Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

I’d never had sweet. Never had this undeniable swell in my chest or the fear of losing something.

I’d fucked around a lot, and that was why I knew this was different.

That she was something special.

I drew back and released her chin. Running my hand over her shoulder to the back of her neck, I weaved my fingers into her thick, long strands.

“I love this,” I murmured.

Her brow twitched with question. “What?”

“This. You in my arms. You’re so damn beautiful.”

Heat rose on her cheeks and it was cute. Alina was confident and sweet, definitely sassy when she wanted to be, but she also had a vulnerability that made her soft. I already knew she had an amazing heart and compassionate soul, as I’d seen her with the kids. She’d even taken to helping some of the kids with learning English.

She was natural and genuine, and I knew how rare that was. And she’d told me about her numbers the other day. It was ridiculous and completely adorable and made me fall for her even more.

One. One. Five.

She’d said it took her one second to know she was attracted to me. I’d grinned at that because that rocked. One hour before I made her laugh until she had tears. That was during our nineteen questions when I went on about hating the color orange. And the number five was five days before she fell for me. That was our bedroom picnic.

I’d asked her when she knew she was in love with me. She told me she’d let me know.

She hadn’t. Not yet. But I’d bet my life it was number twenty-eight, for today, because I sure as hell loved her.

Fuck yeah, I loved her. “Dance with me?” I asked.

I didn’t wait for her response, but swayed with the music, her body pressed up against mine. We moved in perfect rhythm together just like we did in everything. I uncurled her from my arms to twirl her then pulled her back in again.

Jesus. What was I going to do?

I was leaving to join one of the toughest military units in the world. She was going to Miami and then who knew where the magazine would send her next. And if they didn’t keep her on, she’d return to Colombia.

Fuck, I couldn’t let her go. It was completely selfish, but I couldn’t imagine her with anyone else. Just the thought of her with another guy drove me crazy. But I couldn’t expect her to give up her life for me because that was what she’d have to do. She’d be alone for months at a time while I was off on a mission having no idea where I was or if I’d come back alive.

“Connor?” She angled her head to look at me.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Let’s not worry about it tonight.”

And right then I knew I couldn’t do it. I was willing to be a selfish prick and ask her to give up everything for me.

“Can’t do that.” She frowned and I caressed her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “Not until you tell me you won’t go. You’ll stay with me.”

Her eyes widened and she stopped moving to the music. “Connor? What are you saying?”

“I know what we said, that this was temporary, but fuck, I can’t do it. Every day I’m holding on tighter. It doesn’t make sense, me leaving for training, but we can make it work. I can fly with you to Miami. We can see if the magazine can give you a reference and maybe you could work in Toronto. I’ll be gone a while, but I’ll introduce you to my sister and parents, my friends. I can’t let you go, Alina. When I’m gone, I want to know you’re waiting for me. It’s so fuckin’ selfish, but I can’t help it.” My heart raced as I spoke. I hadn’t planned saying this; I just knew it was right. It felt right saying it. “Alina, I love you.” She inhaled, her lips parting. “I know it’s too soon, but I live in the now. I have to because there might not be a tomorrow and that makes this even more selfish of me. But fuck, just please say you’ll stay with me.”

I expected questions or hesitation, or telling me it was fuckin’ crazy, but Alina simply smiled, her eyes filled with tears and she said, “Okay.”

Okay. That was it. And it was the best fuckin’ word I’d ever heard pass anyone’s lips. A simple okay with her in my arms, breathless and beautiful, and now she was fuckin’ mine.

“Twenty-eight,” I said.

She scrunched her nose. “Huh?”

“Your numbers. I want to hear you say it.”

She laughed. “Connor, it’s so silly.”

“I love the silly parts of you, Alina. Tell me.”

She sighed. “Okay. Twenty-eight. It took twenty-eight days for you to man up and tell me you loved me.”