Fuck.
Ghost’s hands tightened on her waist. His restraint frayed, every instinct screaming at him to pull her back. Then, slowly, he forced himself to step away.
Cold air rushed between them. Rachel inhaled sharp. Her lips were swollen from his kiss, her breathing unsteady. When she looked at him, Ghost knew his face was giving him away, the war between what he wanted and what he should do.
His chest rose and fell fast. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached. This wasn't casual. It was never going to be casual with her.
"Come on," he said. "I need to get you back before I do something we'll both regret."
She looked at him for a long moment. He could see her considering what to say.
"I don't regret a thing, Logan," she said softly. "But I am regretting that this is ending so soon."
Ghost let out a shaky breath, half laugh, half frustration with himself. "Come on, baby." Gentler this time.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Her palm was warm against his, then he turned, tugging her with him.
They walked back in silence. Ghost's thumb moved in slow circles against her palm without him really thinking about it.
FOB Kilo was quiet this late. A few scattered conversations near the comms tent, the low sounds of gear getting stowed. The sweep was done. Night routines winding down.
Ahead, he heard boots crunching on gravel. The team was filtering back in. Torch returning from the north flank, gear slung over one shoulder. Predator and Rogue wrapping up a side-channel check. Frost and Brick near the eastern gate.
Reaper was already heading back. He spotted them across the path and slowed. His eyes moved from Ghost to Rachel, then back.
He didn't smirk. Didn't say anything. Just gave a single short nod.
Ghost held his gaze a beat longer than necessary, then looked away.
They reached Rachel's barracks. Ghost stopped a pace back from the door.
Neither of them moved. Rachel turned slightly, eyes lifting to his. "So..."
Ghost didn't let her finish. "This changes things."
Her breath caught. He heard it. "Good or bad?"
"Real."
She nodded once and stepped inside. The door closed behind her.
Ghost stood there for a few seconds, staring at the closed door, then turned back toward the compound.
The sweep was over, but whatever line had existed between him and Rachel was gone now, and Reaper wasn't the only one who'd noticed.
Ghost cut across the packed earth toward the team's tent. He felt the shift in attention as he entered.
Torch looked up from his cot, boot in hand. One eyebrow raised slightly.
Brick was already stretched out but his eyes tracked Ghost before closing.
Rogue muttered something low to Predator. Whatever it was got a short, quiet laugh.
Ghost didn't break stride. He stripped down to his base layer, set his rifle beside the cot, and dropped onto the canvas.
The lantern near the back flicked off. The tent went dark.
Ghost stared up at the fabric above him, hands folded across his chest. He could still feel Rachel in his arms, still taste her on his lips.
