Chapter Two
Alexander rolled out of bed before midday—the first time he’d managed it since being forced to leave the commandos. That had to be a positive. Yeah?
He padded into the bathroom in his boxers. He’d always been a hot sleeper. Nothing had changed there…except the nightmares. Now he frequently awakened in a pool of sweat with lingering stress. Today was no different.
Though, these days, he lived in the safe civilian world and expected female company. No, not of the sexual-satisfaction variety, unfortunately. He could really do with a good fuck, a no-strings-attached session with no names and no emotional entanglements. Purely fun, a physical release.
In theory, it sounded like the perfect solution. But it had never truly hit the spot. He’d tried—and tried and tried. What would make a difference now?
Sage.
Her name popped into his head whenever he was tempted. In the last two years, he’d pushed past his short-term-gratification urges, unable to follow through. He hadn’t been in the right place, his deep-seated emotional injuries, his previous lack of fulfillment preventing him from bringing a random woman into his bed.
And even if he had, what if he woke up to her fearful screams, him pinning her down in a daze, a knife to her throat?
His knife.
His hand.
Reliving past scary-as-fuck, seemingly real events.
He couldn’t live with himself, so he’d resorted to hermit status. But Chase, his annoying, well-meaning best mate, had used his brilliant strategic words to convince him to seek help.
After a long, hot, rejuvenating shower, he threw on a fresh pair of boxers and a T-shirt, made some breakfast and logged into his laptop at the kitchen bench.
Once he’d completed the obligatory trawl through his emails and social media, he washed the dishes and moved to the couch, propping his computer on the coffee table. He should spend some time searching for work possibilities, but he didn’t know where to start.
Could Sage exorcise his demons? Assist him to discover his new life direction? And would he still harbor unresolved feelings for her? Maybe they’d meet and it would all be different. Maybe it’d reinforce that he’d finally moved on.
Hopefully it wouldn’t set him back. He’d be a fucking idiot if he refused help from a professional who specialized in treating trauma—even if she was the girl who haunted his dreams, the girl he could never forget.
He’d sworn to stay away from her for fear it would affect his friendship with Chase. And he didn’t want to be the dodgy, creepy, older guy hitting on his best friend’s younger sister.
So he’d played the I-don’t-give-a-fuck card. But he fucking had. As soon as she’d turned sixteen, she’d gone from grating little sister to drop-dead sensual woman—a full-on horny guy’s wet dream.
His anyway.
He’d tried not to rake his eyes over her, take in her sweetness, the softness of her skin, her pure, natural beauty and almost fucked that up before he departed.
Alexander closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch before a knock on the door roused him from a nap. Jetlag still plagued him, even though he’d been back a couple of weeks, probably complicated by his PTSD. He glanced at the time on his mobile phone.
Fuck. Six p.m. already. Where had his afternoon gone? He really needed to get into a routine. Racing into the bedroom, he pulled on some sweatpants and answered the door on the second knock.
Sage.
Fuck me. Her amber eyes pierced him with their potency. He had always appreciated her beauty but…wow. Frickin’ gorgeous. A stunner.
Her long black dress and high-heeled sandals enhanced her trim figure and gave off a professional-yet-approachable vibe. She didn’t wear too much make-up, either—just enough to take the shine off her skin and emphasize her enthralling, unusual eyes. Low maintenance yet sexy. Exactly what he liked.
“Hey, Alexander.”
“Alex, please.”
She glanced down as if almost embarrassed. “You’ve always been Alexander to me. It’s just…that’s how I see you, know you.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” And he meant that. He didn’t want her stressed. In fact, his head and stomach pressurized with an almost crushing need to say sorry.
She met his gaze, the intensity almost flooring him. His emotions hadn’t been this stirred up by the sight of a woman since that last night, before he moved away.
He’d wanted to kiss her so bad, his whole body thrummed with desire. Ached. The pressure built until he thought his balls, if not his brain, would explode. He’d leaned in, her arms twined around his neck, her beautiful, innocent body pressed against his and…he couldn’t do it.
As though solidifying his decision, Chase had called his name. He couldn’t be seen kissing the guy’s sister. They’d jolted apart like they’d been caught. Thank fuck his best mate hadn’t seemed to witness what had almost happened. It wouldn’t have been fair to Sage, to him, to his friendship with Chase.
“Alexander?”
Shit. He’d zoned out, her heavenly voice yanking him from his nostalgic thoughts. He stepped back. “Come in, please.”
He led her into his living area. “Drink?”
“I’d love one.” Her intoxicating musk-rose scent wafted over him.
