Chapter 7 #2
Brenda blinked. The cameraman zoomed in. Mila let out a soft gasp.
"So it’s serious?" Brenda asked, sensing blood in the water. "Are we hearing wedding bells before the draft?"
"You’re hearing that we would like to eat our pasta in peace," I said coldly. "Turn the camera off, Brenda. Or I call security."
Brenda laughed nervously, but she signaled the guy to cut. "Alright, alright. Off the record. Cute couple. You look good together. dangerous."
She winked and walked away.
The silence in the booth was deafening.
Mila stared at me. Her eyes were huge. Her hand was still locked in mine.
"You..." she stammered. "You just told the news I’m the reason you’re focused."
"It’s the truth," I said, picking up my fork with my left hand because I refused to let go of her with my right.
"Theo," she whispered. "That’s going to be everywhere tomorrow. My father… the scouts…"
"Let them talk," I repeated my mantra. "We are a united front. If they think you are my strength, they won't try to use you as my weakness."
Mila looked at our joined hands. A slow flush rose on her cheeks.
"United front," she echoed. She squeezed my hand back. "I like the sound of that."
We ate the rest of the meal one-handed. It was awkward. It was impractical.
It was perfect.
The drive back to the Fortress was quiet, but it wasn't the empty silence of before. It was a heavy, humid silence. The heater in the truck was blasting, but the real heat was coming from the passenger seat.
Mila was watching me. I could feel her eyes on my profile, tracing the line of my jaw, the scar on my brow.
"You were amazing back there," she said softly as I turned onto the gravel road leading to the house.
"I handled the press," I said, keeping my eyes on the snowy trees. "Standard procedure."
"No," she insisted. "You defended me. You claimed me. Nobody does that. Usually, guys try to hide me from the cameras so they don't get in trouble with their PR teams."
I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The darkness rushed in.
I turned to her.
"I am not other guys, Mila."
"I know," she breathed.
She unbuckled her seatbelt. She turned in her seat, facing me. The white fur coat had slipped off one shoulder. Her black jumpsuit was stark against her pale skin.
"Theo," she whispered. "I don't want to go inside yet. Jax is there."
"And?"
"And… I don't want to share you right now."
My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather groaned.
"Mila," I warned. "We are playing a dangerous game."
"I’m tired of playing," she said. She reached out, her hand landing on my thigh. High up. Near my hip.
Her touch burned through the denim.
"Kiss me," she commanded. "Like you did in the kitchen. But real this time. No teaching. No lessons."
I looked at her. I saw the vulnerability in her eyes—the fear that I would reject her, that I would hide behind the "rules."
I couldn't do it.
I released the steering wheel. I reached across the console, my hand tangling in the back of her hair.
"Come here," I growled.
She scrambled over the center console. It was clumsy—knees bumping gear shifts, elbows hitting the dashboard—but she didn't care. She straddled my lap, her legs framing my hips, the white coat falling into the footwell.
She was in my lap in the driver’s seat. She was so small, so soft.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against me.
"Theo," she sighed, her hands cupping my face.
I kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It was possession. It was a reclaiming of everything I had denied myself for a week. I tasted the wine on her tongue. I felt the desperate hammer of her heart against my chest.
Her hands were everywhere—in my hair, gripping my shoulders, scratching at the back of my neck. My hands roamed her back, finding the zipper of the jumpsuit.
I wanted to unzip it. I wanted to peel her out of it right here in the freezing truck and warm her with my own skin.
I groaned, biting her lower lip, soothing the sting with my tongue.
"You’re driving me insane," I rasped against her mouth. "You know that?"
"Good," she panted, grinding down on my lap. The friction was excruciating. "Go insane with me, Theo. Lose control."
Lose control.
The words were a trigger.
I gripped her hips, stilling her movements. I pulled back, gasping for air. Our foreheads rested together. The windows were completely fogged up, sealing us in a white cocoon.
"I can't," I whispered, my voice raw. "Not here. Not like this."
"Why?" she whimpered, trying to kiss me again.
"Because," I said, holding her back. "Because if we do this… if I take you… I won't stop. I won't be able to stop."
I looked into her eyes. They were black pools of desire.
"And you deserve a bed," I said. "You deserve… everything. Not a truck cab in the middle of winter."
Mila stared at me. Her chest was heaving. She looked frustrated, aching.
"You are so noble it’s annoying," she whispered.
"I’m trying to be the man you think I am," I admitted.
She softened then. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of my mouth.
"You’re better than that man," she said.
She climbed off my lap, sliding back into the passenger seat. She fixed her hair, retrieved her coat, and took a deep breath.
"Okay," she said. "We go inside. We act normal. We don't jump each other in front of Jax."
"Agreed."
"But Theo?"
"Yeah?"
She looked at me, her hand on the door handle.
"Keep the door unlocked tonight," she whispered.
She opened the door and ran into the house, leaving me sitting in the cooling truck, hard as a rock and completely, utterly terrified.
Because I knew, with absolute certainty, that if she came to my door tonight, I wouldn't send her away.
The wall had crumbled. The Tsar had fallen.
And I was pretty sure I was in love with the enemy.