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“No.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at his stern response. “You really do expect everyone to do exactly what you say, don’t you?”

“They usually do.”

I was sure they did.

“I learned quickly in the military that there was no point in giving an order if you didn’t expect complete obedience.”

“And now you still do?”

“The work I do with Vigilance isn’t really different from what I did in the army. We just don’t have the same rules and constraints, and I don’t have to listen to some jackass who’s never been out there, putting his life on the line, telling me what I should do.

I knew from conversations I’d overheard on comms that X wanted to take a bigger role in missions, but he was constrained because he had to hide his identity. Going around in a mask and costume was fine in a superhero movie, but in real life that wasn’t actually going to work. It was best for him to stay on the sidelines if there would be many people involved.

“You didn’t worry about being recognized last night.”

“Swain already knew my identity, and I didn’t plan to let any of his minions out of there alive.”

X and his team had succeeded in that goal.

“Do you always get what you want?”

He shook his head. “My team almost always wins, but there have been losses, and it would be really nice to just be myself.”

He looked startled, like he was surprised he’d said that.

I was surprised too. Most people found me far too awkward to attempt casual conversation much less to be the recipient of their secrets. “So which is the real you, X or Thomas Carrington?”

“Neither. Both. They are partly roles I’ve created and partly authentically me in certain situations. I’m not really doing anything I wouldn’t naturally do as either. I just can’t let my other side show at the wrong time.”

“Surely your team doesn’t expect you to be a hardass twenty-four seven.”

“As their leader, I need to be there for them.”

“They do know you’re human, right?”

He smiled. “I am, and I make mistakes.”

“Like Lane.” I covered my mouth as soon as the words were out. “I’m sorry. That was so inappropriate. I’m not… This is why I don’t talk to people. I don’t know what to say, and then I say the wrong thing, or I don’t say anything, or I just fuck everything up.”

“You’re right. Not being part of Lane’s life is one of my biggest mistakes. I’m trying to make it right now. I thought what I was doing was best. I was in the army then, so I was rarely home. Lane’s mother, Sandra, and I were never going to work out as a couple. My missions were… I never really expected to come back alive. I didn’t see the point in causing that kind of pain when, as much as Sandra and I might disagree over some things, I knew she’d care for him with all her heart. If I’d been part of his life, if I’d told my family about him, then he’d have to deal with all the crap that comes with being in the spotlight. I thought I’d be in the army most of my life.”

“And then you had to leave the military.” I sucked in my breath. I’d never seen a darker look on X’s face.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

I’d never tried to push my way into the classified records of X’s last mission with special forces. All I knew was that someone on the inside had turned on X’s men, and their intel had been misleading, then nonexistent. X had been targeted as a scapegoat, but his father had intervened.

There’d been tension between X and his father from what I’d pieced together of his history—yes, I’d fucking stalked him—he joined the army because of it, wanting to escape.

Then months after the fucked mission, his father died in a car crash, and he’d come home.

I wanted to know the whole story. Curiosity as much as necessity had led me to hacking in the first place, and it probably would be what got me killed. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I had nine lives—unless X wanted to be my permanent bodyguard. Then I just might.

After a few days in my company, he’d probably be ready to walk away. Most people were.

I polished off my pancakes as the air between us vibrated with tension. Careful not to meet X’s gaze, I refilled my plate with bacon, a mixture of cantaloupe and honeydew, and hash browns.

I felt him watching me, but I didn’t look up, and I didn’t speak. I just ate quietly, my free hand tapping on my leg and my knee bouncing. This was the awkwardness I’d expected to feel with him. I should never have come here. I should never have asked him about his son.

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