Mygod, he’s a beast.
She didn’t want to gawk, so she flicked her gaze to the treadmill dashboard. After increasing her speed, she glanced around the room.
A middle-aged couple walked in. The woman offered a pleasant smile as she stepped on the treadmill next to her. Brit kept increasing her speed until she was pushing herself hard. When she finished running, she wiped down the machine, moved on to the weights. She loved how energized she felt after she’d done something physical.
When they finished, they rode the elevator in a thundering silence while the air grew thick with tension. As they entered his condo, her heart felt heavy, like he was pushing her away just when she was dropping her walls.
They showered. Separately.
In Denver, she’d been lonely a lot of the time, but there, at least, she had a place to live. Here, she felt like a nomad.
As she started prepping for dinner, she acknowledged that she’d made a catastrophic mistake by moving into his condo.
Addison was right.
Rebel pulled up alongside her. “Put me to work, boss.”
She assigned him potato duty. They got the sautéed chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed green beans done in short order, but being with him felt awkward and stilted.
“I was thinking we could work through dinner,” she said, placing her plate on the island.
“I could use your eyes on a cold case I’m workin’,” he replied.
Joaquin
It’s notlike Rebel didn’t have feelings for Brit. It’s not like he didn’t love having her there, but he’d walled himself off for so long, he wasn’t sure how to lower his defenses and let her in.
If he didn’t, he’d lose her.
He was waging a full-on war with himself. He was falling in love, but concerned they were moving rocket-fast. Unfortunately, he picked the worst possible moment to suggest they slow down.
After setting his dinner plate on the counter, he logged in to his laptop, before taking a few bites of chicken.
“This is great,” he said.
“It’s super easy,” she replied. “I can give you the recipe.”
“I don’t want the recipe,” he said before stroking her back. “I want you.”
She stilled, her water glass in midair. “I can’t. We’re partners. I’m gonna move out as soon as I can.”
“I’m not talking about sex. I like being around you, Britain.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
While that should have made him feel better—she had, in fact, given him an out—it didn’t.
I gotta tell her.
He fucking hated talking about it.
Later.
“Why don’t you show me the case?” she asked.
“My dad was a Special Agent with the Bureau,” he began. “At some point, he started working cases undercover. He was gunned down in a convenience store parking lot one night. The perp was never found. No arrests were made. The police said it was random, but my dad wasn’t robbed and his car wasn’t stolen. My gut tells me it had to do with his last case, but I could never get permission to work it.”
She nodded.
