6

“It’s been two weeks and you haven’t said a word about your prized pupil. We’re dying here,” Luke said when Chase returned home from a pavement-punishing eight-mile run.

Aiden lowered the boxes of pizza he was carrying onto the round wooden table that sat between their living room and kitchen. They never ate at the table. Hell, they rarely ate all at the same time. But Luke had beers and Aiden had pizza, and Chase recognized an ambush when he saw one.

It was his birthday after all and even though his roommates knew better than to mention it specifically, they had apparently decided not to just let it pass by completely, the way Chase preferred.

Damn Luke and his smooth-talking, tell-me-all-your-secrets shit. Chase had spilled his guts to Luke last weekend when he couldn’t sleep. Divulging the truth about what had happened with Viv—Private Brooks—had almost felt good, but then Aiden had walked in, and he’d had to retell the scandalous story, minus the details he would forever keep to himself. It almost felt like he’d betrayed her confidence. But the shit was keeping him up at night and getting it off his chest had provided a modicum of relief.

“At least give us an update on how it’s going,” Luke prompted. “Have you addressed the issue with her? Or with your CO? I mean, it’s not like you slept with a subordinate intentionally.”

Too exhausted from a full day on base and his run to argue, Chase dropped into a chair and popped the top from an amber bottle of Yuengling. His favorite beer—another sign they were working him over for info.

“Every day I spend four hours in a classroom trying not to think of how good she felt, of every sound she made. I try not to fucking inhale near her so I don’t get a whiff of her scent and turn into a goddamn bloodhound. Then I spend another two hours training her in a lab barely as big as this room on how not to blow herself and everyone around her up while my brain calculates the many, many scenarios in which I could carry her off and ravish her caveman-style in every possible location on base.” Chase took a long pull from his bottle while his roommates let that sink in. “So how do you think it’s going?”

Aiden shook his head. “That’s rough, man.”

Chase grunted. Bitching about things wouldn’t make the situation any better. He’d learned that lesson long ago. In this case, there was literally no solution that involved him getting what he wanted. All he could do was white-knuckle it through the next nine weeks and pray she got stationed somewhere far, far, from his reach.

Luke let out a low whistle as he retrieved a grease-covered piece of meat lover’s from the cardboard box. “So she wasn’t just a quick fuck then, right? Tell me you realize this.”

Chase shrugged. “Does it matter? I’m her CO, Foster. You know what that means.”

Luke’s brows lowered. “I’m just saying, obviously you’re into her and you already know you’re physically compatible. Clearly you have shared interests, which is why she’s in your unit. So other than obtaining clearance from your CO or having the patience to wait until she’s not under your command, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Physically compatible and shared interests? You planning to start a matchmaking website?” He gave Luke a hard time but all of this had already occurred to Chase. On a daily basis. Vivien Brooks was damn near perfect. He knew no one was perfect, but she was perfect for him. He picked at his pizza like a chick on a first date.

“Just saying,” Luke answered, unfazed.

“Thanks for the analysis.” Luke wasn’t entirely wrong. But there were plenty of problems. The main one being he had to wrestle with the urge to grab her and demand answers from her pouty pink lips every day. “But you’re forgetting one major element, Foster.”

Luke tossed him a smug smirk over his beer. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Chase swallowed his meaty, cheesy bite along with his pride. “She’s not into me, apparently. It was a one and done and she hasn’t so much as looked at me twice since.”

“I call bullshit,” Luke said on a laugh. “Women are just better at being subtle than men. My money says she’s already imagined fucking you in that classroom half a dozen ways to Sunday but you’re oblivious.”

“Call it what you want,” Chase said with a shrug. “But she’s either not into me or a fortress of steel, because I’m telling you, she hasn’t batted an eyelash and we spend hours talking about explosives. Detonating, release, and so on. It’s inadvertently sexual enough that I picture her . . . well, none of your fucking business what I picture. But she is the perfect student. She answers every question correctly, follows protocol like a damn robot, and not once has she so much as flinched when I’ve been within touching distance.” He shoved his pizza away, having lost his appetite. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I imagined the major attraction between us.”

“Maybe you were a lousy lay,” Aiden offered through a mouthful of pizza.

Chase slugged him hard in the arm. “I was an amazing lay, motherfucker. She just . . .”

She’d come. Twice. Said it was the best dream ever. But he’d woken up alone.

Somehow she’d twisted him into a pretzel and mind-warped him into some role-reversal shit where he was the woman sitting around bitching with his girlfriends about why she never called and she was the dude pretending what had happened hadn’t meant shit.

Maybe it hadn’t to her. She’d told him it was a one-night fling and she’d more than proved that she’d meant it. It was a depressing thought. With every other woman, he’d hoped for a clean break. No complications. Now, for once in his life, Chase wanted complicated. He wanted to know what kind of music she liked. What her favorite food was. What pissed her off. What made her laugh. What made her her.

Aiden took a long swallow of his beer. “Annalise is coming for a visit next weekend. Maybe some female perspective would help.”

Chase raised his eyebrows suggestively at Aiden.

“On your situation, dickhead. Not on whether or not you’re a lousy lay,” Aiden clarified. “Touch my sister and it’ll be the last thing you do with both hands attached to your body. Might be kind of hard to defuse IEDs without hands.”

Chase laughed but his eyes met Luke’s across the table. Something akin to worry forced the other man’s gaze away.

Well, well, Chase thought to himself. Maybe old Silver Tongue has some secrets of his own.

That night Chase lay awake contemplating his options.

He needed answers. He had ideas about how to get them. But there were lines and limits and professional protocols he should follow.

The first two weeks were mostly classroom and lab training. The next six would be in the field in open scenarios. More space to distance himself from Vivien Brooks. Or . . . he tried not to picture it, but it was too late. More space could mean more time alone with her without an audience.

His dick twitched in response to the suggestive thought.

Time alone with her was far more dangerous than any combination of explosives.