“Ow, ow, ow…”
“Ry sets the fridge just shy of Arctic winter.”
I jump, splashing cold, sticky blue liquid down my shirt. “Shee-it, West. No one was supposed to be here today.”
The former SEAL drops his rucksack on the table and shrugs. “Tank wanted a refresher course on the new cell phone tracking program. He should be here in twenty.” He braces an elbow on the counter, studying me.
My once-white tank clings to my chest. The sugary sweet scent doesn’t do shit for my nerves. Neither does West’s unnerving stare. Dammit. Why did he have to show up today of all days? He’s gonna want to talk, and I just…can’t.
“You look like someone stole your puppy. What happened?”
“Nothin’.” The word slips out before I realize there’s no fucking way he’ll believe me.
“Dammit, Raelynn,” he snaps. “This is your last chance. If you can’t be honest with me, I’m benching you.”
I square my shoulders, meeting his steely gaze with all the confidence of a June bug who just escaped the chicken coop. “We’re not on mission, asshole. And you know my history. You want to bench me for havin’ a bad day? Go for it. I gotta clean up.”
I hightail it for the lockers before West can stop me. So much for a hard workout. Coming here was a mistake.
The hot water soothes a sliver of my battered heart—or maybe that’s the fresh tears I couldn’t hold back once I stepped under the spray—and I feel almost human again when I emerge from the showers in a clean sports bra and leggings.
Until I spot West leaning against my locker, his arms crossed over his chest. “Give me a fuckin’ break, will you? I’m benched. I got it. Call me when you think I’ve learned my lesson.”
He doesn’t move or react in any way, holding my gaze like he’s daring me to have a go at him. “Didn’t take you for an idiot. Or a coward.”
A ball of rage gathers in my chest, burning so hot, I can’t control it. Shoving him, I expect him to move, but the SEAL is two hundred pounds of solid muscle. He doesn’t budge.
“Want to get it out of your system? We can step into the ring right now. But if you don’t want to fight me, you’ll sit your ass down and listen.”
If I’m gonna keep this job, I don’t have much of a choice. Doc Reynolds gave me the all clear to resume training, but sparring with West isn’t in the same universe as “taking it easy.” If we tried, I’d be flat on my back in under two minutes. “Move so I can get a clean shirt. I ain’t havin’ this conversation in just my bra.”
He inclines his head toward the couches next to the kitchen. “Do what you need to do. I’ll be waiting.”
Though I’m tempted to drag out every single step—fumbling my locker combination, repacking my go bag, taking the time to put on some foundation—I can’t. Better to rip off the Band-Aid and find out how badly I fucked up.
A steaming mug of coffee waits for me on the side table when I sink down across from him. “Thanks.”
He nods. “You look like you need the jolt.” After a pause, he stares me down. “I do know your history, Raelynn. That’s why I was concerned. You didn’t need to cry on my shoulder for an hour. That’s not you. But I didn’t expect you to flat-out lie to me either.”
The denial dies on my lips. That’s exactly what I did. What I’d keep doing if I thought I could get away with it.
“I didn’t set out to lie. I ain’t good at talkin’ about my problems. It slipped out, and I’m sorry.”
West sets his coffee cup down and leans forward, his fingers steepled. “When Ry handed me your dossier, he said you were looking to move somewhere no one knew your history. We gave you that. He and I are the only ones who know what happened back in Texas, and it’ll stay that way unless you decide to open up to the rest of the team.”
I choke down my sip of coffee. “You didn’t tell anyone else?”
“No.” After a beat, he frowns. “Why does that surprise you?”
Sputtering, it takes me three tries to form a coherent thought. “N-no secrets. Complete honesty. Your words. And Ry’s. Ain’t that a damn big secret to keep?”
His gaze softens, and though West never loses that patented SEAL intensity—the one designed to make even the most hardened criminal wither under his stare—this is a side of him I haven’t seen before.
“It is. For you. But it isn’t my secret to tell. As long as it doesn’t affect you on mission, it’s nobody’s business but yours.”
“So why the hell are you givin’ me the third degree here?” I ask.
“Because ever since Salt Lake City, you’ve been in a shit mood, and it’s only a matter of time before we all pay the price. Why do you think I’ve been riding your ass since we got back?”
