"You could come home and let me take care of it." The words are out before I can stop myself. Ugh, that did sound like a blatant invitation, didn’t it?
He shoots me a glance that’s half amused, half heated. "Did you just invite me to your place?"
"And if I did?" I tip up my chin.
"You’re Phe’s friend?—"
"And you’re her older brother. So what? I’m twenty-one. I’m an adult. I can decide for myself who I want to invite home."
He shakes his head. "Oh no, I’m not going to the home of my little sister’s best friend."
"Why? Don’t you trust yourself?" I flutter my eyelashes at him.
He flashes me another look, from under half-closed eyelashes. "It’s you I don’t trust."
I scoff. "Why? Do you think I’ll throw myself at you?"
"Wouldn’t you?"
"I—" I was going to say I wouldn’t. But that would be a lie. I’d totally climb this hunk of a man like a tree and cling to him like a koala bear.
"Exactly." He half smiles. When he looks at me again, there’s no gloating on his face. Instead, his eyes carry an expression I can only call regretful.
My heart lightens somewhat at that. He does want more, but for some reason, his sense of propriety will not let him take things further with me. He’s not only hotter than Hades but he also has a clear sense of right and wrong. Something which endears him even more to me.
The skin around his eyes crinkles. "Why don’t I take you to my favorite spot in London instead?"
7
James
"Oh wow… The view is beautiful." She takes in the lights of the city spread out in front of us.
"It certainly is."
Something in my voice makes her turn to look at me, to find I’m looking at her. She flushes deeply. The color stands out on her creamy skin in the moonlight.
We’re at the top of Primrose Hill, and London glows beneath the velveteen sky.
I’m entranced by her zest for life. At how she welcomes every experience like it's her first time. Probably because it is. Unlike me. I feel old and jaded. Exhausted by the business of living. Until now, I hadn’t realized how burned out I am from my last mission. But meeting her brings home the fact that I’ve lost my thirst for life.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped believing in the reasons I signed up to be a Marine. Instead, I began to dread the thought of more violence.
Of more teammates being killed or maimed. I’ve begun to recoil at the prospect of hearing screams of pain. Of smelling burning flesh. Of going into yet another strategy meeting, ordered by the powers that be, where the directives seemed to make no sense.
The sense of idealism and the loyalty to my friend which propelled me to join the Royal Marines has all but faded. I’m carrying out missions based on a sense of duty… Which is not a bad thing, in itself. But it’s not enough for me. I need to find what fires me again. I need to find my passion. What lights me up from the inside and makes each day worth living again. I need… To leave the Marines and forge my own path.
The decision which has been hovering at the corners of my subconscious mind crystallizes. I didn’t even realize, I’ve been wanting to make a change in my life. But meeting her precipitated it. I have this gorgeous, utterly entrancing woman to thank for pushing me to arrive at a decision which I have no doubt is going to change the course of my life. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
My feet seem to move of their own accord.
I reach her, and when I hold out my hand, she places hers in it.
"Thank you."
"For what?" She smiles.
"For being you."
