Damian’s mismatched eyes track him the whole way, unreadable until Cole drops into his seat with a dramatic sigh.
Then my Captain smirks. Sharp. Mean. “Hope you washed your hands, Hollywood.”
“Oh mygod!” I choke, slapping both hands over my face. My ears are burning so hot I swear they’re going to combust.
Cole freezes mid-grin, sunglasses sliding down his nose. For a half second, he looks caught. Then his mouth curves wicked and he leans right over the armrest.
He shoves both palms out toward us. “I did not, in fact, wash my hands.”
They’re wet. Still dripping.
I shriek, jerking back so hard I nearly slam my head against the window. “You’re afucking animal!”
Cole cackles, waving his damp hands closer, like he’s blessing me with unholy baptism. “Come on, curls—bonding experience! Team chemistry!”
I’m screeching. Damian rumbles low against my cheek, a sound that’s half growl, half laugh, and all terrifying.
“Hollywood,” Damian says, lethal.
Cole’s smile falters. Just a twitch. Then he yanks his hands back and shoves them under his thighs like a kid caught stealing.
“Yessir,” he mutters.
And just like that, the rest of the vets are looking over with raised brows. Mats tilts his head. Shane blinks. Tyler looks confused out of his skull. None of them have any idea what just happened in this row.
Cole can’t leave it alone. Of course he can’t.
He tips his sunglasses down his nose, leans just far enough over the armrest to smirk at Damian. “So… am I gonna have to pretend my ears don’t work for landing too?”
My entire soul leaves my body. “Cole!” I choke, voice breaking so loud a lady two rows up actually turns.
Damian doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look at me. His eyes stay locked on Hollywood.
“Only if you want to keep your head attached to your body.”
Cole blinks. His smirk falters a half beat—then comes back full force, crooked and reckless as always. He salutes with two fingers, grin wide as sin. “Yes, Captain.”
I groan, burying my face deeper into him. “Bastard.”
Cole cackles, rocking back into his seat like he just won something.
Damian just smirks, thumb dragging slow through my hair, his silence more lethal than anything he could’ve said.
From the other side of him, Cole leans just far enough forward to peek around my Captain’s shoulder.
“Curls.”
I sigh, tilting my head just enough to glance at him. “Yeah?”
“You good?” His voice isn’t chirp-sharp this time. Not mocking. Just… curious.
My throat works, and I feel Damian’s thumb stroke once against my scalp, firm, grounding. My lips twitch into something helpless.
“I am now.”
Cole clocks the hand in my hair, the way Damian’s keeping me pinned to his chest like a leash—and grins wide enough to split his face.
“Christ,” he mutters, shaking his head, settling back into his seat. “You’re so fucked.”
