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“Let me go,” I cry as I pound at his chest.
“I can’t,” he whispers into my hair, holding me tight. “I love you. Let me explain, please. Just come back inside and let me explain.”
“Get away from me!” I sob against his chest, howling-to-the- moon-type sobs wracking my body. How can he be this person? How can I be in love with this person? “You can’t explain this, Ben,” I whisper. “There is nothing you can say to me that will make this better.”
His eyes hold mine, and he brushes the hair back from my face as he tries to think of the right thing to say. “Give me one hour. Neither of us has slept in over twenty-four hours. You’re not safe here alone tonight.”
What? It’s not safe?
Fucking hell, this is one messed-up situation.
I glance back up the hall, towards our room. I do want an explanation, although I know it won’t change anything. But if I don’t get answers now then I may never get them, and I know I will regret not hearing him out at some point in the future. I’ll go back for my safety only. Screw him. There is no excuse he could possibly ever give me.
I pull out of his arms. “Fine. You have one hour, then I leave.”
I walk back to our room and he follows, falling in line beside me. It’s only then that I notice he’s wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist and he’s still dripping wet.
“Where are your clothes?” I snap.
“On the bathroom floor.”
I roll my eyes and my tired, bitchy streak is starting to take over.
We get to the door and he scratches his head.
“Open the door,” I tell him.
“I don’t have a key.” He tries the door handle, but it’s locked.
I look at him, deadpan. “You closed the door without getting the damn key?”
He raises his eyebrows, his face serious. “I was preoccupied.”
“What kind of spy are you? Maxwell fucking Smart?”
A trace of a smile twitches on his face.
I point at him. “Don’t you dare think this is funny, or you will find yourself at the bottom of the stairwell with a broken neck,” I growl. “I’m not even joking, Ben.”
He holds both hands up in surrender. “I’ll find a key, and then I suggest you eat and sleep, because you need to calm down.” He looks up the hall as he thinks.
I narrow my eyes. “No. What I need is to be in love with someone fucking normal.”
He bites his bottom lip as he tries not to smile.
Shit. I just admitted I was in love with him. Shut up, shut up, shut up. “I’m leaving in an hour, so while you stand there doing your fucking cutesy towel routine the clock still ticks, asshole.”
This time he can’t hold it, and a broad smile crosses his face.
I drag the suitcase up to the door and sit down on top of it. “Hurry up. Go and find the damn key,” I huff as I fold my arms over my chest. “If you’re more than ten minutes, I’m leaving.”
“Fine.” He exhales as he looks down at himself.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smirk. If I were a decent person, I would go find the key. Too bad I’m not.
“What are you waiting for? Go!” I snap.
I watch him walk down the hall with a white towel around his waist, and I glare at the floor.
Stupid prick.
He comes back moments later with a key. He unlocks the door and I walk in, while he brings my suitcase in and closes the door behind us.
I sit on the bed and fold my arms again. My anger is bubbling inside of me.
“So, Ben…” I fake a smile. “Please explain to me what the hell happened here tonight.”
He exhales before he begins to pace at the end of the bed. I wait as he pulls himself together, and finally, he replies.
“I work for UNI.”
I stare at him for a moment
Huh? Wait…what? I can hardly focus on what he’s saying because I’m just so tired. “The… what?” I frown.
“United Nations Intelligence.”
I frown. “You work for the government?”
He nods carefully. “I work in the Special Forces Elite Squad.”
“What? ” I screw up my face. “Squad? How many people are in this squad?”
“Twenty-four.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Unfuckingbelievable.
“What you do for UNI?”
His eyes hold mine, and he lifts his chin, as if steeling himself for my reaction. “I take care of national security risks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “And that’s code for killing people?”
“Yes.”
I glare at him. “Wow.”
“I signed a contract three months before I met you.”
I frown again, not understanding. “A contract?”
“You sign on for a five-year contract, just like you do with the army.” He shakes his head. “It was an honour to be offered this position.”
