Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“That’s better.” He still didn’t have a smile for me and kept his attention on scrolling the list of videos. “I’m trying to find a good one for relaxing.”

“Are you pissed at me?” I asked as I settled next to him on the rug. It wasn’t in my nature to quietly stew. Better to ask, get this tension gone.

“I’m not mad at you.” Daniel huffed out a little breath. “More like I hate disappointing you. You were trying to be nice. I’m the one who bailed.”

“I’m not disappointed that you didn’t want to learn to shoot.” I scooted closer so I could touch his knee. “But I can’t change who I am.” My voice got harder despite my best efforts. I hated thinking he was repelled by something I considered the very fabric of my being. “What I am. I’m a SEAL. It’s in my blood. I’m not going to pretend to be different or act like I haven’t seen plenty of action.”

“I don’t want to change you.” He flopped his head over to rest on my shoulder. “It just scares me, that’s all.”

Despite his sweet nearness, my whole body went tense and cold. “You’re scared of me?”

“Not of you. For you. I don’t want you hurt.” His voice was so earnest that my heart clenched. When was the last time someone had truly worried about my skin? Danny had known me all of three days and cared more than some who knew me by blood. “I don’t like thinking of you in danger. And you are. Not only in the past but right now. That’s the part I really don’t like. And it’s my stupid fault—”

“None of that talk.” Putting an arm around him, I tucked him in against my side. Funny how damn well he fit there. “It’s not your fault that you have a stalker.”

“I’m the one who can’t stay off social media. I’m the one who made headlines for years. I’m the one who chose badly with the house.”

I gave a frustrated growl. “You chose a place with history that made you feel good. Fuck the headlines. You get to live your life without harassment. And like I was telling your brother, you have your shit together now. That’s what matters, not the past fuckups.”

“You told Duncan that?” Daniel met my gaze with big, grateful eyes, awe in his expression I didn’t deserve. But hell, for him to look at me like that, I’d go to bat for him a thousand more times.

“Yeah. He thinks I should be president of your fan club.”

“I’d allow it.” He winked at me before sobering. “You didn’t…ah…”

“I didn’t tell him we’d messed around.” I squeezed his side. Maybe I was a terrible friend, but I kind of liked having this little secret with Danny. “Like you said, Duncan doesn’t need to know, and I like the idea of keeping my skin a little longer.”

“It’s nice skin.” He stretched to kiss my cheek, eyes sparkling like he was contemplating jumping me again. Certain parts of me were all over that idea, but I also didn’t want him to miss out on the routine that was important to him.

“Let’s do your yoga.” I gestured at the TV.

“I’m picking a shorter one.” He trailed his fingers down my chest before moving away to set the video and get in position for the teacher’s instructions. As before, I was about as limber and elegant as a newborn baby goat, but I had stubbornness on my side. I fought through each posture, managing to keep from toppling over through sheer will. Funny how I could scale obstacles, fling myself from airplanes, and trek miles, but balance eluded me.

But eventually, I stopped thinking about how ridiculous I looked and how my hamstrings didn’t bend, and I got into the flow, listening and breathing until the end of the video snuck up on me. When the music clicked off, a jolt raced up my spine like I’d been startled awake on a plane.

“You’re getting better at this.” Daniel rolled closer to peer into my face. My muscles felt heavy and sleepy. And damn if there wasn’t something to these videos because I was about as relaxed as I could remember. The complete absence of my usual low-level tension made me more aware of other things. Like how blue Danny’s eyes were. The angular lines of his nose and jaw. The curve of his neck. A thousand little places I was dying to kiss.

“You’re trying to sweet-talk me into coming upstairs with you.” I pretended to be reluctant, but my warm laugh gave me away.

“Is it working?” He leaned in for a too-fast kiss.

Like I could lie to him. “Yeah.”

“Come on then.” Scrambling off the floor, he gave me a hand up.

“Wait. I should shower—”

“You’re not that sweaty, and I’m not that patient.” He tugged me over to the ladder, then scampered ahead of me. The low attic room was bigger than it seemed at first, with lots of cupboards and bookshelves lining the lower part of the sloped walls. Big mattress on the floor, heaped with quilts.