Fighting the desire—need—to hug her, I settle for rubbing Yara’s arm instead. And I end up saying something closer to the truth than I’ve ever admitted. “I know how you feel, Tink. Of coming back and feeling like… less.”
Her brow creases.“Ace.”
“But you’re not,” I add. “You came back and jumped right back into doing amazing things. Creating these incredible prosthetics. You changed Indy’s life with the one you made him. You change other people’s lives. That’s not being a shadow, Tink. You’re one of the brightest lights I’ve ever seen.”
She looks at me, long and hard, emotion working in her eyes. “Thanks, Ace.” After another long pause, she nudges my elbow with hers. Then she gives me a tiny smile. “So.BattleBots. I’m in the middle of the quarterfinal rounds, but if you aren’t up to them yet…”
“Quarterfinals sound great.” Leaning forward, I grab the remote and turn on the TV. “And you can explain this giant wheel business. Plus, the robot that’s supposed to be so powerful, but it keeps overheating every match. What’s the point of having high RPMs if the engine overheats every time?”
Yara shifts, so her thigh is brushing mine. The next smile she gives me is bigger. More genuine. Some of the tension in her features is gone. “Okay. So, with the spinner, the idea is to take out all the opponent’s offensive gear right away. But it’s really an older style of robot. You’ll see when you get into the later seasons. That’s when the flippers really come into their own.”
As Yara continues explaining, I watch the last of the darkness leave her eyes. And along with it, some of my worry dissolves.
Not all of it, no. I still want to know just how bad things have been for her lately. And I still want to look into these mysterious footsteps in the parking lot that I’m not entirely convinced were imagined.
But for now?
For now, I’m at Yara’s place, listening to her talk about one of her favorite things. We’re going to eat pizza and watch TV like we used to. If she wakes up from a nightmare, I’ll be here for company.
She’s smiling. She’s safe.
And for now, that’s more than enough.
CHAPTER 5
YARA
“Do you want eggs,pancakes, or both?”
Ace looks up from the array of pans and bowls and ingredients I didn’t even know I had arranged in front of him and flashes me a warm smile. “I might be able to do French toast, if you want. Or breakfast sandwiches.”
If I wasn’t fully awake yet, the sight of Ace standing in my kitchen in just a pair of mesh shorts and a shirt that does nothing to hide his muscles would be enough to do it.
Hisveryimpressive muscles, I may add.
After working predominantly with men for over a decade, I should be plenty used to seeing men’s bodies by now. I shouldn’t be so affected by the flex of Ace’s biceps or how his well-muscled forearms look like they’re dusted in gold as the morning sun hits them.
I shouldn’t be noticing the breadth of his shoulders and how perfectly his T-shirt stretches across them.
My eyes shouldn’t be drawn to his well-muscled thighs, kept strong from the hours of conditioning I know he does each day.
I shouldn’t be wondering what he’d look like without the barriers of clothing—whether he has a six-pack or eight, if there are any tattoos hidden beneath them, and if his naked ass looks as good as I’m imagining.
No. I shouldn’t be thinking about any of those things. But here I am. Thinking.
To my horror, I feel my nipples tightening. A needy ache pulses at my core. Heat warms my cheeks.
No,I tell myself.Ace is just a friend. Get your sex-starved mind out of the gutter.
But the very thought of sex makes it even worse. I’ve only allowed myself brief fantasies of me and Ace together when there’s absolutely no danger of it happening. When I’m lying in bed, too wound up after a nightmare to go back to sleep, and I’m desperately casting about for something more pleasant to think about.
That’s when I let myself slip back to those nights when Ace and I stayed up late—or early, depending on how you look at it—and flip the script so it ends differently. Instead of just sitting on the couch, talking, I close the last few inches of distance between us. I put my hand on his thigh as I lean in to kiss him.
He’s surprised at first, since I’ve never given any indication of wanting more than friendship. But he quickly reciprocates, kissing me back with a hungry intensity. One big hand comes to my nape, tilting my head back to kiss me more deeply. His furnace-like heat sears into me as our bodies come together. Then he hauls me onto his lap, and I straddle him, feeling his erection jutting hard against me.
And when our passion rises to a fever-pitch, that’s when Ace sweeps me into his arms and carries me to the bedroom.Sweeps, like I’m a character in a romance movie rather than a battle-hardened soldier who’s never been swept off her feet in her life. But in my fantasy, that’s what he does.
“Yara?” Ace’s smile dips. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I started breakfast, since I was already up. But if you’d rather I didn’t mess with your things?—”
