Chapter four
Simon Riley
The mission was clean—well, as clean as it could be with blood on the ground and smoke curling into the sky. We got in, got out, and no one on our side died. That's a win in my book. I should feel relief, maybe even pride. Instead, I feel… twitchy. Like something's crawling under my skin. Like I missed something, and it's about to bite.
It's not the mission, though. It's her.
Lilly Rose.
The new medic.
Too bright for this place. Too soft. Too damn stubborn. She patched me up last week like I was a stray dog who'd just limped into her clinic. No fear in her eyes, even with blood on my chest and my temper on edge. Just… calm. Kind.
It pissed me off. And it pulled me in.
She doesn't belong here—not in this hellhole, not with someone like me. And yet she's still here. Still standing after the chaos of today, wiping grime off her hands like it's just another day at the office. She's got this quiet fire. Keeps trying to get through to me with those curious, defiant eyes.
I should keep my distance.
I want to.
But when she brushes past me in the hallway of our makeshift base, her shoulder bumps mine. Not hard. Not an accident, either. She doesn't even flinch. Just looks up at me, all heat and challenge.
"You good, Lieutenant?" she asks. Voice steady. Lips twitching like she knows exactly what kind of storm she's stirring up.
"I'm not the one who almost got blown to bits," I growl, taking a step closer. Too close. Doesn't matter. I've already crossed lines I said I wouldn't.
Her head tilts. "You checked on everyone but me."
"You weren't injured."
"That's not the point."
I look down at her—at the smudge of dirt on her cheek, the tension in her jaw, the rise and fall of her chest. She's still keyed up. Adrenaline. Nerves. Same as me. But her bravery isn't the loud kind. It's in the way she holds her ground, even when she should back off.
"You want a damn medal for doing your job?" I mutter.
She takes a step forward. Toe to toe now. "No. But I want to know why you act like I'm a problem."
Because you are, I want to say. Because you make me forget where I am. What I am.
Instead, I move before I can stop myself.
One hand grabs her wrist. Not rough, not hard—but firm. She freezes. Eyes search mine. She's not scared. Not pulling away.
"I act like that because you don't belong in this world, Lilly." My voice is low, rough. "And I don't know what the hell I'll do if you get hurt in it."
Something shifts in her. Her fingers curl around mine. Her voice drops, soft but razor sharp. "You don't get to decide where I belong. And if you're so damn worried… do something about it."
Christ.
I shouldn't.
But I do.
My mouth crashes into hers before logic can pull me back. It's fire and fury and weeks of pent-up tension all burning in a single kiss. She gasps against me, fingers twisting into my shirt like she's been waiting for this too. There's nothing soft about it. Just raw, breathless hunger.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard. Her lips are swollen, eyes wide.
"This changes nothing," I say.
She smirks. "Feels like it changed a lot."
I curse under my breath and let her go. Step back before I lose all control.
The cat-and-mouse game?
It just got a whole lot more dangerous.
And I'm starting to think I'm the one being hunted.