I groaned. Great. The whole team was here.
I took a deep breath and stared at my reflection again. Four hours. That’s all I’d asked for—four hours to just be myself. And I’d barely gotten one before reality came crashing back.
I smoothed my hands over my jumpsuit one last time. It was back in place, though I couldn’t help noticing that my nipples were still prominently visible through the fabric.
Nothing I could do about that now.
I schooled my features into professional indifference. Time to be Agent Renard again. Not Lyric. Not the woman who’d been moaning against Flynn Shepherd’s mouth two minutes ago.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, six pairs of eyes swiveled toward me. So not the whole team. Just most of it. Ethan and Nolan, plus Ethan’s too-serious second-in-command, Trent ‘Vigil’ Dalton, the brilliant but grumpy hacker, Osamu ‘Ozzy’ Sato, and medic Alistair ‘Preacher’ Shaw. The only ones missing were Kate, plus Leo ‘Sly’ Santiago, and Rafe ‘Sparky’ Castellanos, who were on medical leave, still recovering from the mission that killed Maya.
But the guys here didn’t exactly look mission-ready, either. Nolan’s eye sported multiple shades of purple fading to a sickly yellow at the edges, and a line of stitches marched along the hard edge of Trent’s jaw. Ozzy and Preacher had the least visible marks, but Oz’s wiry frame was more gaunt than usual, and Alistair’s normally warm eyes were shadowed with exhaustion.
“Renard.” Ethan’s tone was flat, his gaze moving between Flynn and me. “What are you doing here?”
I lifted my chin slightly. “Debriefing.” The double entendre hit me a second too late, and I caught Flynn’s smirk from the corner of my eye. Dammit.
“That’s what we’re calling it now?” Nolan burst out laughing. “You have lipstick on your face, Outlaw.”
Flynn wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, examining the smear of color with exaggerated interest. “Huh. Would you look at that?”
Ethan didn’t look amused. His face was always hard, but now it was so stony it would fit right in on Mount Rushmore. The man embodied his operational code name like no one I’d ever met. He was ‘grim’ in every sense of the word. “I don’t give a damn what you two do on your own time, but this isn’t your own time. This is an op, and I need everyone focused.”
“We’re focused,” I said, maybe a bit too quickly.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you? Because right now you look like two teenagers caught making out in daddy’s car.”
“With all due respect, I’ve completed every assignment, secured every objective you’ve given me since I joined this team. My personal life doesn’t impact my performance or?—”
“It does when your ‘personal life’ is another member of my team during a critical mission.” Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Maya would never?—”
Something in me snapped. Maybe it was the frustration of being interrupted. Or maybe I was just sick of the comparisons. “I’m not Maya.”
Ethan’s expression darkened. “Believe me, I’m well aware.”
The hurt sliced through me, but I refused to let it show. I’d spent too many years perfecting my mask to let it crack now. “I understand your concern, but I assure you, we are both professionals. The mission comes first.”
Flynn moved to stand beside me. “There was no need to drag the team halfway around the world. We had things handled here.”
While I appreciated the support, the proprietary hand he set on my back undermined my claim to professionalism. I stepped away from his touch, putting distance between us that I instantly regretted. The warmth of his hand left a phantom imprint on my back, and I fought the urge to lean into it again.
“Maya always meant it to be a team operation,” Ethan said.
“But she died, and your team went through a meat grinder. I’m surprised Nolan can even see out of that eye.” Flynn jerked his chin toward the pilot, who grinned.
“Takes more than a black eye to ground me,” Nolan said, winking with his good one. “Besides, what else was I gonna do? Sit at home watching reruns while you lot have all the fun?”
Flynn ignored him and nodded to Ethan. “And you look like you haven’t slept in weeks. You brought me in to help Lyric because your team was in no shape to run point. And, honestly, from what I’ve seen, she never needed the help to begin with. She could’ve successfully run this op solo.”
He didn’t say it like a compliment. He just laid it out as if my competence were a fact, not an opinion. Like he didn’t just approve of my abilities, he trusted them.
And that shouldn’t have made me feel anything.
But warmth bloomed in the center of my chest, entirely at odds with the cold professionalism I was trying to project. My pulse tripped. My breath caught. And for one traitorous second, I wanted to lean back into him, to bask in his belief in me.
Which was dangerous. So dangerous. Because it meant I cared what he thought. Maybe more than I should, and if I let my guard down any more, I’d probably trip over my own ovaries.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “The team’s had time to recover.”