Page 10 of Baby One Last Time
One thing about tactical team members at HEAT: we’re world-class liars, especially to ourselves.
“Don’t do that, Cynth.” Derek spoke so quietly I almost missed it.
“Do what?” Had my memories played across my face? Had he become as proficient at reading me as I was at reading other people? If so, I’d never be able to face him again, knowing he was onto how pathetic I was, still hung up on him months after he’d turned his back on me.
“Don’t run that script in your head where you tell yourself you’re the only person on earth who doesn’t deserve to be absolved of your mistakes.”
Sometimes there was no absolution, but I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will be, as long as you keep your head in the game.”
I waited for self-satisfied sneer at the reminder that a momentary loss of focus on my part had nearly cost Henderson, the crewmate assigned to me after Derek, his life. When it didn’t come, I realized that was another script I ran in my head, one where Derek was a bad guy and an ass and the kind of man who would sneer. The kind of guy I couldn’t have feelings for because he wasn’t worth it.
That was one lie I’d never convinced myself to believe.
“While we’re talking about conditions of working together,” he said, “I have one, too. I need you to trust me, to remember I have your back.”
I gripped the top of my dresser, but willed myself to cover my surprise. And my hope. “We’ll be together in the field?”
“Not exactly. Not like before.”
My heart squeezed in my chest, making it hard to breathe, like I was back outside in the choking smog.
He opened my apartment door, then hesitated. “I’ll be watching you, looking out for you. Know that. And trust me.”
He left with my go-bag, pulling the door closed behind him. I threw clothes and shoes into two more bags as I huffed and puffed over his ridiculous request. Imagine trusting him after I’d given him my heart, and he’d returned it crushed into tiny shards.
Trust you again? Not on your life, Derek Wilder.
Derek pulledinto the parking lot behind the HEAT building that fronted as an apartment complex. A swanky one, nothing like the fleabag where I’d holed up for the last few months.
I grabbed my go-bag out of the truck bed and he snatched up the other two duffels, slinging one across each shoulder. We walked to the building the same way we’d driven across town: in silence. And it had been no quick trip in LA traffic. When we reached the building’s back entrance, Derek pulled out his keycard but didn’t swipe it in front of the reader. I braced myself, waiting for him to demand my trust again. This time, I’d tell him no to his face. Probably. Or maybe my luck would change and he would admit he’d wanted me in that hotel room as much as I’d wanted him.
Lust between us I could discuss. Hell,thatIwantedto discuss. But talk about our feelings? Wasn’t going to happen. Agree to trust him? Wasn’t even on the menu.
“You know you’ve got this, right?” he asked.
“I...” By “this,” did he mean him? His body? Finishing what we’d started? Judging from the look on his face, no, no, and no. My inability to read him and anticipate what he would say next had moved past annoying and landed at aggravating. “What is it we’re discussing?”
“I was trying to say this earlier, back at your apartment, but I think I fucked it up.”
A rare admission of failure on his part. He now had my attention.
He reached for my hand but stopped before touching it. “You know what you’re doing here. You don’t have to be worried about this second chance with HEAT. I know the Aussie Asshole Job threw you off your game—”
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “We are not discussing that, remember?”
He arched an eyebrow and barreled ahead anyway. “What happened to Henderson—”
“Jesus, Derek, no means no!”
He glanced behind me, cluing me in that we weren’t as alone as I’d thought, and I turned.
TJ approached, halting ten feet away from us. “Everything okay, Kessler?” He didn’t take his eyes off Derek as he spoke.
Interesting. Derek was his mentor, but TJ was ready to take him on in my defense. It could be his way of having a team member’s back or a misplaced sense of chivalry. Whatever it was, I made a mental note. You never knew when setting the alphas against each other could work to your advantage.
Derek cleared his throat, startling me. His frown told me he’d followed my train of thought. I used to like it when he did that. Back then, though, all my thoughts had been about protecting our asses or telling him my secrets or getting him naked. Sometimes all at the same time.
