Page 35 of My Forbidden Commander

I clear my throat. “Good night, Specialist.”

Reyes smirks. “Good night, Colonel.”

Then he’s gone. I lean my forehead against the door and squeeze my eyes shut.

Oh fuck. What did I do?

18

NOAH

The fog rolls in thick this morning, and I’m sitting on my bunk, whistling to myself.

“Man, that’s obscene,” Hayes says, hauling his boots on beside me. “You’re about to get tortured in sub-arctic conditions, and you’re doing show tunes.”

“Great dreams,” I say.

“I don’t want details,” Hayes answers dramatically.

“I didn’t offer any.”

He squints at me like I’ve grown a second head, then gives up and laces his boots faster, muttering something about morning people being a public health issue. I don’t argue. I’m too busy floating.

You’re fucking mine, Reyes. If anyone else touches you like this, I’ll shoot them myself.

He claimed me out loud, and I’ve been repeating it in my head since last night. I haven’t gotten tired of hearing the replay, and I don’t think I ever will. Because it wasn’t just a hint. It wasn’t an innuendo or something hidden behind a support beam. Real words, his voice breaking a bit on my name.

I’ve got butterflies. Actual stupid, teenager butterflies, and I hate how much I love it.

At formation, I work overtime not to smile at him.

It’s a losing battle. Gabriel stands in front of the line with his hands clasped behind his back, running his eyes down the row, and when he gets to me, his jaw goes tight, like he’s fighting the exact same fight I am. I bite the inside of my cheek and stare at a point just past his shoulder, and it barely works.

“Warm-up,” he says. “Then calisthenics.”

I’ve barely started warming up when he stops in front of me.

“Reyes. Your laces are untied.”

I look down. My laces are double-knotted, just like they were at 0600 when I tied them, just like every morning since basic. I look back up at him, and there’s nothing in those gray eyes but what he’d want the whole squad to see. Regulation everything.

“Drop and give me fifty,” he says after a beat.

That’s when I remember his words from last night when I pushed him. You little shit. You’ll pay for this.

I almost laugh but catch myself just in time.

“Yes, sir,” I say, and drop.

Fifty push-ups in the gravel is not nothing, and by the time I get to thirty, my arms are shaking and my breath is coming out in little puffs, but I’m smirking into the ground the entire time.

Bring it on, Colonel.

If this is the price, I’d gladly pay it twice.

When I jump back up, Gabriel’s already turned away, like he didn’t just invent a lace violation out of thin air so he can touch me the only way he can in daylight.

The whole day, I can’t stop watching him.