Page 17 of All The Way Under

“I know that, but I really need to get out of here. I’m losing my mind already, and they’ve been here for months. It’s impossible to think about a long timeline. I acted like a complete psycho today because you’re my only company.”

Pressing my lips together, I try not to smile.

“Psycho is a strong word,” I reply. “It’s okay to be attracted to me.”

Saylor groans. “There’s the attitude that ensures I’m going crazy instead of actually being attracted to you.”

“I’m attracted to you,” I say. “And to answer your question, yes, if we were in the real world, I’d still be attracted to you.

I can separate what’s happening to me at any moment from my emotions.

Those are separate things, and I know I would want you in the real world.

Even though I doubt you can separate your situation from emotions.

I don’t think you’d want me in the real world.

I’m not your type. This is where we should be talking about stuff like this.

Not in crowded areas with our captors around. I guess that was a little psycho.”

If they heard that conversation, they’d surely cage us in different areas, and as uncomfortable as this proximity is for my willpower, it’s what’s best for the mission.

I chance a glance at her. She’s staring at me, eyes intense.

“Why don’t you think you’d be my type in the real world?”

Careful with how much you say, Brody. Careful.

“From what I know about you so far, I think we’re from two different worlds.

” Perfect. Leave it at that. “Which doesn’t mean much for relationships, I suppose, because a lot of times opposites attract, but I think my being the person who is making your life better earns your affection in my favor.

I’m your only convenient, viable option.

I’m sure men are clamoring over you outside of here. ”

“I admit, most men are nicer to me, but I don’t think it matters what world we’re from.” Saylor pauses. “That almost sounded like a compliment—the other guys wanting me part at the end there.”

She just glazed over the different worlds thing there. She rubs her hand, the center of her palm. “It’s sore from all the hammering.”

She’s close enough to touch, and my fucking intrusive thoughts win. I grab her hand, flip it over, and rub her palm with my thumbs. She allows it. Watching our hands, her face a mask, hiding all emotions now.

It feels electric to touch her on purpose. I want my hands all over her tight body. Mostly, I’d love them on her hips so I can direct her on my dick. Yes , I think. That would fulfill this intrusive need that began the second I saw her.

“In your world, you don’t hammer a lot, then?” I ask, hoping my double entendre hits.

She clears her throat. “I don’t. Operating systems don’t have handles or require brute force.”

I work my thumbs into her hand, feeling just how fragile she is.

Her fingers are half the size of mine. I’ve crossed the line.

Why stop now? Moving my thumbs up in an illusion to massage her wrists, I feel her pulse.

It’s beating against the thin skin in a wild tempo.

Even though it’s her heartbeat, all I hear as it thuds against my thumb is fuck.

Me. Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me. Over and over, quicker and quicker, as her gaze penetrates mine. Fuck. Me.

I clench my jaw to quell the storm inside my chest, and her blue eyes dip to my neck, then back up to meet mine.

The sun is almost set, but her eyes shine with the last bit of sunlight, and looking into the depths of her gaze pulls me deep. She has me rapt in the moment—something ripping open inside my heart.

What is it about this woman specifically that does it for me? Is it the half-love, half-hate? Hate and love are two sides of the same coin.

Saylor is infuriating and beautiful. She’s intelligent, yet soft. The pull is magnetic in a destined way. I would have called bullshit if you told me these thoughts would cross my mind.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Saylor asks, licking her lips.

A knot twists in my gut.

“I’m thinking about it.”

She exhales, her lips pillowing open to expose her teeth.

“What’s to think about?”

My dick is hard. Everything about this moment screams forever, and yet, what comes to mind? My fucking commander. My mission. Duty. Honor. Respect. I deflate. Literally.

Cradling her face in my hand, I take one last breath before I let my brain, the big one, rule my body. The sun sets, and the light just illuminating her blue eyes goes out. It’s like she reads the decision straight from my mind before I’ve fully made it.

I lean in and inhale the sweet scent of her skin. Her hair still smells of something sweet, and being this close forces a visceral reaction from my body. Leaning toward her a bit more, I commit the scent to memory as my guts tighten in response.

