Page 61 of Haze of Obedience
My gut drops further as I ogle his backside.
He dries off, puts his clothes on, and turns. "We should get going soon."
"Oh. Sorry." I quickly bathe, and when I step out, he's several feet down the path with his back to me. Once I'm dressed, I meet up with him, and we walk in silence.
Throughout the morning, I glance over at him. I've messed up bad, and I don't know how to fix it. Not once does he even peek my way. His chiseled face is hardened, and his expression never changes.
We walk for several hours, and I finally can't take it anymore. I reach for his forearm, and he freezes.
In Spanish, I say, "I'm a hot mess."
He briefly closes his eyes but then finally turns to me.
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry," I tell him.
"What do you want from me, Zoe?"
You. I just want you.
But my scared, screwed up self isn't going to go there.
"I don't know," I lie as my chest tightens.
He clenches his jaw.
Silence.
He nods. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have touched you. It's unprofessional of me, and I'm sorry I put you in this position. We have a long way to go—"
"I know. I'm sorry—"
"It's not your fault. Let's keep it in the professional zone, and we won't have any more issues, okay?"
No.
Tell him that isn't what you want.
It's what he wants.
You're such a mess and don't even know how to take care of yourself right now.
"O...okay. If that's what you want?"
"It is."
Hearing him say those two words is the equivalent of a razor blade slashing my heart.
I force a smile. "So we're good then?"
"Yeah."
My stomach growls.
"Hungry?"
I shrug. "I can keep going."
"Let's stop and have some food." He pulls out two military packs and motions for me to sit. "Give your legs a break."
