GUNNER
Itake my time in the kitchen, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. I wanted to make Sophie feel better. I’d prepared myself for listening – the active kind where I actually pay attention – and for the tears, but not for sex, not for that almost serious conversation at the end.
Jesus Christ, I’d nearly told her I love her.
If her stomach hadn’t been twice as loud as a normal person’s, I might have. I shake my head, then sigh, rubbing my forehead. What the hell kind of trouble are we getting into with her? I’d even promised nothing was going to change just because Miles found out.
“Fucking idiot.”
“Hey. I just walked in. Can we start with some kindness?” Nick asks.
I look over my shoulder as I pull out the stuff for grilled cheese – the only food I actually know how to make other than cereal. Nick looks like hell. He’s rumpled, his shirt is sticking out of his pants, and those bags under his eyes make him look about ten years older.
“Looks like you got fucked dirty today.” I tease.
“After all that shit with Sasha, I got a very … loud phone call from Miles.” He grunts, sitting at the island. “Please tell me we have alcohol.”
“I might have managed to leave you some.” I pull a bottle of single malt Scotch from our liquor cart and pour Nick a glass. Once I add some ice, I slide it his way. “A chef and a bartender. I’m a fucking wet dream.”
“Yeah.” Nick snorts.
He takes a drink as I assemble a sandwich and get it in the pan on the stove. I lean back against the counter and watch Nick as he swirls the ice in the glass. “How’s Sophie?”
“Dealing.” I nod.
He exhales and sets the glass down. “I have a bad feeling in my stomach, Gunner.”
“About Sophie?”
“I don’t know. It’s just … remember when we were overseas, and we’d drive along roads that were just a little too empty after a day that was a little too easy?”
Yeah, those days felt like traps. It should have been fun, time to crank the radio, smoke, and enjoy the little bit of downtime. But we learned quickly that quiet was bad. It meant shit was brewing. When things were easy it meant that hell was about to rain down on us.
“That’s how I feel.” Nick finishes.
“Shit.”
“Yup.”
“What’s shit?” Sophie asks, padding down the stairs in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else.
Unfortunately, we may have to talk about her wearing more clothes in the house once her dad comes back. A fucking shame considering it should be illegal to hide those gorgeous legs. She sits next to Nick and kisses his cheek gently.
“Did you have a bad day?”
He manages to dig up a smile for her and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”
She looks between us, then her eyes narrow. “You’re not telling me something.”
“Sophie.”
“Just because I’m not as old as you guys doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to know. We work together, and I’m just as much an adult as you all.” She crosses her arms just under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that gets my cock’s attention.
I turn and flip the sandwich. This is Nick’s problem to tackle. I hear him sigh. “I just don’t want to put too much on your shoulders.”
“They can handle plenty. I kicked your ass the first time we sparred. I can handle all four of you guys. I can handle whatever is going on.”
“I just have a bad feeling, that’s all. Since I don’t know what it is, I’m not going to worry about it much, and I don’t want you to worry either.”