Kiss her. Make her mine. Be a man and do what’s right.

I default to my usual misanthrope. “When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Saylor jerks back, pulling her arms away.

“That was insanely rude!” She aims a finger at my chest. It’s small and pointy. “You feel this. Whatever this is between us. It’s not because we’re trapped here together. It’s not even because you have a perfect freaking physique. It’s more than that. It’s deeper. We have chemistry.”

She says the last three words slowly, an eternity passing between each one. It feels looming, like a threat promised that I won’t be able to stop.

It’s like a weight pressing down on my chest. A foreign twist of a knife as the truths spill from her fucking delectable mouth. I release my breath, trying to hold it together.

“Saylor, stop. This can’t happen. Chemistry or not, it doesn’t make sense to complicate this.”

From the light of the lantern, I can tell she’s furious.

“Use,” I say, pausing for effect. “That energy to figure out projects and ways we can do things to keep us out of this cage.”

Saylor lifts her chin and scoots away from me as far as she can.

“You’re right. Absolutely right. I’ve lost my mind. Obviously, I’ve lost it completely for thinking someone like you would want someone like me.” She clears her throat and sighs long and hard. “You’re right.”

I feel like an absolute prick. Don’t I always feel like a prick when I say mean things? This time I care, and it’s confusing.

“I do want you,” I say, tone low. “More than I should, and more than I’ve wanted anyone else before. This isn’t an ideal situation for wanting anything except getting out of here alive.”

Shifting, she looks at me dead in the eyes again. A soul-searing look.

“What happened to you? Why are you the way you are?” She shakes her head. “It’s not just because you’re stuck here. Something happened to you. Was it the death of your friend? The one you were going to spread the ashes of?”

My breath catches, and I cough quietly. How does she see through me when I’ve been able to hide my past for so long?

My past is charred with a tragic incident that didn’t change me, per se, but it did solidify less-than-desirable traits that weren’t set yet.

I don’t think about it. I don’t talk about.

Friends and family don’t mention it. I’m not even comfortable with lines of questioning that dredge up memories. Like this. Right now.

She’s targeted the pain point with incredible ease. It doesn’t have to do with my fake dead friend. It does have to do with death and the interminable distrust that sprang from it.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I was born this way.” It’s not a full lie.

“I don’t believe it,” Saylor says, shaking her head.

“I don’t believe it for one second. You are holding onto someone or something that was done to you for dear life.

Life is short. You think there’s time, and I’m here to tell you there’s not.

You just try to find simple pleasures in life, like sailing is for me, around all the other crap in life.

I have been forced into a box my entire life, and I was angry.

” She pauses. “Maybe not as angry and mean as you are, but I know trauma when I see it. I’m surrounded by people trying to mask as people they’re not.

Lie to me all you want, Brody, but you can’t hide from the truth forever.

Mean people are always mean for a reason, and they’re mean until they realize it’s not worth it anymore. ”

The pit in my stomach turns to dread. How long will I be able to keep this charade up?

“Go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow,” I reply, lying down, folding my arms behind my head.

I know damn well I’m not going to sleep tonight. I’m going to think about the words she just said and compare them to the words Nolan always says when he’s trying to reason with me. The sentiment is the same. I can’t even bring myself to respond to her statement.

Saylor zips up the sweatshirt and rolls away from me.

“You’re going to be giving me a full-throated apology. Mark my words.”

I readjust the hard-on that, by some witchcraft, is still there, and nod to myself.

For the first time in my entire life, I may consider being less of an asshole.

Not because the pleading from my brother, whom I love dearly, has finally resonated with me.

No, because this woman, whom I’ve just met, has spoken to the hollow place inside me.

Maybe it is time to face my past and forgive myself for my mistakes. Maybe it’s time to move on.

I glance over at her when her breathing evens out.

She sleeps so quickly and soundly. She sleeps like a human who knows exactly who she is and what she stands for.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll allow myself to give in to her while we’re both trapped.

I could learn something about myself and give her what she obviously so desperately wants.

Nothing is easy in life, though. I’m not na?ve. Like the SEAL creed goes, the only easy day was yesterday .