“I know.” He made a face. “The blockhead from Boston can read. Who knew?”
“No.” She was quick to correct him. “What I mean is that half of the stuff I’ve been telling you I got from that book. So you already know everything. And yet you let me prattle on. Why didn’t you tell me to shut up?”
He continued up the trail. When she fell into step behind him, he admitted over his shoulder, “’Cause I like hearing you talk.”
“Aww. You say the sweetest things.” When he glanced back, he found her full lips wrapped around a teasing smile. “I think I’m going to like having you for a friend.”
He opened his mouth to say… He wasn’t sure what. So he quickly closed it again.
The sad truth was he’d yet to come up with the right words to explain how, after weeks of turning her down, he was now ready to take her up on her offer.
Thanks to Doc, and with conditions attached, of course.
Some very strict, very set-in-stone, cannot-be-broken, hard-and-fast rules.
He hoped he would find the words he was missing during their picnic. With a full belly, and with Alex’s penchant for opening her mouth and putting things out into the world unfiltered, he thought for sure an opportunity would arise where he could casually mention Hey, Alex. I changed my mind. Let’s bang.
Okay, so obviously it wouldn’t be that. It would be smoother. Sexier.
Or, you know, he could always pounce on her. That would get his point across. And it was far more his style. Less talk. More action.
Unfortunately, it would also preclude the laying down of the rules. And that couldn’t happen. He had to make it clear to her, before anything physical happened, that this would be a one-time deal.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if there were any misunderstandings and—
“Mason?” He realized he’d been quiet for too long. “Were you about to say something?”
“Ya-huh.” He turned back toward the trail. “I’m starving. Let’s hurry.”
It wasn’t a lie. He was hungry. He just happened to be hungry for far more than the BLT sandwiches and brownies he’d packed in the basket.
With images of the two of them naked and sweaty on the picnic blanket, his pace quickened. Fine, it was more like his anticipation had him nearly running.
When he realized she was having difficulty keeping up, he forced himself to slow down. And when he glanced back again, he saw a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead next to the bandage covering her cut. He hated the sight of it. The proof that she’d been in danger. That she’d been hurt.
“I, uh, never thanked you for saving our asses yesterday.” He adjusted the picnic basket in his hand.
“Just doing what you taught me.” She waved off his gratitude.
“You were brave, Alex.” He hoped she could read the truth in his face. “Only reason we’re standing here now is ’cause of you. You distracted them just when we needed you to.”
She chewed her bottom lip. But given the way his body reacted, she might as well have been doing a striptease.
His own lips tingled. They remembered exactly how lush that bottom lip could be. How warm and soft.
Don’t get a boner! The old mantra screamed through his mind.
“I wasn’t trying to distract them.” Something moved behind her eyes. He’d seen that something many times with green recruits who’d gotten their first taste of battle. It was the look of someone who’d come face-to-face with what it truly meant to deal in death. “I was trying to kill them. I wanted them dead. I wanted to send them to hell. What’s that say about me?”
“That you’re human,” he assured her. “That you’ll fight for your survival and the lives of those you care about.”
She nodded. But the funny look on her face told him that while she wanted to believe him, she wasn’t sure she did.
“It changes how I see myself.” She glanced down to where she drew a circle in the sand with the toe of her flip-flop. “But more than that, it changes how I look at the world.” When she glanced at him, her green eyes were overly bright.
It was probably a mistake, but he set the picnic basket on the ground. “Come here.” He motioned her forward.
She hesitated. So he grabbed her hand and pulled her tight against him.
Could she hear how quickly she made his heart race? Could she feel how fast she made his blood run? Did she have any idea what she did to him?
“I used to think people were intrinsically good. That life was sweet.” Her hot breath seeped through the cotton of his tank top to tickle the skin beneath. “I used to think I was safe as long as I didn’t frequent seedy bars or walk down dark, deserted alleyways. But people aren’t intrinsically good. And I’m not safe. The world is dark, Mason. And it’s dangerous.”
He wished he were more like Wolf. In a moment like this, the sorry bastard would be able to come up with something perfect and profound to help ease her mind. Instead, the only thing Mason could think to tell her was “Sorry, Alex.”
She patted his chest, her hand light and warm over his heart. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It simply is.”
She tilted her chin back. “Does it ever get better? Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder, expecting to find monsters creeping up behind you?”
He squeezed his eyelids shut. Partly because he couldn’t keep looking down at her without kissing her. But also because Alex was unsettlingly perceptive. If he looked at her now, she would see him.
All of him. All the good, bad, and ugly things inside.
“Gets better for some people.” His voice was low with solemnity. “They can experience death and violence and put it behind ’em. Move on as if nothing happened. For others”—Including me, he silently added—“they’re changed. Things from their past overshadow their present.”
“What separates one group from the other?” Her tone was as somber as his.
“Wish I knew,” he told her. “But I think you’re the type who’ll be able to forget. It might take time. But I think you’ll see the world through rose-colored glasses again.”
Her lips twisted. “I take it you don’t feel you’re the kind to forget and move on?”
He shrugged and stepped away from her. She was traipsing too close to the truth of him. Also, he’d lost the battle with his body when it came to her nearness. The clean, beachy smell of her had gone to his head. The little one decidedly south of his neck.
He retrieved the picnic basket. “I was born and raised in Southie, babe. My rose-colored glasses were gone by the time I was ten.”