And for me, that was enough.
109
Raine
The boards above us creaked as the gulf wind shifted, faint moonlight spilling silver across Adam’s chest. My cheek rested there, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Steadier than mine, though I’d been a soldier for ten years of my life.
It was quiet enough that I could almost believe the world outside had stopped turning. No gunfire. No screaming. Just him. Just us.
“Tell me something true,” I whispered into the silence.
His hand stilled where it was tracing lazy lines over my back. “Everything I’ve told you has been true.”
“Not mission briefings.” I tipped my chin up so I could see his face. “You. Adam Stoker. What you don’t say when the team’s watching.”
His jaw flexed, the muscle ticking tight. For a long moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then—
“I don’t sleep more than three hours at a time,” he said quietly. “Haven’t since I turned twenty and watched my buddies die in a senseless war. When I close my eyes too long, I see them. And it’s easier to stay awake than face it again.”
My chest ached. Not for me—for him.
I slid my fingers along his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Then I’ll be here for the other hours. Until you close them, and when you open them again.”
His breath hitched, just slightly. Then his arm tightened around me, pulling me closer.
“Your turn,” he said, voice low. “Something true.”
My throat closed. I hadn’t planned for honesty. But with him, in this sliver of dark, lies felt heavier than bullets.
“I wasn’t fearless, Adam,” I admitted. “Back at the ridge, in that lab… I wanted to quit. I wanted to curl up and disappear. The only reason I didn’t—” My voice broke. I swallowed hard. “—was because I could hear you. Your voice in my head. Telling me I wasn’t done.”
His gray-blue eyes burned hot, unflinching. “Damn right you weren’t done. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, Raine Carter. You don’t get to see it yet, but I do. Every second.”
Something in me cracked then, but it wasn’t weakness. It was relief. The kind that comes when someone finally sees all of you—the fear, the fire, the flaws—and doesn’t flinch.
I pressed my lips to his, slow and certain. “Then don’t you dare leave me, Adam Stoker. Not in this fight. Not in the next.”
His mouth curved against mine, the faintest shadow of a smile. “Not a chance.”
And for the first time, I believed him.
110
Adam
Her kiss lingered, soft this time, not fire but something steadier—like a vow whispered into the dark. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in, the salt of her skin, the warmth of her breath.
“You scare me too, Raine,” I murmured.
Her brows lifted, faint surprise flickering in those fierce eyes. “Me?”
“Yeah.” My thumb traced the curve of her cheek. “Because you make me want things I stopped believing I could have. A life that isn’t just war. Someone who sees more than the scars. Someone who…” I exhaled, rough, the words catching. “…someone who could be mine.”
Her lips parted, eyes glistening in the slivers of moonlight. For a second, she didn’t speak, and the silence pressed heavy. Then she whispered, “I already am.”
The words hit me harder than the firefight ever could.
I kissed her then, not with hunger but with reverence, slow and aching. She melted into me, her body curling against mine, her heartbeat steady against my chest.
