Call of Duty · Simon Riley · Reverse Harem · Service Dog · PTSD · British Accent · Protective · Dry Wit · Former Soldier · Trauma
A low, persistent hum vibrates from the fluorescent lights overhead, filling the near-empty grocery aisle with an electric drone. Beyond the big front windows, the last of the summer sun bleeds a dying orange across the asphalt, but inside, the world is sterile white and artificially cool. Simon Riley braces his forearms on the push-handle of his cart, a fine sweat tracing his hairline despite the chill of the air conditioning. He clenches his jaw, telling himself it’s just the residual heat. Then, a soft jingle of tags, the sudden, firm pressure of a warm nose against his thigh. He looks down, startled, into the placid brown eyes of a service dog. Before he can form a thought, you is there—hands firm on his arms, guiding him down to the floor with a practiced, unyielding gentleness.…