“Oh,” Jagger chirps, almost delighted, when he notices my expression. “You’refuckedfucked.”
“Shut up.”
“You’ve got the look.”
“What look?”
“Thelook.”
Hawk chuckles under his breath without looking up from his reports. “He’s not wrong.”
I shove away from the desk and stand.
“You all talk too much,” I snap, “Besides, it’s ludicrous. She’s practically the same age as Gabriel.”
“And?” Jagger counters immediately.
“And,” I repeat slowly, like he’s an idiot, “what business do I have with a nineteen-year-old college kid?”
Hawk finally looks up. “Considering she’s smarter than half the people in this house? Probably more than you think.”
“That’s not helping.”
Jagger shrugs. “She’s an adult, Damon. Not a child.”
“Barely,” I mutter.
The three of them stare at me as Jagger leans against the desk, smirking. “You know what your real problem is?”
“Oh… I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“You’ve met a girl who doesn’t give a shit who you are.”
“Or who youwere,” Hawk adds, nodding in agreement. “And she keeps pushing at you because she knows you’ll push back.”
“That,” Jagger says, pointing at me and mocking mylet-me-explain-it-to-you-like-you’re-an-idiottone, “is called chemistry.”
“Get out.”
Neither of them moves.
Hawk’s lips twitch slightly. “You already care about her.”
And that’s the problem. Not attraction. Not the age difference. Not even the fact she’s now the first face I look for in every room I walk into. It’s that somewhere between the walks around the grounds, the arguments, and the late-night security feeds, Mackenzi stopped feeling like an assignment… And started feeling like someone I couldn’t lose.
I hate that they’re all right, and leave before I have to admit it out loud.
The hallway outside the command center feels cooler and quieter, low lighting casting long shadows across empty marble floors, while rain taps steadily against distant windows.
I should go get some sleep. I’ve been awake for nearly twenty hours. Instead, I start walking patrol, but somewhere between the west corridor and the grand staircase, my feet carry me instinctively toward the east wing.
Toward her.
The mansion sits mostly silent at this hour, the staff having retired and security rotating quietly through shifts outside. Thunder rumbles faintly in the distance as I come to a stop at her door. I stand there, merely staring at it. This is a bad idea.A genuinely terrible one.
I scrub a hand roughly over my jaw before knocking on her door.
The locks click softly on the other side of the door before it opens a few inches. “Murderer or emotionally constipated bodyguard?” Mackenzi asks sleepily, peering through the gap.
