Page 4 of Dustin (Thunder Elites Special Ops #4)

(Madison)

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I’m not sure why Dustin’s hugging me right now. It feels so weird and yet familiar at the same time. He feels like home, which is crazy because he hasn’t been home to me in a long time. He pulls away, and I see relief in his expression. But then, almost immediately, the relief turns to anger.

“What the fuck, Madison?!” he questions. He looks and sounds incredibly on edge.

“When did you arrive?” I ask in confusion.

“Over an hour ago. I’ve been trying to contact you but your phone’s dead. I went into my hotel room and found all your clothes thrown all over. I thought something bad happened to you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Where were you? And who the fuck is this?”

Dustin turns to my friend and gives him a look of something akin to disdain.

“He’s my friend, Fabio,” I inform him.

“Hey man,” Fabio says, stretching his arm for a shake.

Dustin doesn’t take it, instead eyeing his hand like he’s carrying some contagious disease.

What the hell is wrong with him?

“And where did you go with this friend?” Dustin questions, his voice deceptively calm.

“We went to have dinner. I didn’t know you would get here so soon.”

“So you’re telling me, while I was here worried out of my goddamn mind, you were having dinner with him?”

“Yes,” I answer simply.

Dustin takes a deep breath.

“Madison, upstairs now,” he says.

I look around for anyone else that he could be talking to.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. We’re going upstairs to my room right now.”

“You cannot be talking to me that way. I don’t know what-”

He steps closer until he’s in my personal space and says his next words slowly.

“I’m practically hanging by a thread right now, Madison. Do not make me snap,” he threatens.

My eyes narrow, but just before I speak, I take in his stance and the look in his eyes. He must have been genuinely worried. It’s better not to push him.

“Fine. But don’t order me around ever again,” I tell him.

I turn to Fabio. He’s one of the closest friends I’ve made in Portugal. He’s an international model based in Portugal. That’s how we met, through the fashion world. He regularly models clothes from my line.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell him.

Fabio’s green eyes flicker to Dustin.

“Are you sure? He seems a little intense,” he states.

I nod. “I’m sure. It’s okay.”

Dustin would never harm me.

Fabio leaves, albeit reluctantly, and I follow Dustin up to the hotel room.

“Why is your phone off?” he asks first.

I grab my phone out of my purse and wave it in the air.

“Because it’s dead.”

“And you didn’t think to charge it?”

His voice is back to being calm. I don’t know if he’s angry or tired or anything right now. His expression changes are infuriating.

“I forgot,” I tell him, biting my bottom lip.

In hindsight, that was probably a mistake.

Going to the restaurant with Fabio was also a mistake.

But we bumped into each other in the hotel lobby, we got to talking and he convinced me to go out with him.

According to him, we haven't had dinner together in a while.

And he did have a point. I had missed him.

I finally agreed, and after checking in and leaving all my stuff in the room, we headed over to a restaurant close to the hotel.

Fabio and I are not romantically involved, just really close friends.

“Stop doing that,” Dustin says sharply.

I’m momentarily confused before I realize he’s talking about the lip-biting thing. Memories of numerous other times when he has scolded me like that appear in my line of vision. I force them back and look at Dustin.

“I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”

He nods.

“Good. Now can you explain why all your shit is scattered all over my room?”

“Actually…” I start. He’s going to react so badly to this. “It’s our room.”

“What?” Dustin asks.

“I said it’s our room. The agency decided we should stay together for the period of the mission, so they booked two hotel rooms for us,” I informed him.

His eyes narrow at that. “Okay….so go stay in your own room. Why are you in mine?”

I sigh. “Because apparently there was a mix-up of some sort. They gave us a suite instead of two rooms.”

“You have your own house. Go stay there,” he states.

“I can’t. My house is too far away. It will be easier if we’re close to each other. I live way out of the city.”

I’m lying, but he doesn’t need to know this.

He stares at me for a long moment, and for a second, I think he’s going to call me up on my bullshit.

“Fine, I’ll get another room for myself,” he finally says.

I inwardly sigh.

“The hotel is completely booked. There aren't any rooms available.”

Dustin rubs his face with his hands. He’s silent for so long, and I continue to wait for him to blow up and yell at me.

“I am not okay with this.”

I smile. That sounded like an okay to me.

“I’ll take the couch,” I tell him.

“No. I’ll take the couch. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to sleep.”

He walks past me towards the pull-out couch, and after grabbing some blankets and a pillow, he lies down on it. He quickly calls Sam, telling him I’m okay before closing his eyes.

“Dustin?” I call out tentatively.

“Hm?” he replies.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

I’m really not. I think about how he hugged me in the hotel lobby and realize something. There’s still a part of Dustin Rowell that cares about me.

He doesn’t say anything else, and I’m guessing he fell asleep. I groan softly as I pack all my clothes back into my suitcase. The clothes had burst out of my suitcase earlier today when I opened it, which explains the mess. After cleaning up, I fall onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately.

Annoyingly, I dream of a certain blue-eyed man that’s sleeping not too far from me.

I woke up really early the following day. I check the time. It’s only 4 am. I’m probably awake this early because my body’s getting used to the time difference again. I head for the bathroom to clean up, and when I return to the room, I finally allow myself to look at him.

I step closer until I’m standing over the couch, watching him like a stalker. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and he looks like he’s in a deep sleep or having a bad dream. Before I can think twice about it, I bring my hand closer to his face to smooth it out.

Lightning fast, Dustin’s hand shoots out and holds my wrist in place just before my hand lands on his face. His eyes fly open, surprising me.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky from sleep.

“Uh…I was just thinking about how uncomfortable you look on the couch. You can join me in the bed,” I propose.

“No,” he states without hesitation.

“Dustin…it’s fine.”

After yesterday, I thought we were making progress, but now the look in his eyes tells me that he hates me very much.

“Do you know the worst part with regards to what happened yesterday?” he questions while sitting up.

“That you thought I was in danger?” I guess.

He shakes his head.

“For one second, just a split second, I thought you had disappeared on me again, and I was terrified.”

My heart thunders in my chest at his words.

“Do you realize what that means, Madison?”

He stands up abruptly, forcing me to take a step back. He looks me straight in the eye.

“What?” I whisper.

“It means that a part of me still cares about you and what you do. And I really can’t have that.”

He stands up to get some water while I sit on the couch and ponder his words. I’m still there when he returns.

“Did I ever apologize for what I did?” I suddenly ask.

He arches an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Madison. Did you?” He throws the question back at me.

I shake my head.

“I didn’t. Because I knew some bullshit explanation and a few measly words weren’t going to be enough. I just thought it would be easier to let you hate me.”

“All right then. That’s fine by me,” he agrees.

“But I can’t. Not anymore, at least. We’re so much older now. We should be more mature and able to handle things.”

“I am mature,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Really? Because right now, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum.”

His eyes blaze, and I realize I might have gone a little too far this time.