White leather couches and recliners, spaced around tables and televisions. Plush carpets and a bar at the far end.
“What’s back there?” Aaron asked.
“The bedrooms,” Smoke said. “Go ahead, pick one. We’re going to be on here for about nine hours and I know you’re exhausted.”
I gasped, “Nine hours?”
“Four to Tel Aviv, an hour on the ground, about four hours to Milan.”
“Smoke…”
“We have to get him extracted,” Smoke said. “Trust me, if I could get straight to Milan, I would. But this guy is a voluntary asset, and he’s in deep crap.”
Aaron headed straight back for the door, and pushed through, removing himself from the whole conversation. He was exhausted. This would have been exhausting as a normal tour—now we were running around half the world, saving people, delivering stolen property, and now getting someoneelseout of deep crap.
“Smoke, I swear to God,” I grumbled.
“I’m not going to apologize. The kid needs rescuing right now.” He looked back to where Aaron had disappeared. “Just go, lay down with him. You guys have been really helpful, and I owe you. And you need time with him.” Smoke gave me a sad smirk. “He’s smitten with you, and I would give a leg to have someone look at me the way he looks at you.”
“You were threatening me yesterday.”
“I’m done threatening you. Go. Take a nap, take a shower, whatever. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes.”
“Do you have seat belts in the shower?” I asked, confused.
He turned and winked. “Wouldn’t that be fun.”
* * *
There wereno seat belts in the shower.
Nor was Smoke’sTel Aviv grab and goin any way shape or form an actual grab-and-go.
I was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom we’d picked when Aaron walked back in. I jerked my head up to look at him, but he didn’t have to say a word for me to have my answer.
“Still? Seriously? We’ve been here for six hours!”
“You don’t have to tell me.” He was as grumpy as I was. “At least we were able to let the guys know we’re safe now.”
“Well, there was that.” It was true. We were able to use the phone on board as soon as we landed, and I managed to get through to Holland and Dietrich. They were both happy to hear from us, but they were also really pissed we weren’t there yet. I promised I would call again when we were going to takeoff.
Which should have been nearly six hours before. We’d eaten, watched a movie, eaten more, and I finally decided that we weren’t leaving in ten minutes, so I took a shower. Aaron had stayed out to see if Smoke was on his way—like we’d been doing every ten minutes since we landed.
Aaron walked to his bag and stared down into it for a moment. “Fuck it. I’m going to sleep. If we takeoff and I roll out of the bed, so be it.” He pulled out his toiletries and a fresh pair of boxers, and slammed the door to the shower.
I knew exactly how he felt. We’d already been in a high-speed escape and shot at, and all we wanted to do was get back to the band and the tour we were supposed to be on.
All I wanted was the chance to get our relationship sorted in my head. I couldn’t do that when I was strapped with a Sig Sauer I’d had to fire at a Ukranian personnel carrier.
No one would ever accuse Smoke of being boring. I would, however accuse him of being a giant cockblock.
Just as I decided to join Aaron in the bathroom, the water was already shut off. He was the world’s fastest showerer—and I’d lost the chance for some fun in the stall.
Then again, maybe we were both that tired.
It took him another ten minutes before he walked out of the bathroom, and shut the light off behind himself. He put the dirty clothes and shaving kit back in his bag, then walked over to my side of the bed and stared at the nightstand for half a minute.
He placed his hand down and left—
