Rowan’s brows lift. “Busy how.”
I don’t miss the way her gaze flicks to my mouth. I also don’t miss the way my pulse spikes like I’m a rookie. “Routine,” I say. “Food. Rest. Basic training. Situational awareness. We run drills.”
She stares. “Drills.”
“Simple ones,” I add. “If something happens, you don’t freeze.”
Rowan’s lips part, then press together. “I’m not freezing.”
“You already froze last night.”
Her eyes sharpen. “When?”
“When you got that text. Your face went blank. You stopped breathing for a second.” Rowan’s posture tightens, like she hates that I saw it. I keep going anyway. “You’re brave,” I say. “Brave people still freeze when they get hit from the side.”
Her throat moves. “I don’t like being predictable.”
“Then train.”
Rowan’s gaze holds mine, then her expression shifts into something playful that doesn’t quite hide what’s underneath. “Okay,” she says. “Training. Great. But what about when we’re not running drills.”
My jaw tightens.
Rowan’s tone goes a touch softer. “Sin. You can’t tell me you don’t get bored.”
“I don’t get bored.”
“Lie.”
I look at her, and she smiles like she just won something. I shouldn’t indulge that. I do anyway. “I don’t get bored on assignment.”
“What about off assignment?”
“This is assignment.”
Rowan’s smile lingers. Then she sets her mug down and scoots forward, elbows resting on her knees. She looks too earnest for what she’s about to say. That’s what gets me. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s say we’re stuck here for days. Maybe a week. We can’t go anywhere. We can’t talk to anyone except your people. We’re in forced proximity.” She pauses like she’s letting the words hang.
Forced proximity.
My mind immediately supplies an image of her in my bed again, hair loose, mouth parted, asking me to stay.
I clamp down hard.
Rowan continues, voice carefully casual. “We’re adults. We’re stressed. We’re in a weird, scary situation. People make dumb decisions when they’re stressed.”
My eyes narrow. “Where is this going?”
Her cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t back off. That’s Rowan. She’s scared and she still pushes. “I’m saying,” she says, “we could… make an arrangement.”
My body goes still. Every instinct locks on her like she just pulled a pin. “An arrangement?” I question.
Rowan nods, words coming faster now. “Friends with benefits. No feelings. No complications. Just… something to take the edge off while we’re stuck in this bunker cabin.”
The room goes quiet in a way that makes my skin feel too tight.
Rowan holds my gaze. Her eyes are steady, but her pulse is jumping at her throat. She’s nervous. She’s trying not to show it. She wants me.
That’s the real bomb.
