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Belligerence distorted her features and she shoved him with a level of strength he hadn’t expected. He nearly ended up on the ground. “You asshole!”
He caught himself on the edge of the desk, swinging his upper body around and accidentally brushing her nose with his.So, so close. His breath hitched for half a second and then he straightened. “Okay, maybe I deserved that, but it’s true.” He managed to stand on his two feet and plastered on his best glare as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Ask Vivi. She’ll tell you.”
“I can’t believe this.” Sliding off, she wobbled, but when he reached to steady her, she jerked out of his grip. “I know I suck at flirting, but I’ve done everything I can to show you that I—”
A knock at the door interrupted and they both glanced in that direction.
Who the fuck?
“What?” Rory barked.
“Everything all right in there?” It was Ash. “We heard a crash. Do you two need help?”
“No we don’t fucking need help. We’re not invalids!”
Rory felt Amelia’s hand cup his shoulder, attempting to pacify his temper. “Thanks for checking on us,” she called. “I accidentally knocked some books off my desk is all.”
“Okay.” There was an awkward, too-long pause, as if the men were debating whether to push or relent, then, “See you later.”
When they’d moved off, Rory drew a breath and faced her. “We’re both tired and not at our best. Let’s take a break, regroup, discuss this tomorrow. Okay?”
Hurt shone in her eyes and there was nothing he could think of to take that away. “It’s not okay,” she said, heading for the door. “But I’m not wasting my breath.”
He caught up to her, taking her arm and placing it around his waist. “You have to keep weight off that foot,” he insisted over her protests. “If you don’t follow the doctor’s orders, I’ll report you to Beatrice.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“Youarean asshole.”
It would have smarted if her voice had still held rancor. “Never claimed I wasn’t.” He helped her across the threshold and closed the door behind them. “Seven days.”
That sparked curiosity. “For what?”
“I want you to give yourself—us—seven days. Allow yourself to process what happened. Talk to Vivi, take care of your ankle. If you still want to…” What should he call it? Date? Fuckin’ A. “If you want a relationship, I’m all in. We’ll start slow and build up. See where it goes.”
She was quiet as they imitated snails on their return to the Ops room. The silence felt like razors in his stomach. Would she agree? Tell him to fuck off?
He led her to his quarters, flipping on a light as they entered. “You’re the reason I can do this.” He eased her into his favorite recliner, glad that it was clear of clothes and dirty dishes. He often ate and slept in it.
She sighed as she sunk into the cushions. Tiredness seemed to weigh every movement. “Do what?”
“Move like this.” He gathered a blanket and showed her how to operate the buttons to get the chair to recline, then laid the cover over her. “Get some sleep. I’ll check on you in a little while.”
She gripped his arm to stop him from leaving. “Rory.”
“Want me to bring you some water? Your pain meds?”
“No, I don’t need any of that. I agree to the seven day thing, but I want a reward for it.”
He placed his hand over her much smaller one. “Anything.”
“Go with me to Hannah’s fundraiser Thursday night.”
He stuttered, cursing himself. “I know it means a lot to you, but you should stay here, out of the limelight.”
The corners of her eyes creased as she narrowed them at him. “Why?”
