Page 61 of Princess

My heart throbs with feeling at the words. I snuggle in. “Yeah. It’s on pause for now.”

“You smell clean,” he murmurs, nuzzling my hair.

“I took a shower.”

“I’m going to get you all smelly.”

“I don’t care about that.”

I don’t. Not in any way. I rub myself against every part of him I’m touching, needing to feel his heat, his strength, his life.

We lie together in silence for several minutes. I rub his flat stomach, and he strokes my loose hair.

Then he says softly, “I can’t believe you ran right into gunfire like that.” He doesn’t sound angry or disapproving or annoyed. He sounds almost affectionate.

“Well, if you didn’t want me to do that, then you shouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“You should have stayed behind cover.”

“Then you would be dead, and I wasn’t having that. I saved your life.” My mind can barely return to the intensity of the firefight. It’s easier if I just keep it out of my mind.

“I know that. You saved my life twice.” He presses a kiss against my hair. I can’t see it, but I feel it.

“Because you insist on doing all the most dangerous things. Someone’s got to have your back.”

I wait, expecting the normal protestations about how I need to stay out of danger, about how his job is to protect me. But they don’t come. Instead, he mutters in a voice so soft I can barely hear it, “Thank you.”

I tilt my head up so I can see his expression. “No lectures?”

“No lectures.” He lets out a long, thick exhale. “You were amazing. The whole time, you were amazing. Makes me feel pretty stupid about trying to stop you.”

I would have thought the words would make me feel better. I would have thought they were exactly what I wanted to hear. But for some reason they make my heart ache, my throat tighten. I hide my face against his chest and mumble, “I didn’t do that good.”

“Yes, you did.”

I hesitate since it isn’t something I want to admit after I was the one who insisted on being part of the assault team. But I need to share it with someone, and Grant is that person for me. “I was… I was terrified. The whole time. I felt frozen with it. I somehow managed to move, but I did it in this weird numb stupor—like it wasn’t really me doing it. I don’t know how I was able to get anything. I missed more times than I hit. I… didn’t do good.”

He combs his fingers into my hair and curves his hand around my scalp. “That’s how everyone feels in that situation. And it has nothing to do with how well you did.”

I’m starting to tremble now. I thought I was fine. Calm. In a decent emotional state. But now everything I’ve been holding back is rising up. “I didn’t want to… want to kill anyone. I can’t believe I did. I had to completely zone out in order to do it.”

He makes a sound in his throat and keeps caressing my head and back. “You did what you had to do. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone either. I go into a zone too.”

“You do?” I lift my head since I want to check to make sure he’s telling me the truth.

He is. I can see it in the sincerity of his expression. He’s being open with me. Completely vulnerable. His eyes are very soft. “Yes. Stop questioning yourself, princess. You were right, and I was wrong. You did so good.” His breath gives an odd little hitch. “I’m proud of you.”

For some reason, that’s the thing that does me in. Everything I was holding together inside myself cracks right in two. My shoulders shake. I bury my face in his shirt. And I sob.

He tightens his arm and moves his right arm to hold me as well, wrapping me completely in him. I cry for a long time, and he doesn’t try to stop me or reason me out of it. He occasionally murmurs, “It’s okay” or “I’ve got you.”

Finally I’ve cried myself out. My shaking has stopped, and I’m still cradled in his arms. I sniff and say, “I’m okay.”

“I know you are.”

“Sorry I got your shirt all wet.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the shirt.”

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