“Hot, cold, alcoholic?”
She sat on the two-seater lounge, a smile breaking out on her lips that reached her irresistible eyes. “A coffee would be great…if you have the good stuff. Otherwise, don’t worry”
He chuckled. “Pods okay? I have a machine.”
“Totally fine. A long black, please.”
Same as him. She used to like milk and sugar. When had that changed? He’d missed so much, yet also gained a hell of a lot, too. Life had a way of balancing everything out—or at least he hoped it would.
Alexander made their coffees, while they engaged in small talk, slightly easing the sexual tension, and handed her a cup. He sat with his on the adjacent lounge chair even though he wanted to sit beside her more than anything. But she’d come to do her brother a favor, not date him.
She took a sip, closed her eyes and moaned. “Mmm…so good. Thank you.”
Exactly what a man wanted to hear in the bedroom. Did she sound like that during sex? Thank fuck he wore loose track pants, or she’d definitely have noticed his semi hard-on.
Now he couldn’t get her almost-moan out of his mind, would love to be the guy to take her there. Wishful fucking thinking…and so fucking wrong. He had to get his sexually deprived brain out of the gutter.
“Any time. Thank you for coming.” If only he’d been able to achieve that in an orgasmic sense.
“My pleasure.”
He wished.
Alexander could have taken things further with her in the past but didn’t regret it…exactly. They’d all made choices, and his had brought him here—back to her, back to a woman who could have changed significantly, could already be involved with someone else. It had been fifteen fucking years.
But if she were serious about another guy, wouldn’t Chase have told him? His best mate would have given him an update, a heads-up, a warning—would have reinforced his sister was taken, attached, off-limits.
Wouldn’t he?
Maybe not. He owed him nothing when it came to Sage. Chase had no idea Alexander had even a smidge of interest in her, so why would he feel obligated to tell him the ins and outs of her relationship status?
“Before you say anything else, I want to apologize for being a dick before I left. I was young and immature and—”
“No need. But thank you.” She gave him a sincere smile, and he wanted to lift her onto his lap and kiss her senseless, something he’d craved for ages but hadn’t thought proper.
What had changed now? They were both adults with more experience, clearer on what they wanted, and free and able to make their own decisions. Yeah, that mattered. It made a huge difference.
But would it increase the likelihood she’d get into a relationship with a fucked-up ex-serviceman, living in a cheap-ass unit, who’d treated her like crap? Yeah, he could afford more but he still hadn’t gotten his act together.
Could she consider him currently? No. The probability he’d be a positive influence in her life remained low to non-existent. She didn’t need to be reminded of her client load in her personal life.
Yet his hardheaded persistent persona wouldn’t allow him to be deterred. He’d try his best, even against the odds, to convince her otherwise.
She blew on her coffee and glanced at him across the top of her steaming cup, as though trying to move from the past into somewhat safe territory. “What did you want to speak about today?”
“I don’t know. There’s so much. I have no idea where to start.”
“At the beginning usually works.”
He laughed. A foreign concept. Sage had always known how to tap into his unspoken needs, not that he’d let her know. Remarkably, she’d retained the same sense of humor, and it still worked on him. “It does. But it’s not easy talking about emotions, experiences, especially when people can’t relate.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand what you’ve been through, but I can be a sounding board. I can make suggestions based on what you say. Honesty is the key here.
“Whatever you decide to divulge will direct where I go with it. The more guarded you are, the less I can help. The more information I have, the more accurate the picture and hence the better the recommendations I can give. Does that make sense?”
Fuck yeah. He’d never realized how much cleverness turned him on. “Absolutely.”
The sad truth? Alexander had never given his heart to anyone. Sure, he’d had a few fucks, but nothing of substance—more as stress relief. And yeah, that sounded heartless, however, he’d made sure his partners felt the same.
Fuck and go. Purely a physical, no-strings-attached release. Until he got his head in order, he shouldn’t commit to anyone. Should he? Because he fucking wanted Sage more than his next breath.
She placed her empty cup on the coffee table and pinned him with a firm yet supportive stare. “I know you want to feel at ease, but to work through this stuff, you need to make yourself vulnerable, uncomfortable. You need to be open to questioning and confronting your thinking.”
He placed his cup beside hers. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Because therapy is not going to be about catering to your wants. It’ll focus on what you individually need to move forward. It’ll challenge you to explore where you’re getting stuck.”
“I figured. I have nightmares, flashbacks. Can you help me?”
She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes refocusing on his. “I want to. I really do.” He sensed a but.
“Except?”
