She held up her hand, showing him hers. “Want me to time you?”
“Nah. I’m worn out.”
He didn’t look or sound worn out. Catalina bet he could have beat the record. She struggled not to stare at his incredible musculature. He was flushed from exertion, his nipples rose-pink. If she kissed them, they’d taste like salt and harden under her tongue. She fixed her gaze on his face, but his intensity made her feel like he was reading her mind. She hoped he hadn’t picked up on her fantasy of licking his chest.
Spontaneous combustion is a definite possibility, she thought.
To distract herself, she recounted her day in detail, all the way down to the layout of the corridors. When she finished, she asked, “Learn anything useful?”
“It’s all useful. Sooner or later, they’ll have to let me out of here.” He went to the bathroom, toweled off, and put his shirt back on.
Oh, well, she thought. The view was nice while it lasted. Anyway, he’s less distracting now.
He began to pace the room, restless power in every line of his body. Like a caged animal. Like his panther. His frustration was palpable, infecting her as well. She’d lose her mind if she’d been locked up alone all day in a tiny room with no TV, no books, no music, no games, no pen and paper, no nothing— not even a view.
To distract him and herself, she said, “I see we got some new MREs.”
He stopped pacing and picked them up. “Yeah. I hope they’re grabbing them randomly, then maybe we’ll get some different entrees. The pork and rice was my favorite.”
His hope was dashed when they sat down to eat them and discovered that it was once again chicken glop and beef glop. Catalina picked the beef glop for a change, only to discover that it tasted exactly the same as the chicken glop. But she enjoyed being with Shane as much as she had the night before, and that made up for the disgusting food.
He pointed to the one component of her MRE that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to try, a “snack bar” that looked like gray cardboard. “Are you going to eat that?”
“It’s a sacrifice, but I’ll let you have it. Whatever it is.”
She flipped it to him. He caught and ate it, though he didn’t seem to enjoy it.
“What’s it taste like?” she asked.
“Something,” he replied, deadpan.
Catalina grinned. “I guess conditions aren’t that bad, considering that we were kidnapped. I mean, we could have a bucket instead of a bathroom.”
“Yeah, we’re living in style,” Shane remarked. “I’ve done way worse.”
“Me too,” Catalina said, then added, “Not worse than you, I’m sure.”
“Ellie said you were living out of a tent for months in Loredana.”
“Well, yeah. But not in a combat zone.”
“In a disaster zone. Ellie told us all how you crawled into a building that could have collapsed at any second.”
“Just doing my job.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Shane remarked. “What I heard was that you were all ordered to stay out until the bracing equipment arrived, but you disobeyed orders and went in anyway.”
“Only when we found out that the equipment wouldn’t arrive for hours,” Catalina protested. “I had to go in— a man was bleeding to death.”
Shane’s level blue gaze met hers. “I know. You went above and beyond the call.”
“Oh.” Now she could see the sincere admiration in his eyes. It moved her; unexpectedly, she found her eyes prickling, as if she might cry.
This is the respect you’ve always wanted, she thought. If a PJ thinks you went above and beyond, that really means something.
But it wasn’t just because Shane was a PJ. It was because he was Shane. She cared about what he thought of her, not as a PJ, but as a person. She wanted him to respect her— wanted him to like her— wanted him to care about her in a way that he didn’t and never would—
The prickling increased. Catalina hastily lowered her gaze, letting her hair swing forward to hide her face, and pulled a piece of something apart with a fork.