Page 37 of Gorgeous

He snorts. “No.”

He doesn’t elaborate on his statement and the silence feels constricting. “Oh,” is all I manage to get out.

Cade sighs and his chair creaks beneath his weight. “Heroes don’t exist. No one is selfless. Everyone lies and everyone takes. I find watching inaccurate portrayals of heroes annoying.”

I swallow down the pain and disappointment that rises from deep within me. Cade has no hope. No faith that people are good and honest. How can he feel that way?He’sa hero.

“I like the idea of hope,” I confess quietly. “That when all feels lost, someone is out there for you, waiting to pick you up and fight your wars.”

Cade’s head whips around and he sits up straight, turning sideways in his chair to look at me. “You live in a fantasy,” he grits out, his eyes turning cold and dark under the moon.

I shrug. “It’s better than living in hell.”

Cade stands, his chair sliding back. “Let’s go. You’re obviously done, and I’m tired.”

In the three days I’ve been staying here, I’ve yet to see him retire before midnight, but his glare and the twitch of his cheek tells me he’s not asking my opinion. I’ve hit a nerve, and he wants the hell away from me, but a true hero looks after his people even when he doesn’t want to. Like, making sure they are behind locked doors before he can rest.

I ease off my chair, tucking my notebook under my arm.

“Goodnight, Major Jameson.”

When I’m through the door, he stops me. “B?”

I turn around, a stupid smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah?”

Cade’s frown turns up at the corners and a slow smile takes its place instead. I find myself grinning back at him until he scratches at his cheek like he’s a little nervous.

I’ve finally made progress with him. Internally I fist bump myself until he says, “Can I offer you a ride home?”

He chuckles as if it’s almost a joke at this point.

Fucker.

My eyes roll as far as they can without looking like the exorcist. I straighten up, turn on my heel, and walk through the door.

And lock it.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Major Jameson look thoroughly shocked. His mouth falls open and his eyes go wide before he rushes the door, checking the handle.

“Open the door,” he says with an air of authority.

I give him a one-finger wave, blow him a kiss, and return, “Goodnight, Major,” before heading up the stairs to my room.

One of the guys can let Mr. Annoying in.

B!!!!!

Guess who I got a package from? Yep, your crazy best friend sent me a package with a letter that said, “To build up your forearms.” It was a box of porn magazines! Drew wants to propose to her right now. Ha!

And yes, I appreciate your package just as much. The major ate all the cookies you sent, though. Please send more.

Sometimes I love you.

#jessismysoulmate #thinkaboutit #youcouldbesistersforever #pleaseletmedateher

Bennett

Four days later, after what will be referred to as the greatest feeding frenzy in history, I’m beached out on a log, allowing my stomach to curse me for all the lasagna I packed in. Why am I on a log you ask? Well, the guys—obviously, not Cade—harassed me after dinner to join them outside for beers and a bonfire. What they failed to mention was that they needed a referee to judge their archaic caveman skills of who could start the fire—without a lighter—the fastest.

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