Chapter 7 #2
“Well, that actually makes sense,” Lainey said, her words slow at first, and then picking up speed as she continued. “You train incredibly hard. From what you told me, you’ve sort of been training like this since you were little, right?”
“Right,” I said on a slight delay as I realized it was actually something wrong with me. And, once again, it all stemmed from the way I’d been raised.
“Mallory,” Lainey began a little uncertainly, then shared a quick look with Chloe, “I think it’s great that you’re here, and I honestly hope you come around more often—to see me, not just Asher and the rest of the guys. But I feel like you’re here for a reason.”
Chloe hummed in agreement, her head bobbing as she studied me.
Lainey gave me a shaky look of encouragement, considering she looked like she was a soft breeze from falling over. “We’re here for you . . . whatever you need.”
“Whenever,” Chloe added with a more decisive nod.
“Whenever,” Lainey echoed softly.
I worked my jaw as I considered their words and understanding, except I still didn’t know what I’d wanted or expected out of this time with them.
The life I’d always known—the foundation of who I was—had been thoroughly rocked, yes, but that was something I would deal with.
And as much as I wanted to lay it all out so Gray could help me wade through it, that was no longer an option for us.
Because, of course, there was also Gray . . .
Gray, who had floored me.
Gray, who had confused me.
Gray, who had made me doubt everything.
Gray, who had still hurt me for years.
I stilled as everything pieced together embarrassingly quickly.
I hadn’t come here for girl talk or company or to share all the things I only wanted to share with one person. I’d come here because I’d wanted help. I’d come here because of Gray.
He’d continuously thrown me off-balance with his confessions today. Like this morning, I’d found my traitorous heart falling all over itself outside the coffee shop, wanting to believe everything he was saying, only for too many years of painful evidence to rush up and reinforce my crumbling walls.
But even with those unstable shields in place, I couldn’t help but replay his words again and again and again.
I couldn’t help but want them to be true.
I couldn’t help but think they could’ve been true, if I hadn’t been molded into an emotion-suppressing, instrument of war, from the time I could walk.
That was what had pushed me to ask Chloe if I could come here.
Because I’d only ever been jealous of the women Gray had hit on in front of me.
I’d never been insecure until realizing they’d all looked and acted a certain way, and I .
. . well, didn’t. And, as I couldn’t help but notice every time I saw her, Chloe was my exact opposite.
Lainey had similar physical features as me, but there was a distinct difference between us.
For half a second, I considered telling them, “Thanks, but I’m good,” and keeping my lack of confidence to myself, before I found myself blurting out, “How do you make yourselves pretty? And feminine?”
If I kept getting these stunned looks from them, I honestly might develop some kind of complex.
“Wait, what?” Chloe was the first one to ask.
My earlier desire to leave was nothing like my desire now. Before, it was because I was sure I’d made a mistake in coming, and this wasn’t at all in my comfort zone. Now, it was because I wanted to crawl in a hole and never emerge.
However, I still firmly believed in fighting over fleeing.
So, I swallowed the embarrassment nearly choking me, steeled my spine, and nodded toward her. “You know, with your . . .”—I gestured to my face—“your makeup and hair. The way you dress. How do I do that?”
The two of them stared in open-mouthed shock before sharing a long look with each other.
A disbelieving huff burst from Chloe as she slowly glanced my way again, but it was Lainey who spoke, slow and careful.
“I’m not sure if this is a prank or not.
” When I just stared the two of them down, gripping my hands tightly together to keep myself in place, she added, “You do realize how stunning you are, right?”
I hadn’t realized I’d broken my rigid form, letting my knee bounce, until it abruptly stopped at her question.
“Like, beyond,” Chloe said as if she wasn’t sure how that wasn’t common knowledge, before her next words came tumbling out. “You’re like Assassin Barbie. Do you know how intimidating you are? Not only do you look like a supermodel, but you somehow strut an invisible catwalk in combat boots—”
“Tactical boots,” I corrected, and she waved her drink-free hand through the air.
“Right, those too,” she said as if it made no difference to her. “But every time you walk by on your invisible catwalk, it’s like watching a supermodel who’ll kill someone if they look at her wrong.”
“Deadly Duo,” Lainey mumbled, and Chloe pointed at her in agreement.
I glanced between the two. “You said I strut, look like I’ll kill someone, and compared me to both a supermodel and Barbie—which, I hate the latter. What part of those four things is the duo?”
“You and Hudson,” Lainey informed me with a wry grin as she lifted the cup to her mouth, as if she hadn’t just knocked the oxygen from my lungs with something as simple as pairing me up with Gray.
With a little shrug, she added, “The two of you both look like supermodel assassins. I’ve been calling y’all that since the time Asher tasked y’all with babysitting me.”
“And how can you hate Barbie?” Chloe interjected. “She’s Barbie. I mean, sure, the doll sets insanely unrealistic body image goals for girls, but she’s literal perfection, which means you are literal perfection.”
