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Zane struggled to bring focus to his jumbled thoughts. He trudged from the glass building, toward his truck at the back of the business-center parking lot. Another interview down.
Fuck. He wanted to yell into the wide open space. All the people coming and going might not appreciate that, and the last thing he needed was to make his situation worse.
He’d been doing great in there, as far as he could tell. Getting along with the panel of interviewers, comprised of a manager and several peers. He’d aced all the technical questions. They were a little easy, but he couldn’t be picky at this point. Then the manager asked about on-the-job experience, digging for details. Zane gave them as much as he could. The way the conversation closed off after that point told him it wasn’t enough.
Maybe he’d hear back from them. He doubted it. His mood shifted another notch closer to irritated when he saw the woman leaning against his truck. Slacks. Long legs. Black hair pulled into a tight bun. His former commanding officer... And ex-girlfriend.
A rush of images surged into his thoughts. Plaguing. Taunting. Tormenting. Digging into his core, until the graphic images and guilt threatened to devour him. He swallowed down the memories her presence summoned, pasted a cool smile in place, and paused when he was within conversation distance. “Sabrina.”
She pushed away from the truck, and gave him full salute. “You wear the suit well, Sergeant.”
The formality burrowed under his calm. “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t returning my calls, so I’m trying a new approach.” Her tone was pleasant and smooth. He knew the voice—it was the one she used when tried to coax something out of someone. To figure out how they ticked. To glean enough to shift the conversation in her favor.
He wasn’t interested in letting that happen. “And if you track me down, say, in front of a potential employer’s office, rather than at home, you figure I’ll be polite. I’ll rephrase my question. How did you find me here?”
“I’m a spy.” A tiny smile danced on her lips, and a giggle laced her words.
A few years ago, he fell for the act. He knew better now. “I have someplace else to be.”
“If you were me, how would you have found you?” Her tone went flat, and the teasing vanished.
He ticked through a mental list of the options. She might have used the same methods they did back then, when they worked together. Gotten to know a friend of his and dragged out enough information to penetrate his computer. His ego wouldn’t let him believe that could slip by him. “GPS on my phone.”
“See? This is child’s play for you. How’d the interview go?”
He stepped around her. “Have a nice day, Captain.”
“The job won’t be on the table much longer.”
He paused with his hand on the door of the truck. “Which is fine. My answer hasn’t changed.”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. Coffee, conversation, catching up... It’ll be like old times.”
He clenched his jaw at the fresh wave of old times memories. Not just the results of his actions, but the relationship he had with her. “Not interested. If this is a limited-time offer, pull it now and go find someone else. Unless there’s a reason you want it to be me.”
Her bitter chuckle was enough to draw his gaze, and he turned to face her again. She clucked. “Check your ego at the door, Sergeant. You’re not the best. Not anymore. But you’re still incredible, and your motivations go beyond cash.” The word incredible rolled off her tongue with smooth sensuality.
He never should have gotten involved with her. “Most people know that about me.”
“Fine. I’ll drop the pretenses. You’re not going to find better somewhere else. This position will push your limits and give you access to top-secret technology. And don’t bother playing the morals card. We both know that’s a fuzzy line for you. If you’d walk away from your unrealistic fantasy of a civilian life, you could admit you’re perfect for the kind of work I’m proposing.”
“I’m not.” He yanked the car door open harder than he intended. “The answer’s still no. Have a good afternoon.”
His hand shook as he started the truck and backed out of its spot. The confrontation wasn’t a big deal. A stilted conversation, at worst. Her words haunted him though. The certainty he’d cave again. That regardless of how hard he tried to convince himself he wasn’t that man, her offer was more tempting than ever. Not only because he couldn’t find work, but because she was right. It would push his limits. He’d gain so much experience.
He stowed his doubt under familiar reassurances. There was no reason for him to go back to that. He’d learned that lesson. The words repeated in his head as he drove home, running round and round until he believed them.
* * * *
THE FAMILIAR SCENTS of paper and glass cleaner greeted Riley when she pushed into the comic store. Archer looked up from his spot across the room the moment the door chimed, and his smile grew when he saw her.
