“I wanted to apologize.”
My brows furrow. “For what?”
“If I made you feel uncomfortable at all.”
I feel the flush creep up my neck.Little does he know just howcomfortablehe made me.“You didn’t.” He nods to himself. A few moments pass. “Did I makeyouuncomfortable?”
His eyes find mine. “You’ve insulted me and hit me and questioned my every intention. A hug is the least of my concerns when it comes to you, Mrs. Sinclair.”
Had I done those things?“Sorry,” I wince.
His mouth tugs up at one end, andwow, does it transform his face. Instead of brooding and indifferent, he looks sort of like a giant, huggable teddy bear. “Get some rest.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to call me Delilah, but he’s gone before I can give in to that treasonous urge. To say I’m conflicted about this man is an understatement. When did the leader of the Rebels—someone who should by all accounts be considered my enemy—become someone I care about?
I hug my cramping abdomen, sensing that this complicated thing between us is only going to get more confusing the longer I’m here.
Maverick
Present Day
“Fathers will train their sons in the ways of the Brotherhood, ensuring future generations continue to fulfill the tenets we live by.”—THE FAMILY UNIT, N.A.L. 7 § 5
I’m so fucked.
The more time I spend with Delilah, the more I like her. But pursuing any kind of relationship—or even friendship—with her would be foolish. She’s been through so much, and I would have to be a complete ass to take advantage of her fragile emotional state.
Not only do I find myself caring for her, but I definitely heard her moan my name last night. I spent all night staring up at the stars—a place that would normally bring me great comfort—tossing and turning restlessly while trying to ignore my throbbing dick. I refused to let my hand relieve the pressure in my balls, not when I knew my thoughts would be of the one woman who doesn’t deserve any more objectification. Hence, the wood chopping. It’s always been one of my tried-and-true stress relievers, but today it did absolutely nothing to help me decompress.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I have a lot to do today, including picking up my dad from across the border. It’s been a few months since his last visit, and we need to replenish our dwindling supplies, especially now that we’ve moved islands again. I need to check in with Bec before I leave since she’ll be in charge while I’m gone, and we always meet at the boat to say goodbye. Unfortunately for me, my path gets blocked on my way there by a familiar face.
“I need to talk to you.” Sam crosses her arms and sticks out her hip, the bruise around her eye shades of dark purple and sickly yellow.
I exhale, forcing myself to find the patience with her that I would anyone else. “What is it, Samantha?”
“Don’tSamanthame,” she sneers. “I think we’re both past the point of formalities, don’t you?”
I give her a tight-lipped smile. “What do you need?”
She laughs humorlessly. “Oh, I need a lot of things, the first of which being that Brotherhoodbitchback where she belongs.”
My jaw clenches involuntarily, but I have to remain calm here. Sam’s extremely perceptive. If she catches even a whiff of my feelings for Delilah, she’ll accuse me of disloyalty. “Mrs. Sinclair will be here for the foreseeable future. I suggest you make peace with her presence in your life.”
Sam steps into my space. “Her being here puts us all in danger. How many more times will we have to move to protect her?”
“The safety of everyone here is my top priority. Always has been. Always will be.”
“I’m not the only one who feels this way, Maverick.” Her tone is softer now as she reaches for my arm.
I try not to shrug her off, but her touch puts me on edge. In New Athens, she learned to use body as a manipulation tactic, and even now, her touch is never arbitrary. “I’m always open to discussing legitimate concerns with the camp. Our next meeting is in a few days.”
Sam scoffs and removes her hand from my arm. “Will you even be there?”
My usually unceasing patience is wearing thin. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“You’re always withher!” Sam shouts, pointing a finger toward my tent. “Doting on her every need, attending to her every whim.”
“Delilah’s adjusting,” I argue. “I’m just trying to make her feel welcome here.”
