Chapter 40
“I hate to interrupt,” Kallister says, poking his head into the office. “But I’ve been called to the war room.” He gestures to the tablet in my hands. “The rest will have to wait.”
Disappointment lodges inside my chest. Shit. This was just getting good. I’ve finally started reading my mother’s interrogation, and I regret not doing it sooner. It’s by far the most fascinating document in her file.
Somehow, our weekly meetings in his quarters have gone completely undetected. Gray commented on it only once, and I told him Kallister and I like to talk about Jim. It’s not entirely a lie. We do talk about Uncle Jim, but I spend the bulk of my time poring over my mother’s file.
Stepping into the hallway, I get a message from Mako that brings a smile to my lips.
Want to punch some bags, Wrenny?
I head downstairs to the gym, but when I walk in, I don’t expect to find Gray and Saint sparring. My pulse speeds up. I’ve been avoiding Gray for the past few days, and now here he is.
I don’t mean to, but I find myself staring. I’m fixated on the two guys. They’re bare-knuckle, barefoot, and gleaming with sweat. Gray’s hair is sweaty, too. He pushes it away from his forehead, emphasizing his handsome features.
“Too slow,” he taunts as he ducks out of Saint’s punch.
As always, his face dances with mischief. I don’t think it’s possible for this man to ever be sad about something. I’ve seen him angry, but even that doesn’t last. His temper is like a flash downpour, gone before it even soaks the ground.
He bounces on the balls of his feet, then releases a quick jab that Saint manages to twist out of at the last second.
“Who you calling slow?” Saint calls back. He lunges and manages to land an uppercut that makes Gray grunt.
“Nice,” he says, even as he wipes his mouth where blood is beginning to trickle.
They’re both light on their feet. I watch, admiring the way they move. It’s a lot more cordial than Cross’s fight with Xavier in the pit on the Command base, when they nearly beat each other to death and then laughed about it as if it’s a normal thing friends do.
“Wrenny.” Mako pops up behind me.
The sparring match ends, and both guys finally glance in our direction. My gaze locks with Gray. He stares back, half mocking, half amused. Then he unscrews the cap of a metal water bottle and takes a deep swig.
Mako and I work out for a while, hitting the punching bags.
He offers to spar with me himself, but I’m not interested in getting crushed by his mountainous body, so I assure him I’m fine sticking to the bags.
The entire time, he talks my ear off, mostly about nonsense, but he does mention there’s a party tonight in the cave.
There are always parties at the Dagger, probably because there isn’t much to do the majority of the time.
It’s their way of letting off steam, like the Command’s pit nights.
Later, I end up going to the party with Mako, who picks up the conversation as if it never stopped. This time, as he chatters away in a never-ending stream of words, I can hardly hear him over the loud music. It’s better that way. Most of what he says doesn’t make much sense.
As a pounding electronic bass line pulses in the cave walls, I adjust the front of my low-cut tank and survey the shadowy chamber. I only came tonight to prove that I’m unbothered by the accusations Gray lobbed at me the other night. I’m not jealous of Karra. He can make out with whoever he wants.
My mood brightens when I spot Tana among the crowd of dancers. I’m two seconds from joining her when I realize she’s not alone. She and Luisa are lost in their own world as they dance, their bodies flush, eyes locked on each other.
I sip from a bottle of glenshade, startled when Adrienne wanders over and stands beside me. Rather than try to shout over the music like Mako, she speaks into my mind instead.
“How is everything, Darlington? We haven’t spoken in a while.”
I shrug and take another sip. “All good.”
“You feeling more settled at the Dagger? I know Ford’s gone, but you seem to have found your footing with everyone, no?”
“I think so. Evlynne doesn’t glare at me as often as she used to.”
“Not stranding you on any mountains?”
“She didn’t do that.”
Adrienne gives me a look. She knows I’m not being truthful. And Mako knows we’re communicating, because her veins are rippling and we’re both ignoring him.
“Why do women always forget I’m here?” he cries dramatically.
As he stomps off, I glance at Adrienne. “Any update on the ally search? Tierra Fe?”