“Hey.” His greeting was warm.
“Hey, yourself.”
His smile wilted a little. “You’re not here for me.”
Guilt that it was so obvious tickled her senses. She could at least make small talk. “I didn’t say that. What’s up?”
He shook his head and stepped aside. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. He’s upstairs.”
“Archer.” She reached out but dropped her hand before it connected with him. What was she going to say? She couldn’t give him false hope. An apology didn’t sound appropriate, since she hadn’t done anything wrong.
He stepped farther away. “No big deal. I have work to do anyway.”
Relief at the quick reprieve made her guilt grow, and she wove her way through the store and toward the back stairs without much more than a quick goodbye. She should have gone through the back entrance and avoided Archer altogether, but old habits died hard.
She still struggled with feeling bad about not feeling bad for brushing Archer off when she knocked on Zane’s door.
“’S open.”
She pushed inside, latched the door shut behind her, and flipped the lock into place. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her it might be a good idea.
Zane stood at the opposite end of the room in the kitchen area, leaning against the counter near the sink, and eating a Popsicle. He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Do anything for you, baby?”
Some of her tension evaporated at the display. She laughed and crossed the room. “Are you saying you’re interested in letting me watch you lick phallic things?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” She pushed out her lower lip. Stepping forward, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and sucked the sweet slowly into her mouth, devouring the entire length before pulling back with a slurp. A low groan tore from his throat. She licked her lips, eyes wide and—she hoped—innocent, as she looked at him again.
He tossed the Popsicle in the sink. “You’re evil. Like a hundred and twenty percent.”
She stepped away, thumbs in her pockets, tugging down the waistband of her jeans. “Are you complaining?”
“Not even close.” He nudged her toward the couch and nodded at the laptop on the coffee table. “Watch with me.”
She dropped onto the futon next to him, her arm brushing his. “What are we watching?” She blinked and looked a second time. He wasn’t. Really?
Thin, animated girls, with Crayola-colored hair and skirts so short they didn’t even cover their asses, battled evil cartoon villains. “Why are you watching Sailor Moon?”
“I wanted to see something.”
“The subtle lesbian subtext?” She knew a lot of people loved the show and considered it their introduction to anime—Japanese cartoons—but she’d never been able to get into it.
“Honestly...” He shifted in his seat and rested his arm on the back of the couch, his attention on her. “It’s really a more in-your-face kind of thing. Also, I was thinking about how cool it would be if that were your stuff. Can you imagine them animating your drawings?”
She could. She had. “It’s still an excuse.”
He shrugged. “It is. I was bored. I didn’t know what you’d want to watch, so I grabbed something I thought might make me laugh.”
She leaned her head on his arm, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. “Did it work?”
“Absolutely. It’s hilarious. You should try it.”
She twisted her mouth. He knew how she felt about the show.
He pulled his arm away so he could turn back to the laptop screen, but settled his hand on her leg. “Give it a try, keeping in mind you’re supposed to laugh.”
She rested her fingers on his. Had they always been this physical and intimate, even as friends? The question came from nowhere, and she pushed it aside. “All right. I’ll try.”
He glanced at her. “Just remember, if any of the intense battles get to be too much, I’m here for you.”
“You’re such a gentleman like that.”
Intense battles. Dork. Still, it gave her an idea. He let his attention drift back to the show, and she did the same. Her opportunity was coming soon. The music and creepy feeling on the screen helped the cartoon-tension build.
The moment the villain burst onto the scene, flamboyant and sparkling with black glitter, she screamed and buried her face in his chest.
He jumped. “Holy shit.” His heart beat out a frantic rhythm. “You scared the crap out of me.”
She laughed, face against his ribs. Warmth seeped into her ear, as she listened to his racing heart. She inhaled softly, breathing in the comforting scent of body wash and deodorant. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound remotely apologetic. “You sure you’re not the one who needs a place to hide?”
“I’m good like this.” His voice took on a husky tone, and he trailed his fingers through her hair.
