Stina sat alone in the cold little room with her hand still half-curled around the place where his had been.
Somehow, she felt worse than before.
SIX
Big brother energy, his ass.
Even if Jolie’s claim was true, that did not extend to Stina.
Especially Rome’s dreams.
As usual, he was up before the base fully came alive, and he knew the only way to escape his dreams about her was by putting himself through a grueling workout.
He spent the next hour trying not to think about her hot body in various stages of undress. And especially not the way she’d reached for him in the interview room.
She had sought comfort, and for a few minutes, he’d been fool enough to give it to her.
If he hadn’t stepped back when he did, he would’ve done something far more dangerous.
Like kiss her.
He spent another twenty minutes pushing his body to the limits before he gave up and went in search of coffee.
He couldn’t even do that without an edge of force. He shoved the pot into the machine with more force than necessary, causing several of his teammates to look up from their breakfast.
Rome carried his mug to a seat and brooded into his coffee, trying not to notice every little noise echoing through base. But when he heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen, he swung his head up to look at the door.
Townie shot him a look as he entered. “That’s my seat.”
“If we’re playing musical bedrooms, we can play musical chairs too.”
A slow grin spread over Townie’s face. “You’ve got a nice view of the door from there.”
Rome buried his groan in a sip of coffee. But in his effort to look anywhere but at his teammates, he spotted the whiteboard mounted near the refrigerator.
On one side, someone had written the week’s menu and who’d been assigned cooking duty. Any day with Younger’s name next to it meant they could look forward to any meal that could be microwaved. And if it was Rorke’s name, they could expect a tub of protein powder and an order to fix it themselves.
The only good meals they got were thanks to Jolie, but she was busy taking online college courses and didn’t get a lot of extra time to cook for a crowd.
But Rome didn’t care about the week’s menu. What caught his attention more was the other side of the whiteboard where a list of running bets were scribbled, as if Cannon’s ban on gambling never existed.
Rome stared at the first line.
Who gets someone pregnant first: Rome or Monk?
“Who the fuck wrote that?” he snarled.
The guys followed his gaze, and O’s lips twitched. “So you saw the list.”
“I see assholes who think they’re funny, Orvis.”
O chuckled at one of the many stabs they all took at finding out his real name. But he wasn’t saying, and so far none of them had located his file.
Rome skimmed over the rest of the list. There were odds placed on Younger ending up with a brunette on his next leave and odds on Cannon having twins.
“The one about Cannon seems like you’re just trying to give your money away. He’s never going to break Blackout protocol,” Rome said.
A couple guys chuckled. Before he could address the next bet on the list, voices trickled through the door. Despite every effort not to look…
