The King (Gentlemen Rogues 2)

“Yup."

“You don't want to come down after the mission debrief? That was stressful on all of us."

"Nope." It seemed one-word answers were all I was getting out of him.

I frowned at him. “Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing is fucking wrong."

I squared my shoulders. "Lock, maybe we should—"

"Let me stop you right there. You're going to say something about 'Hey, we should talk.’ There's nothing to talk about. We did what we had to do for the mission. That's done now. We're safe."

I jerked as if slapped. There were many other agents milling about, so I lowered my voice and deliberately kept my distance. “Do you want to actually have a conversation about this, or are you going to go off and sulk?"

He smirked. “I think I’m going to opt for sulking. Except in my case, it won't be sulking." He leaned forward then. “I'll be too busy pondering why the woman I haven't been able to get out of my head for fucking weeks is the entire reason I’m here. You and I have fucked before." A cold wash of tension and anxiety slipped over my body, like a suit coating me in electrified jelly. I gasped and his silvery gaze searched mine. “Deny it. Go ahead."

When I couldn't, he smirked and nodded. “Yeah, so instead of shooting you, I’m going to go shoot a target, and we'll pretend it never happened."

All I could do was stand there. The shock of it hitting me, word for word. You and I have fucked before. He knew.

And like my worst nightmare, he assumed I’d done it on purpose.

* * *

Lachlan

Two hourslater and I still hadn’t calmed down. I lined up my targets and fired, trying to put all my focus and my anger to directing exactly where that bullet was going to go.

I couldn't talk to her. Not yet.

The things I had to say, I couldn't take back.

Or maybe you'll beg her to take you back.

Nope. For weeks now, she'd lied to me. We had definitely shagged. She was lying. Pretending she didn’t know me, pretending I didn’t know exactly how her pussy tasted.

So there was nothing to say. Nothing to do except to stay the fuck away from her. No matter what I did, I was still going to be haunted by the dream of her. Because life wasn't fair. I finally gave a shit about someone else since Charlie died, and it turned out she was a liar.

But at least I could have some semblance of sanity. Fucking hell. What had I done to deserve this? For weeks, we'd been training together. We'd been getting close.

Or maybe only you thought you were getting close.

Maybe she wasn't getting close at all. Maybe she was doing her damn job.

All the scenarios ran through my head, every single one, as I tried to force an outcome. But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Saff laughing, smiling at me, rolling her eyes, doing that pursed-lip thing that she did when she was trying really hard not to laugh at me.

The more I focused on her, the more I could see snippets of me and her in my flat. I’d danced with her. I had fed her cake? Frustrated, I blasted my last bullet into the target and then dragged my headphones off as I called it forward. Waiting for the sheet, already knowing that half of my bullets had gone wide.

I needed to get a handle on this. If I couldn't get a handle on my emotions, I was screwed.

“You are certainly in a mood, aren't you?"

I frowned at the sound of a familiar voice. "Agent Smith."

"Oh, shut up. Call me Tabatha."

"Tabatha, anything I can do for you?"