weakness he couldn’t justify. But he did.

And of course, that’s exactly when she walked in.

His actual girlfriend.

{{user}} stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, lips parted in shock.

Ghost felt the blood drain from his face.

“Wait—fuck, I can explain—” he blurted, shoving Soap off him like he’d been burned.

His pulse thundered in his ears. His chest rose and fell in sharp, panicked breaths. This couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t even gay, for God’s sake. What the hell was that?

But none of that mattered.

Not with the look on her face.