Page 41 of Under Pressure

She laughed, keeping her tone low. “Would it be wrong if I did?”

“Not at all.” He gripped the bar top, assessing every inch of her body. In a deeper voice, he continued, “What else do you like?”

“Nerdy stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Chemistry, experiments, bioethics,” she began listing, her clear blue eyes flashing at him again as she abruptly halted.

“Damn.” He gave a low laugh, looking around. “You’re too smart for this group of idiots, and I include myself in that.”

She let out a hearty laugh in response, shaking her head. He let the conversation lapse while she took another drink, enjoying himself thoroughly as he watched her. Like him, she obviously hated taking compliments. That much was clear. And the more he exchanged with her, the more intoxicated by her he felt.

“You and I—I’m sure we are exact opposites.” She flickered her gaze up and down his body, and he knew what she saw.

“Opposites, huh?” He raised his eyebrow, wondering if this was her attempt at pushing him away. It surprised him. By that point, most women he met were inventing things they had in common, pretending to like everything he liked, including the back seat of his pickup truck.

He continued, “Let me guess… Your perfect Saturday involves a book and silence.”

Cocking her head back and letting out a laugh, Kendra grumbled, “Guilty, and what the hell do you get up to?”

Taking his time, he sipped his beer again, thinking about how to phrase it.

She cut into his thoughts, calling him out, “Stop trying to massage the truth and just spit it.”

Surprised at her quick tongue, he stiffened.

“You want to know the truth? I never tell girls this because I don’t want to fucking scare them. My perfect Saturday involves the firing range, prepping for my next deployment and running survival scenarios in the mountains.” Then he added, sarcastically, “So, yeah—I’m a pretty well-rounded guy.”

“Wow,” she said with a very unimpressed face. “Eat and sleep all things military, much?”

“I’m marriage material. What can I say?” He tilted his head, playacting as conceited.

Laughing at him, she said, “Seems like it. You should get a non-military hobby.”

“Like what…basket weaving?” he teased. “Knitting?”

“Yeah, you’d be cute doing some arts and crafts,” she baited right back, not missing a beat. “Make me a Hufflepuff scarf, please.”

“Fuck, I’m not going to tell you what my real extra-curricular hobby is.” He groaned under his breath as he downed the rest of his glass, the mere thought tensing his shoulders.

“Come on,” she flirted in a gasping tone. “Tell me.”

Toying, he brushed her off. “You couldn’t handle it.”

“You are too much.” She shook her head, grinning back at the bartender for another pint.

“You saying you aren’t interested?” Delta leaned back in, looking down his nose at her, calculating.

“Of course not—what did you think this was?” she countered, a little too much seriousness in her tone.

He shrugged, keeping it light, watching her every move.

“I’m not that easy,” she added, changing the dynamic.

He shot her a cold glare. “I never said you were.”

She doubled down, carving out boundaries. “Don’t even try it with me. It’s a waste of your time. I’ve got a chastity belt on.”

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