Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
But I won’t do that, because now that I’ve had her, staying away from this little rebel is out of the question.
“We’ll move your things into my bedroom tonight.”
Her hand pauses halfway to her mouth, and she stares at me with surprised lavender eyes. “We will?”
“Fuck yes.”
“So that wasn’t just things you said in the heat of the moment?”
I lean on the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “I meant every word I said. You’ll be sleeping in my bed, baby.”
“What else will change?”
I tip my head to the side. “We’re still training together every day.”
“Even the obstacle course?”
I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face, and her eyes narrow menacingly.
“I see that you enjoy torture.”
No. Been there, done that, and I do not enjoy torture.
“That’s not what it is. It’s training. You’ll get stronger, your reflexes will get faster.”
“I’ll fall on my ass and maybe break a leg.” She pops a chip in her mouth. “Fun times. You must enjoy all this.”
“I live for it.” I grin at her and reach over to brush her soft hair behind her ear. “But I know that it’s not for everyone. For every ten new recruits I get for each session, thirty to fifty percent drop out before it’s done.”
She blinks rapidly at that, taking it in. “Holy shit, Gideon. I hope that’s not on your brochure. I don’t think it’s a strong selling point.”
“I don’t need brochures. I have a two-year waiting list.”
Her smile grows, and I want to lean down and kiss her.
So I do. I cup the side of her neck and jawline and kiss her before letting her go and crossing to the fridge to grab us some waters.
“And your leg really doesn’t bother you?”
I pause at her question. Normally, I would brush it off and change the subject, but things have shifted with her, and she deserves the truth.
She lifts an eyebrow, waiting for my response.
“I have moments,” I concede, “when it acts up. Usually if I’ve pushed myself too hard. It gets sore and needs some ice. It’s why I couldn’t go back to active duty and return to your detail, and I worked like crazy for a year to get it back. I’ll never be a hundred percent, and in order to protect the president and their family, you have to be better than a hundred percent.”
She frowns down at her burrito.
“It pissed me off that no one would tell me if you were okay,” she says softly. “I wasn’t allowed to see you, or talk to you, but the worst was, no one would even tell me that you survived.”
She swallows hard, and I cup her head, kiss the top of her hair, and then pull her into my chest and hug her close.
“Finally, after a horrible week, I marched into Mom’s office and said I wouldn’t leave unless she told me. I threatened to go to the press. I threatened a lot of stuff.”
“You threatened the president of the United States, Rebel?”
“No, I demanded that my mother fucking talk to me.” She pulls back enough to look up at me. “Because yeah, she’s the president, but she’s also my mom. And her motherly moments are few and far between, but I’m pretty sure seeing me hysterical gave her one of those moments.”
“What did she say?” Using my pinkie, I gently nudge her hair back from her face, enjoying the way she feels against me.
“Just that you lived. That’s all. I got no details, and it was made clear to me that I wouldn’t get any more information. I was to keep my mouth shut about the whole ordeal and go back to my life.”
I scowl down at her. “Wait. You didn’t even get any therapy?”
She snorts and shakes her head. “I mean, sure, there are probably therapists with top security clearance, but no. I was told to suck it up and get on with it.”
The anger that moves through me is confusing because I’ve been trained to follow orders without question. If you question, you can get hurt. You can die.
But this is wrong.
After everything Lena went through, the answer was to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened?
“What are your nightmares about, Rebel?”
Her eyes dip to my chest, and I take her chin, nudging her face up to look at me once more.
“You,” she whispers. “It just plays over and over again. Sometimes you die. In the truck today—”
She shakes her head, unable to finish the thought, and I pull her in once more, holding her tight.
“I didn’t die.”
“I know.” She wipes at a tear but doesn’t pull away from me. “I always liked you. Not the way I do now, because I was too young and, well . . .”
“I get it.”
“But I liked trying to get you to smile, because you’re always so serious, and out of all my guys, you made me feel the safest.”