She pulled away, retort catching in her throat when she saw the way he watched her. Heat spread over her face. She adjusted her weight on the futon, turning to face him. Snippets of the day before flashed through her mind, making her body tingle. She kissed him, not resisting when he ran his hands up her arms and then held her in place by the back of her neck.
She broke away, loving the question and want in his eyes. Smirking, she trailed her finger down the side of his face. She shifted into his lap and straddled his legs. “Getting comfortable.”
He moved his hands to her lower back, pulled her close, and returned the kiss, scraping her bottom lip with his teeth and not letting her go.
She pressed her chest against his, their thin tees not providing much of a barrier. His heat mingled with the brush of fabric on her nipples, and she moved against him to build the friction.
He slid his hands to her ass, making her arch her back. She broke away long enough to look him in the eye, her breath coming out in needy bursts. “We seem to be making a habit of this.”
He nipped at her lower lip, and then glided his mouth down her jaw, until his lips found the hollow at the base of her neck. “It’s because you’re so addictive.” His words vibrated against her skin.
Desire thrummed through her, leaving every nerve ending screaming for more. Heat pulsed between her legs. She didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but she had to know what this was. It would be all right. He’d confirm they were still friends and give her a hint of where this was going, and they could keep making out. “For how long?”
“I don’t... I mean...” He pulled away, uncertainty marring his smile.
That’s not how he was supposed to respond. She went rigid. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
A frown slipped in to obliterate his amusement. “We’re just fooling around. That was the deal.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her heart thudded in her chest like a rock grinding against her ribs.
“I didn’t realize things had evolved. Do you want more?”
Why had she let her heart wander down this path? He was supposed to be happy about the question. Tell her he felt the same way. That she wasn’t the only one falling hard and fast.
Wait. Falling? She knew better than to attach herself to a guy because she slept with him. “Of course not. Forget I brought it up.” She extracted herself from his lap and stood in front of him.
“Riley.” He grasped her fingers, holding her in place.
She stared down at him, hating the hope that surged inside and mingled with desire. Did this mean more than flirting and getting off? Would he say it?
He looked away, dropping her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”
Damn it. Hurt throbbed in every muscle. It really was a game to him. “It’s cool. Friends with benefits—that’s all this is.” She shifted from one foot to the other, frowning deeper when she caught a glimpse of something leaning against the far wall. How had she missed that before? “Is that my sketchpad?” She grabbed her beloved book, her confusion growing.
“You kept forgetting to pick it up.”
“You changed the subject when I asked for it.”
“You didn’t complain at the time.”
Too many flavors of frustration and hurt flowed through her, for her to focus on any single one. “And I’m not now. Except, you know, for the whole distracting-me thing. Speaking of which, we’re talking about my sketchpad, not the ways you distracted me from it.”
“Is this how it usually happens? You hide how you really feel, until you spill it all at once, and then expect the guy to respond immediately, or you take it all back? Is this what happened last time?”
How dare he throw Archer or anyone else back in her face? After everything she told him in confidence, the accusation stung like lemon juice in an open wound. “You really think that little of me?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m not the one who hasn’t dared get close to someone since his fiancée left him. Oh, wait, and the Air Force girlfriend you loved so much, whom you never mention. Ever.”
“Because your track record with men is so fantastic.” His tone was flat.
She felt like she’d been socked in the gut with every concern she had about her love life, everything she hoped no one else saw, but knew they did. “Why are you doing this?”
He met her toe-to-toe, something new flashing in his eyes. “Maybe I’m trying to piss you off.”
She choked on a response as a fresh wash of hurt seeped into her. “Excuse me?”
“Maybe”—his tone was snide, but pain still filled his eyes—“I’m trying to push you away.” As the words tumbled past his lips, he worked his jaw up and down and frowned. “Pissing you off and letting you make the decision to leave is a lot easier than telling you to go.”
She swallowed the pang in her throat. “Why do you want me gone?”
“Because you deserve better, Riley. We’re walking this impossible line, pretending the sex is just physical, ignoring that we’ve never been just friends, and you need more than I can give you.”
Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that. But when she thought about it, he’d been dropping the hints all along. “Why are you so convinced you don’t deserve me?”
His laugh was bitter and choked as he scrubbed his hand over the stubble on the top of his head. “You think I’m this good, kind person, and I’m not.”
“Why not? Is it because of what your granddad said? I know you love the man, but he’s not right about that. You’re not evil. What the hell does that even mean?”
He sank on the edge of the futon, clenching and loosening a fist. His hand shook. “I didn’t turn down the surveillance job when I found out what I was doing. I didn’t walk away in some huff of indignation, spouting bullshit about moral gray areas. I stayed.”
Riley knew there was more, but he wasn’t giving her enough to figure out what made that so bad. “You were military, and it was your job.”
“No.” He dropped his head into his hands and dragged in a stuttered breath. “They gave me an out. Told me I could be transferred. Go do something else. I liked the challenge. Okay, sure, I was violating a few people’s privacy.” He tightened his jaw and flared his nostrils. “But I’m not stupid. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else, and I was pushing my boundaries—doing things I’d never done before. I could make all the excuses in the world for why I stayed, but that was what it came down to.”
Acid churned in her gut, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she hadn’t thought out. “But you left eventually, right?”
“Yeah.” He was turned in her direction, but he didn’t see her. “I did. When I saw the first news stories, I ignored them. Hidden headlines in local papers, about a couple of the people we’d gathered intel on. Their deaths. The accidents. The car crash, or boating trip gone wrong, that took them and their entire family.”
She leaned her arm on the table, to support herself. “That doesn’t mean it was your fault.”
“It was. I looked deeper after the third accident. Found hints our information led to the decision. I asked Sabrina about it, and she confirmed. What we’d helped uncover took those people out of the picture.”
Numbness filled Riley. “It’s not like you pulled the trigger.”
“I might as well have.” He finally focused on her again. “Entire families died because I wanted to be challenged. I found that information. I dug until it happened. That’s why I don’t deserve you. That’s why you need to leave.”
She opened her mouth, but words failed her.
“I don’t want you here, Riley.” His voice took on a hard edge. “I don’t want you in my life. We don’t mean anything. What we did was just sex. Me being selfish. Using you.”
“Bullshit.” She still didn’t know what to do with his confession, but he couldn’t take this from her. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted the sex. I want you.”
“You think that, but it’s not true. Let’s be honest. You don’t know what you want.” The waver in his gaze and the way he turned away as he spoke told her he didn’t believe his own words.
That didn’t stop them from burrowing under her skin and gnawing at her frayed threads of composure. “You don’t really think that.”
A pause dragged between them, before he said, “Of course I do. No one knows you better than me. It doesn’t matter if I think you’re awesome or amazing, you don’t believe it, and your opinion of you is all that matters. Go home. Don’t call me again. Find someone else to fuck with your life.”
“Zane.”
“Leave.”
She wanted to argue, but the strength wasn’t there. This was too much at once. She couldn’t process anything but how intensely it all hurt. She spun away without another word. It took the last of her restraint to hold back the torrent of tears as she stormed from the room. At least she didn’t pass Archer anywhere between the apartment and the back door. She couldn’t have handled the most basic human interaction just then.
She made it to her car and collapsed in the front seat before the tears took over. Sobs wracked her body, and she hugged herself tight, trying to keep from shaking apart. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, grateful for the cool morning. Every inch of her psyche hurt. Zane’s words echoed in her head, gnawing at every insecurity she had. And then his confession—what was she supposed to do with that? Too many questions assaulted her for her to focus on anything.
On top of it all, instead of telling him she didn’t hold his actions against him, instead of staying and comforting him like she always promised she’d do, she’d wrapped self-pity around her and left. He carried this massive burden, and she was in her car, crying because he knew the same truth about her that everyone else did.
But she couldn’t go back and apologize. He didn’t want her there, and she didn’t know if she was strong enough to argue.
What was she supposed to do? No experience in her entire life gave her a hint for how to handle something like this.