“I don’t come down here to talk about business,” is her dismissive response, and then she saunters off and I lose sight of her in the crowd. Mako has disappeared, too, I assume to lick his wounds over being left out of the conversation.
I seek out Tana again, hiding a smile when I spot her and Luisa tucked away in the shadows, kissing. This pleases me greatly. Seeing her so distraught that day in the valley had been gut wrenching. I just want her to be happy.
My peripheral vision catches movement before Saint slides into the space beside me.
I feel his eyes boring into the side of my face, so I turn, greeting him with a nod. He nods back. I don’t expect much else from him. He’s not a talker, and that’s part of his appeal. Women are clamoring to know him, but he’s elusive. He doesn’t want you to know him.
I’m not trying to flirt. In fact, I don’t even know what compels me to reach for his hand. Despite the surprised flicker on his face, he allows me to link telepathically when I nudge his mind.
“Dance with me.”
He doesn’t protest. His hands lower to my waist, gripping loosely, his body moving closer. I move with him, trying to lose myself in the music. He smells like fire and spice. We move closer and closer until I’m practically pasted against him.
And still he doesn’t speak. Neither silently nor out loud. His breath tickles my neck as he buries his face there, and I can see why the women at the Dagger fall all over him. His presence is distracting.
The beat changes, slowing. Saint thrusts one thigh between my legs, backing me into the cave wall.
We’re not really dancing anymore. We’re sort of standing there, tangled with each other.
I inhale deeply, shivering when I feel his lips graze the side of my neck.
It’s not quite a kiss. More like a caress. A tease.
His hands slide over my ass, another teasing touch. He lifts his head, our gazes locking before my eyes drop to his lips.
I’m debating whether I should kiss him when a thought settles over me. A truth I can’t fight.
He’s not the one I want to kiss.
My hands tremble around Saint’s neck.
I need to find Gray.
“Sorry,” I say, my hands dropping from his body. “I have to go.”
Saint doesn’t protest. He merely steps away from me. His lips reveal a trace of a smirk, as if he knows exactly where I’m going.
Five minutes later, I stand in front of his quarters, paralyzed with indecision. My hand hovers, wanting to knock, but also not. I feel too exposed under the fluorescent lights in the corridor.
What the hell am I doing?
Clarity slices into me like a bolt of lightning. What is wrong with me? He has a girl. Doesn’t matter if it’s not serious, or if Karra likes to step out. They’re still together and I have no right to be here.
Better to keep it simple. Friendship. The simplest thing of all.
Shaking my head to chastise myself, I turn to leave—just as the door swings open.
Gray’s eyes widen to find me there. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I blurt out. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m—”
“I was just coming to find you,” he cuts in, his voice gruff.
I falter. “You were?”
Without a word, he steps back into his quarters and holds the door open for me.
I hesitate only for a moment before walking in. He shuts the door behind me, and the air suddenly feels thicker, making it hard to breathe.
I take in the sight of him. He’s in loose pants. A white T-shirt. His blond hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it.
“Can I start?” I say awkwardly.
He nods.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry about the way I spoke to Karra. It was out of line. I apologized to her again this morning.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
“But I also owe you an apology,” I say, looking anywhere but at him. My feet. The wall. A spot over his head. “I thought you were full of yourself when you accused me of being jealous.” I finally meet his eyes. “You weren’t being presumptuous. I was jealous.”
He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“I know I have no right to be jealous. It sort of snuck up on me, that I might…” I trail off.
“Might what?”
“That I might, ah, have feelings for you.”
He doesn’t say a word. I can’t read him at all, and it makes me nervous.
“But don’t worry,” I hastily add. “I’ll do my best to get over it.”
He raises a brow.
“I would never steal someone’s man. I don’t plan to steal you.”
He’s trying really hard not to laugh now. “I appreciate that.”
“I promise. I’m not the kind of person who would ever do that. In fact, I shouldn’t have said a word about it. But I didn’t want you to think I was just being a quat to your girl for no rea—”
“She’s not my girl.”
I stop talking. “What?”
“I broke up with Karra tonight.”