Page 43 of Until You Can't

The door was cracked open. “Natalia?” I rapped my knuckles against it and waited. “It’s me.”

My heart was in my throat. Forget feeling like a Tier One operator right now, she had me feeling like a nervous teen on a first date. Decades before I took my first life in battle.

“I’m coming in,” I warned her since she’d yet to respond, and I was too impatient to wait.

I pushed the door open with the to-go cup of coffee and closed one eye, a little worried about what I might find.

I relaxed when I noticed the bed was empty, but tensed up again when I heard the shower running in the connecting bathroom.

Hoping to avoid a repeat of three years ago, but this time with her being the naked one, I went to the door and hit it twice with my fist to ensure she heard me.

“It’s Ryan,” I called out.

The shower water turned off a second later. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

Good question. “Your parents sent me up here. Your dad told me to wake you up. I, uh, brought you breakfast.”

“Oh. Give me a second, okay?”

Please tell me you brought a change of clothes in there. I backed away from the door and took a moment to look around her bedroom.

She’d already made her bed, which made my sailor heart happy. And she had an old stuffed blue teddy bear propped up at the center of her pillow.

I set the coffee and bagel on the dresser opposite her bed, and reached for one of the framed photos. She had her niece cradled in her arms. Chiara was probably a day old. “So beautiful.”

“What?”

Yup, it was official. In addition to my stealth mode, my sixth sense had been deactivated. She got the drop on me. My trident should’ve been revoked.

“Your niece. Beautiful,” I rushed out, doing my best to recover as I repositioned the photo back on the dresser.

Considering how quickly she’d left the bathroom, I was nervous to turn around. No way she’d gotten dressed that fast, and I couldn’t handle it if she were only in a robe or towel. “Is it safe to face you?” I flicked my finger at the brown bag, which had her bagel inside.

“Well, I’m not braless in a white tee. Does that answer your question?”

I grinned. “Hardly.”

She grabbed my shoulder, urging me around. “Don’t worry, I know how uncomfortable you get when there’s any nippleage-action going on.”

Nippleage? “You still drunk?” I teased, finally surrendering to the need to turn toward her. Was it a bad sign that it felt like a loss when she let go of me?

My breath hitched once I faced her. “Natalia.” I swiped a hand through my hair and bumped into her dresser. “I hate you.” I frowned, immediately looking toward the window where we shared what could only be described as a “moment” last night. “You love to drive me nuts.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time.”

She was right, she hadn’t lied. Her bra was full coverage. No “nippleage,” but the cut of her panties hadn’t left much to the imagination.

“Yeah, I don’t need you giving me a hard anything.” Well, that sounded absolutely fucking horrible. Damnit.

The vision of her standing there in only her nude-colored bra and matching panties would forever be ingrained in my memory. Not a chance in hell I’d forget that near-glimpse of her pussy, covered by the tiny piece of silk. A piece of silk that would look far better on the floor while I pumped my cock inside her.

And damn, now I was hard.

Somewhere along the way, the girl next door became the woman who drove me crazy. Still drives me crazy.

“I have a robe on now. You can look. But we’re still not even since I’ve had to live with the memory of you naked for the last three years.”

“You’ve been thinking about that day, hmm?” I teased, buying myself some time to lower my heart rate, and the semi I was now sporting.

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