NINE #2
Heat climbed her throat. Damn traitorous body. She never did find out what horrible ancestor gave her the ability to blush. But she suspected it was her Puerto Rican father’s side because Ukrainians were too stoic to bother with blushing.
Of course Jolie noticed. Her eyes sparkled. “He was really close to you.”
The memory hit hard enough to make her grip the edge of the bench.
When Rome stepped into her space, bringing the scent of soap and mountain air that always seemed to cling to him…she battled not to throw herself at him.
When his voice scraped with stomach-flipping roughness into her ear…her insides clutched with want.
Then came that promise. The warning.
Only I get to taste your sweetness, Stina.
Her pussy squeezed hard at the mind-spinning memory of his mouth on that body part, and the gasping orgasm he’d given her with his tongue.
A shiver worked its way down her spine even as she was mortified that her friend might have heard him say that.
Jolie’s eyes widened. “Ohh. I see.”
“Don’t start, Jolie.”
“That’s interesting.”
Stina groaned and dropped her head back. The ceiling offered no answers. Neither did the knot currently living in her core.
Jolie settled beside her on the bench. “What’s going on with Rome, Stina?”
The question lingered between them. For a moment, Stina considered lying. Then she remembered who she was talking to. Jolie would see through it in about three seconds.
“It just kind of…happened.”
Jolie waited.
“We kept fighting,” Stina admitted. “Every conversation turned into an argument. Every argument turned into another argument. Then I was arguing with him about how he treated me when he interrogated me about that guy at the restaurant. The next thing I knew…” She stopped and rubbed her face. “I don’t even know how it happened.”
But it was so damn good.
A smile tugged at Jolie’s mouth. “Fight or fuck.”
Oh god. She was right. She’d never personally experienced the phenomenon—she only wanted to hit her boyfriends with a frying pan when they fought.
Despite herself, Stina laughed, but the sound faded quickly because the truth sat right behind it.
She stared at the floor. “Now I can’t quit thinking about him.”
The confession came out quieter than she’d intended—and way too honest.
Jolie didn’t speak right away, and her silence wasn’t helping matters.
Stina looked over. Her friend was watching her with an expression that settled somewhere between concern and understanding.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Stina admitted.
“Nothing’s wrong with you.”
“Yes, there is. How many times have you told me I have terrible taste in men?” She closed her eyes and opened them again to see Jolie’s smile hadn’t faded.
“It’s true that you haven’t had any healthy relationships.”
“This isn’t a relationship. It’s just two people hooking up. Two people scratching an itch.”
Jolie cocked a shapely eyebrow. It was irritating enough that she never had to tweeze them into that shape, while Stina had to wax and torture hers into looking feminine and refined.
But the longer Jolie remained quiet, the more Stina’s mind lingered around the memory of Rome’s—Jack’s—hands on her.
And the fact that she’d spent the majority of her time wondering where he was and if she’d run into him.
“He drives me crazy,” she muttered. “One minute he can’t get close enough to me.” Stina stared at the floor. “The next he’s barking orders and acting like none of it happened.”
“Because he’s scared.”
“Or because he regrets it.”
Jolie’s smile softened. “Sometimes people fight because they’re trying to create distance.”
“Distance?”
“Yeah. If you’re attracted to somebody and they scare you a little, arguing is easier. Anger feels safer than vulnerability.”
Stina immediately pointed at her. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not analyzing me with your new psycho-babble. You’ve only taken how many weeks of classes? You’re not a shrink yet. Rome and I argue because he’s bossy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And controlling.”
“Sure.”
“And impossible.”
“Interesting how none of those things stopped you from sleeping with him.”
Stina dragged in a deep breath, fighting for solid ground when so far, everything Jolie said felt right.
“Maybe it could be more if I ever saw the version of Rome that you told me about. I get the grumpy authoritarian Rome.”
Jolie laughed. “I think you definitely bring out a different side of him. The problem is Rome doesn’t really see a future.”
Stina frowned and set her water bottle on the floor beside the bench. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’s Blackout.” Jolie shrugged like that explained everything.
It didn’t. At least not to her.
Seeing the confusion on her face, Jolie continued. “These guys live differently. Duty comes first. When they join Blackout, they accept that they can’t have girlfriends, wives, families.”
Stina stared at her. “What about you and Archer?”
“From what he’s told me, some of the other teams have broken those rules and managed to get away with it, so he was willing to try.”
She ingested that for a moment.
Jolie went on, “They spend every minute running toward things normal people spend their lives trying to avoid. They don’t make plans because they’ve learned life can change in a second.”
Stina stared across the gym. The explanation settled heavily in her chest because, if she was honest, she wasn’t sure how there could be a future for them either.
Not when she didn’t know how long she’d be staying here.
Not when her entire life existed somewhere above her while she hid beneath a ski resort.
Not when somebody wanted her dead.
Before she could unravel the messy thoughts, the gym door opened.
Both of them looked up. One of the guys stepped inside carrying a tablet. “I’m looking for Rome.”
Stina’s stomach tingled. “He’s not in here.”
Jolie looked at him. “Not here, Odin.”
O’s gaze shifted to her. “Nice try.”
“Opie?”
His expression didn’t change.
Stina laughed.
Jolie had already explained the ongoing mystery surrounding O’s real name. Apparently nobody knew it. Or if they did, they guarded it better than government secrets.
“Worth a shot.” Jolie shrugged.
He glanced between them.
Stina straightened. “What’s wrong?”
He crossed the room and stopped in front of Stina. When he held out the tablet, her stomach wobbled.
“I finished cleaning up the image.”
Stina accepted the tablet.
The face on the screen hit her like a punch.
The restaurant came rushing back immediately. The weird voice. The pizza. The shouting. The humiliation of standing there while everyone stared.
Her stomach tightened. Her thumb tightened against the edge of the tablet. “That’s him,” she breathed.
O’s expression hardened.
“Who?” Jolie jumped up to see.
“That’s the man I dumped pizza on.”
No one spoke.
Jolie leaned in closer and studied the image for several seconds before straightening. “It is the man you dumped pizza on. But…”
Stina looked at her. “What is it?”
“I kind of…expected it to be the guy who kidnapped me.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her middle. “But it’s not.”
The words seemed to suck all the air from the room. This meeting was supposed to answer a question. Instead, it raised another one.
Stina looked back at the face on the screen.
Slowly, she lowered the tablet and looked between O and Jolie.
“How many guys are there?”