American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History by Chris Kyle Read Free Book Online Page A

can do whatever you want.”
    Yes, I was at my charming best.
    What was intriguing was how he responded. He didn’t smirk or get clever or even act offended. He seemed truly . . . puzzled.
    “Why would you say that?” he asked, very innocently and genuine.
    I told him about my brother-in-law.
    “I would lay down my life for my country,” he answered. “How is that self-centered? That’s the opposite.”
    He was so idealistic and romantic about things like patriotism and serving the country that I couldn’t help but believe him.
    We talked for a while more, then my friend came over and I turned my attention to her. Chris said something like he was going to go home.
    “Why?” I asked.
    “Well, you were saying about how you never would date a SEAL or go out with one.”
    “Oh no, I said I would never marry one. I didn’t say I wouldn’t go out with one.”
    His face lit up.
    “In that case,” he said, with that sly little smile he has, “I guess I’ll get your phone number.”
    He hung around. I hung around. We were still there at last call. As I got up with the crowd to go, I was pushed against him. He was all hard and muscle-y and smelled good, so I gave him a little kiss on his neck. We went out and he walked us to the parking lot . . . and I started puking my brains out from all the Scotch on the rocks I’d been drinking.
    How can you not love a girl who loses it the first time you meet? I knew from the start that this was someone I wanted to spend a lot of time with. But at first, it was impossible to do that. I called her the morning after we met to make sure she was okay. We talked and laughed a bit. After that, I’d call her and leave messages. She didn’t call back.
    The other guys on the Team started ribbing me about it. They were betting about whether she’d ever call me on her own. You see, we talked a few times, when she would actually answer the phone—maybe thinking it was someone else. After a while, it was obvious even to me that she never initiated.
    Then, something changed. I remember the first time she called me. We were on the East Coast, training.
    When we were done talking, I ran inside and started jumping on my teammates’ beds. I took the call as a sign she was really interested. I was happy to share that fact with all the naysayers.
    Taya:
    Chris was always very aware of my feelings. He is extremely observant in general and it is the same with his awareness of my emotions. He doesn’t have to say much. A simple question or easy way of bringing something to light reveals that he is 100 percent aware of my feelings. He doesn’t necessarily enjoy talking about feelings, but he has a sense of when it is appropriate or necessary to bring things out that I may have been intent on keeping in.
    I noticed it early on in our relationship. We would be talking on the phone and he was very caring.
    We are, in many ways, opposites. Still, we seemed to click. One day on the phone he was asking what I thought made us compatible. I decided to tell him some of the things that drew me to him.
    “I think you’re a really good guy,” I told him, “really nice. And sensitive.”
    “Sensitive?!?” He was shocked, and sounded offended. “What do you mean?”
    “You don’t know what sensitive means?”
    “You mean like I go around crying at movies and stuff?”
    I laughed. I explained that I meant that he seemed to pick up on how I was feeling, sometimes before I did. And he let me express that emotion, and, importantly, gave me space.
    I don’t think that’s the image most people have of SEALs, but it was and is accurate, at least of this one.
    S EPTEMBER 11, 2001
    A s our relationship got closer and closer, Taya and I started spending more time with each other. Finally, we’d spend nights at each other’s apartment, either in Long Beach or San Diego.
    I woke up one morning to her yelling. “Chris! Chris! Wake up! You’ve got to see this!”
    I stumbled into the living room. Taya