“I know you. My recommendation is for you to speak to someone unbiased, someone who doesn’t have any emotional attachments or connections, someone who will push and encourage you without conflict.” He had to give her that. No cowardice, just total truth.
“So what are you saying? Do you have an emotional attachment to me, an emotional connection?”
Her cheeks flushed ambulance-siren red, obvious even with her olive skin. What did that mean? Did she have feelings for him or had he misinterpreted, exposed some other inner vulnerability…or did she feel guilty about not being able to help? “Of course I do. You’re best friends with my brother. I’ve known you for a long time.”
“No, you haven’t. You knew me when we were still teenagers. We’ve spent the past fifteen years apart. Lots can happen.”
She nodded. “True. But it doesn’t change the fact that it makes more sense to have therapy with someone else—someone who doesn’t know you personally, someone objective.”
Hurt and rejection surged through his veins like poison. The military had abandoned him and now she was, too. He’d wanted to speak to her, someone he trusted, get to know her better…
Sage stood and carried their cups to the sink. “I should go. Think about what I said. I know it’s hard to have faith in a stranger, however, you need someone who can neutrally review your case, your thoughts, and steer you in the right direction.”
He blocked her escape to his front door. “But I trust you.”
“Thanks. The problem is anything I say could be compromised.” Her beautiful eyes met his, full of sincerity. “I’ve always wanted the best for you, Alexander. I know we’ve had our differences, but I’ve only ever wished you happiness—and that means referring you on.”
So considerate. Always sweet and thoughtful and bloody exasperating. He glanced at her plump lips, the desire to kiss her almost overwhelming.
Utilizing every ounce of superhuman effort, he held back. The circumstances weren’t right. He needed to prove to her he could re-establish himself, be a reliable support, someone who she could be interested in, believe in, respect, someone who had prospects. Because she entranced him, always had. “Okay, I value your opinion. Do it.”
“Really?” She looked at him as though she hadn’t expected his easy acquiescence.
“Yeah. I trust your professional judgment.”
She smiled and bit her bottom lip.
“Can you stay for dinner?” How the fuck had that slipped out? What had happened to his brain filter, his ability to discern and inhibit information? Did his fucked-up head play a part? Had his primal need to connect with a woman, with Sage, overridden his rational thinking?
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she looked like she couldn’t get out of his place fast enough, which seemed in direct contrast to her restless hands, her hitched breath, her flushed cheeks, all indicating her physical interest, if nothing more. “No, sorry.”
“How about tomorrow?” Because now that he’d put it out there, unless she told him to rein it in or fuck off, he had to see her again, see if the chemistry between them could develop into something deeper. He was a persistent bastard when he knew what he wanted.
“I thought you agreed for me to refer you on.” A crease of confusion crinkled her brow, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
Fuck. He wanted to slide his palm around her waist and draw her to him. “I did. I want to invite you over for a proper catch up…not therapy.”
“But you don’t even like me.” The furrow in her forehead deepened.
“I like you just fine. Always have.”
“Really?” She glanced up, her vulnerable expression full of surprise, disbelief.
“Yeah.” His gaze dipped to her mouth, then back to her beautiful eyes.
She licked her tempting lips, and he dragged in a control-yourself breath. Don’t push it, dude. If anything happened between them, they both had to consent. No ambiguity. No primitive need. No emotionally fucked-up driver. No misunderstanding. Complete, one-hundred-percent commitment to exploring each other without any other agenda.
She pulled away from the simmering heat between them, leaving a cold, wide chasm. “I need to go.”
“Do you? You sure?”
“Yes.” She stared at her fidgety fingers, her breathing loud and labored.
“Until tomorrow, then?” Because, yeah, he needed her to know he wanted to see her again. ASAP.
Her exquisite eyes focused on his and she gave him a twitchy-lipped smile. “I’ll have to see, depending on work. If I can make it, um…same time?”
“Any time.”
She laughed, and it came out all breathy and nervous.
“But you have to promise to stay for dinner.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation.”
She didn’t respond straight away, as though he’d thrown her a curveball, a mathematical problem requiring a research-whiz university professor to answer. “I’ll let you know by five p.m. whether I can come, if that’s okay.”
Oh, making her come was more than okay. Unfortunately, she didn’t mean it in that way. Her noncommittal response wasn’t quite the answer he’d wanted, but at least she hadn’t given him a definite no.
Yes! He tried to remain unaffected on the outside. “Sure.”
“And I’ll give you any referral updates.”
“No worries.”
She slipped past him and opened the door. “Text you tomorrow,” she said, and raced toward her car.