“You know what I mean, asshole!” I growled.
He grabbed me by the chin, making me look at him.
“I like you, Jordan. I like you so much I can’t bear the thought of you leaving my bed or my side. It took me years to realize that, but I’m not wasting another second. You’ll just have to… yeah, process it, I guess. Thisusshit is happening. Yeah. It’s happening. Are you receiving any of this? You’re looking at me funny.”
“I’m…” I muttered, not knowing what to say. “I’m shocked.”
“Is that all you have to say to me?”
“I mean, you just fucked the life out of me and told me things I never thought I would hear, so give me a freaking minute.”
His gaze slid down my body. “By the way, how’s your ass? All good?”
“Good,” I replied, feeling warm in the face. “Incidentally, I feel the same. I mean… about the sex part and no other options, part. And the us, part.”
When he pulled me into his arms, I reached for him greedily, half-climbing on top of him. Now, that was a bed I could get used to sleeping on.
“What about the others?” I blurted. “What if they figure it out?”
“Then they will figure it out.”
“So, you won’t change your mind?”
“No, I won’t, but don’t you get it, Jordan? You have nothing to fear. I’m the one who should be afraid.”
His words made no sense. “Why?”
“Because if you get hurt, you will take a blow. Me… I’m already cracked. A blow would shatter me.”
I shook my head, swallowing back tears. “I want this. I want you, Adam. I always did.”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“Good. Now, go to sleep. It’s late.”
It was easy to fall asleep in his arms, but my sleep was restless and filled with weird dreams. In one of my dreams, I was in Sommet again. I stood on the minefield, watching the carnage the bomb had left in its wake. Only this time, instead of my fallen comrades, a man who lay dead at my feet had a scar on his face.
This time, I wasn’t the victim.
This time, I was the bomb.
Chapter 13
A Day Off (Or Not)
Adam
Fact number one. I was gay. Or I was straight but addicted to Jordan Slade’s ass. Or bi but addicted to Jordan Slade’s ass. The possibilities were endless, according to the internet, but I was definitely addicted to Jordan Slade’s ass. Since I left it, I couldn’t stop thinking about returning there, and it wasn’t even a penis thing. It was a Jordan thing. I couldn’t imagine myself with another man, or a woman for that matter, which brought me to fact number two.
I was in fucking love. There was no denying it, because I’d never felt like this before. For the first time in my life, I fell in love with a person because I finally found someone who truly deserved to be loved. Someone who deserved to be trusted. Someone better than everyone else. Kinder. Smarter. I could go on. A saner man would argue that this happened too fast, but I’ve known Jordan for years. I’ve been obsessed with him for years. We hated each other, or we thought we did, but we also looked out for one another. We barely spent a day separated, choosing the same shifts, cases, and car rides. The way I saw it, it has been a long time coming.
Fact number three. Jordan felt the same. I was fairly sure of it, because no one would put up with me for so long if one didn’t, in fact, love me. Or was masochistic, which, in my opinion, wasn’t Jordan’s kink.
I was mulling it over ever since I woke up at dawn with a warm body sprawled over mine and a grin on my face that just wouldn’t leave.
“Adam Markland smiles,” Jordan mumbled against my chest. “Alert the media.”
“Funny,” I said, trying hard not to laugh. “Good morning.”
