“No.” I shook my head. “This is sonotgood for me. I’m supposed to be showing how well this program can work, not undermining it by insulting my fellow participants.”
She threw her hands in the air, as I were the one exasperating her, not the other way around. “Tell him you sent it by mistake. Or—” She held up a finger. “That it was intended for someone else.”
I laughed. “Someone else? I think it’s pretty obvious he was the intended recipient.” I stopped midstride on the sidewalk. “Maybe my dad knows someone who can take it back. He’s got to have some tech guru who can erase it.”
“Olivia.” She grasped my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. “Take a deep breath.”
I did as she said, though my heart was still racing. I couldn’t believe I’d typed those words, let alone sent them.
“Your email wasn’tthatbad in the grand scheme of things.” Her calm tone was at direct odds with the churning of my stomach.
“Not that bad?” My eyes bulged. “I called him an asshole and insinuated that he was a pussy.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Okay, well, it wasn’t great. But it could be worse.”
I shook out of her hold, digging around in my purse for my phone. “If I can’t take it back, I should at least apologize.”
“Nope.” She grabbed it out of my hand. “Nuh-uh. You should never apologize for standing up for yourself.”
I sighed, sensing that I needed to step away from the situation. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d allowed my emotions to get the best of me. And I never let that happen. Not when my parents told me they were getting divorced, not even when rumors circulated in high school that my mom was sleeping with one of the teachers.
Whatever happened, I rarely allowed myself to show any outward emotion. I rarely let anything get to me. But this man—this asshole, Connor—had gotten under my skin. One email exchange with a man I didn’t know, and I’d completely lost my cool. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Chapter Four
Connor
“Is something amusing, Cujo?” Quinn asked from the other side of the conference table.
I hit the power button on my phone and slid it back into my pocket. “No.”
“Good. Because I’d hate to think that you were laughing while we’re discussing the latest intel.” He glared at me as if challenging me to disagree.
“Of course not.” I kept my chin up and my eyes straight ahead. Show no weakness. It was a lesson that had been ingrained in me long before joining the SEALs.
Though, of course, I had been laughing to myself. God, this girl—Olivia. She was something else. Her latest email had come as quite a surprise.
It had been a few days since I’d emailed her, and I hadn’t thought to check the account assigned to me for the Spines for Soldiers program. I hadn’t thought about the program at all, nor had I reconsidered my stance on reading the book. It remained on my nightstand, collecting dust.
It wasn’t that I was opposed to reading, despite what I’d written in my initial email to Olivia. In fact, when I was younger, I’d loved reading. My mom had always encouraged it. And we’d spend hours together, huddled up in my bed reading. That said, I remained skeptical that this program, that reading with a stranger and emailing about it, would heal me. I was pretty sure nothing could heal the wounds of my past.
But her latest email… I shook my head. I honestly was stunned she’d had the guts to call me an asshole, let alone the insults that followed. I was too amused to be offended. Too surprised to be upset.
She was…different than I’d expected. She also—despite her nerdy bullet-point lists, self-professed bookworm tendencies, and cat-lady ways—had stood up to me. Some of her jabs were a bit juvenile in nature, but she’d made her point. Better yet, she’d made me laugh. You are what you eat… God, I hadn’t expected that from her.
I spent the rest of the morning thinking about her. Where was she from? What did she look like? Did she have a boyfriend? I shook away the thought. I shouldn’t care if she had a boyfriend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all, but she was a good distraction.
When I got home from physical therapy, I struggled my way up to my apartment, ready to ditch this damn cane. And by the time I made it into my bedroom, I was fucking exhausted.
My knee was aching after a grueling hour of rehab, so I popped a pain pill before grabbing a bag of ice and lying back on my bed. I was tempted to reach for my phone or laptop, but neither sounded appealing. And when a flash of teal caught my eye, I glanced over at the book I’d been ignoring—Alone in Alaska.
I picked it up and flipped it over to read the back cover. The story sounded interesting. It was about a seventeen-year-old who’d been flying to Alaska with his tutor when their plane crashed. It was touted as an epic tale of survival and love, and I found myself spreading the pages to discover the story within.
I lost track of time as the author wove a tale of heartache and sacrifice, but above all, of love. The kid was clearly crushing on his teacher, but she was resolute. He’d finally turned nineteen, and she seemed to be reconsidering her stance on their relationship. They’d been living in the wilderness for over a year, and they relied on each other. Cared for each other.
“Cujo,” Decker said, rapping on my open door.
“What?” I snapped my head up, slamming the book shut.