My brow furrowed in disbelief. “I hate Barbie because people have called me that throughout my life in an attempt to prove I didn’t belong,” I pointedly responded.
“Or because you literally look like the human version of Barbie,” she added with wide eyes, as if she wasn’t sure how I didn’t see it.
Except, I had a lifetime of memories that proved otherwise.
I tried shrugging off the arm that draped heavily over my shoulder, then jammed my elbow into the ribs of the SEAL beside me when he only curled his arm tighter. An action that had unwanted memories with the same man rushing to the surface.
As if I needed the memories.
His crushing grip and forceful, almost punishing kiss—as unexpected as it had been unwelcomed—made my stomach churn whenever he’d been mentioned or I’d caught sight of him over the past week and a half.
His overpowering cologne had continued haunting me, like he’d been around each corner, waiting to catch me off-guard again.
You would’ve thought laying him out and knocking him unconscious would’ve been warning enough to stay away from me.
You would’ve thought knowing I could easily take him down would’ve comforted me, but the confident way he wrapped his arm around me then had an unfamiliar feeling weaving through my rage—something almost like panic.
And then he spoke, and all thoughts of what he might try again were abruptly replaced with every insecurity.
“See there, Ice Barbie? That’s what a woman looks like.
Can you say woman?” He cast a vicious smirk my way before nodding in the direction of the scantily clad women standing by the bar we’d just walked into.
“Maybe they’ll give you tips on how to .
. .”—he made a face that bordered on pity, but did nothing to cover his rage, as he gave me a once over—“well . . . not be this.”
Gray appeared out of nowhere and threw the guy back a few feet before I had the chance to jam the heel of my palm into his throat.
And while his familiar, comforting presence by my side was enough to keep the other SEAL from approaching me again, Gray’s attention drifted from me almost as soon as he acknowledged me.
And not an hour later, I watched Gray leave the bar with one of those same women.
“Everything Chloe said,” Lainey softly added, forcing away the memory as she gestured to Chloe with her cup. “But if you hate the Barbie reference, then you hate it. Doesn’t change that you’re easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in real life.”
“And there’s nothing about you that doesn’t say feminine,” Chloe added before tilting her head and amending, “Except maybe the boots. But I actually like them. It matches the assassin vibe.”
Lainey nodded in agreement.
From their expressions to the way they’d quickly rambled and agreed with each other, as if they’d had this conversation before, there wasn’t anything that made me think they were lying.
Still, I didn’t believe them. A lifetime of trying to fit into a man’s world made it hard to.
Over a decade of Gray looking everywhere but at me made it impossible to.
“Okay, but if I wanted to dress . . . differently?” I began hesitantly, making sure I didn’t give anything else away. “Look different?”
Chloe nodded as if she understood, but her voice still came out uncharacteristically soft and gentle when she said, “If you want to change your style because you’re tired of it, of course we’ll help you, but you should know first that you don’t need to.”
“Right,” Lainey whispered as her friend continued in a tone that was more like her usual bubbliness.
“I honestly had no idea until this conversation that you didn’t wear makeup. You do realize women wear makeup in an effort to look like you? And that’s natural?” Chloe dramatically dropped her head to the back of the couch, a laugh leaving her as if she couldn’t understand it.
“What’s brought this on?” Lainey asked as her own disbelieving laugh ended, her expression open as if she knew it was something so much more than just me wanting to change my style.
Instead of laying out the entire thing for them, I gave them the only truth I could. “I just want to stop looking like one of the guys.”
Lainey and Chloe shared a glance before they both burst into laughter, making my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
Lainey recovered first, but that could’ve been because a wave of nausea clearly swept over her from the way her hand went to her mouth and her face paled dramatically.
“You okay?” Chloe asked, quickly setting her cup on the coffee table and placing one foot on the floor as she reached for Lainey.
Lainey gave an unsteady nod before offering us a weary smile as she gestured for Chloe to respond to me.
After watching Lainey for a few seconds longer, Chloe sat back on the couch with a worried sigh, then gave me a pointed onceover. “You do not look like one of the guys.”
I glanced at my workout outfit. “I was at the gym before my meeting with Briggs.”
“Not just today,” she added with a raised brow to drive her point home.
Lainey’s voice was weak when she teased, “I might pay to see one of the guys in skinny jeans.”
A bright laugh left Chloe. “Can you imagine?” she asked before making a face, as if she wasn’t sure that was an image she wanted in her head, then turned her attention on me again.
“I’ll say it again, if you want to change your style, we’ll help.
But from this conversation, I think it’s super obvious you don’t see yourself clearly.
Like, at all. And maybe it’s because you’ve always been in a male-dominated field, or maybe it’s that someone”—she said the word as if she knew exactly who that someone could be—“shattered your confidence.”
“If that’s the case,” Lainey picked up for her, “that shouldn’t be the reason you change.”
“It isn’t,” I lied.
Neither of them looked like they believed me, but Chloe warily said, “Then we’d love to help.”
My head bobbed for a handful of seconds before I asked, “How soon?”