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MASON
If ever there was a perfect storm of complete and utter bullshit, this situation would qualify.
She is a constant distraction. Not that it’s entirely her fault. She lingers in my thoughts no matter how I try to distract myself by focusing on work. It’s no use. She’s always there, lingering on the edges, making me impatient and frustrated since I can’t be with her. Because I want to be with her in the first place. It’s unfortunate, but there’s no pretending I don’t have a weakness for her. Which is all the more reason for me to steer clear.
What a shame it’s not that easy. Good thing I’m used to being busy and working for hours at a stretch, sometimes surviving with next to no sleep. I can wait her out. I can bury myself in work until the apartment is silent, and I know she’s asleep in my bed.
I don’t have to pretend to be fixated on work, either. Two days later, I’m still no closer to knowing who is threatening Jase’s life and Teagan’s by association. If I could put the puzzle together, this would all be over. I could go back to something resembling my normal routine. I crave it. I crave the consistency and the discipline. It’s one of the reasons I became a SEAL. It’s one thing to want to serve your country and all that, but it takes a certain breed of maniac to put themselves through what a SEAL does. But I loved it. I thrived in that environment. And now, everything is up in the air. I don’t like that. It makes me irritable and jumpy, which is only worsened by the lack of sleep. Because it’s not bad enough I have to wait for Teagan to fall asleep. I also have to be out of bed before she wakes up.
I can’t help but laugh at myself as I sit behind my desk, waiting her out. She’s not the Big Bad Wolf. She’s no threat. The way I’m bending over backward to avoid her, however, tells a different story. I don’t dare tell Griffin about the new routine my life has settled into—he would laugh himself sick if he knew I was basically hiding from the girl.
What’s the alternative? Facing her never-ending stream of questions? Questions I can’t answer since I’m no closer than before to identifying the threat and neutralizing it. I’m supposed to be good at that, too, but all my training is failing me now.
It’s past midnight by the time I slowly open the door, lifting it slightly to make sure the hinges don’t squeal and give me away. You pussy. Yes, that’s what I am, a pussy with his heart in his throat, hoping the defenseless girl I can’t trust on her own is sleeping. The lights are out, and there’s no glow coming from the bedroom door. I’m goddamn exhausted to the point where I’m craving sleep like a drug, and that’s what propels me into the bedroom.
She’s curled up in her customary ball, the blankets pulled up to her shoulder. I take one careful step after another, holding my breath like the coward I am when it comes to her while I tiptoe around, getting undressed, not bothering to find pajamas since I’m not in the habit of wearing them, anyway. No need to be modest. Once I’m down to my shorts, I slide into bed. There’s an ocean between us, but that’s how it has to be. I’ve already gotten too close to her. I can’t risk getting closer.
“So that’s how you do it.”
Son of a bitch.
I haven’t even closed my eyes, and there she is, hurling what is probably supposed to be an accusation in a fully awake, clear voice. She was faking.
“How I do what?” I mutter, staring into the darkened room, my back to her.
“How you manage to come and go without me ever seeing you. Because you creep around like a thief or something.”
“I know how to be quiet when I need to. Sue me for caring whether or not you get your rest.”
“Oh, that is bullshit, and we both know it.” I hear her behind me, rolling over, punching the pillow while she’s at it. “You’re avoiding me. Why don’t we just call it what it is?”
“If it makes you feel better, go ahead. I’m avoiding you. Happy?”
“Is that what you’re actually doing?”
“You tell me, Teagan,” I murmur with a sigh. “It seems like you already have all the answers.”
“Sure. Be a dick. Turn this all around on me. You’re good at that.”
“It is much too late to have this discussion, so I suggest—”
“To hell with you and your suggestions. It’s too late to have this conversation? Well, then why don’t you try showing your face around here during normal hours? How about you don’t leave me on my own all day and all night with no explanation, no hint of what’s going on, no idea when this is going to end.”
