Page 28

After the incident with Katie, I rarely see her.

Amos had her moved to a different dorm building a few days later.

I thought he’d move back into his original room after that, but six months later, he’s still taking up residence in the room next to mine.

At first, I was a little embarrassed, thinking everyone would see me as weak.

That I needed a bodyguard.

Amos barely spends time in my dorm though, as if he is trying to give me some space and freedom.

But every night, Amos returns, takes a shower, then heads to bed.

I still haven’t quite gotten used to the sight of Amos in nothing but a towel.

Every time he comes out of the bathroom, Cal has to nudge me in the side to keep me from drooling all over myself.

Holy hell, is Amos a gorgeous god of a man.

The first time my eyes witnessed the chiseled flesh of his abdomen, I could not stop staring at the lines of his muscle, imagining where they lead to.

I’ve gotten better at hiding my shame, especially after he caught me ogling at him.

When he winked at me, I was mortified.

The humiliation runs deeper than that when I touch myself at night, thinking of his glistening pecs.

If he ever found out how many times I’ve come undone just imagining his strong fingers on my body, I would never be able to face him again.

Somehow, I am able to keep a straight composure with Amos at the gym, when we eat together, and when we take long walks around The Valley.

He’s like a different person in those moments.

My personal trainer, my companion, my friend.

We’ve learned a lot about each other and a bit about our pasts from the before.

I can tell it still hurts him to talk about his mom, but there’s a layer of pride and love in his voice.

Amos’ mom, Charvi, immigrated to America as a teenager.

She came here from India all by herself, wanting to study medicine.

While on the path to become a doctor, she fell in love with his dad, an Irish-American car mechanic.

When Amos told me about how his father had ginger hair, a darker shade than mine, I couldn’t help but think of the ginger children we could have together.

I try so hard to erase these thoughts from my mind, reminding myself that Amos is my friend.

But at night, when he emerges from the bathroom after his showers, he becomes all my wet dreams. I’m like a teenage girl salivating in front of a Timothée Chalamet poster.

Except Amos is not a poster.

He is a real-life male with golden eyes that can pierce souls, powerful hands that can crush enemies, and a body that…

“Lori, what are you thinking about?” Amos asks as he approaches, startling me from my daydreaming as I walk down the long hallway in the sports center.

“Oh, hey, Amos.” My face is no doubt showing the lingering blush from my scandalous thoughts.

But I do my best to brush them off and jump into business mode.

“What are we going to work on today?”

“Arm strength.” Amos slows his pace to keep in time with my short stride.

“I think my arms are strong enough. Can we work on something else today? Something we’ve never done before? Something that will prove to you I’m ready for patrol?”

Amos rolls his eyes, most likely talking himself down from giving me another lecture.

But instead of leading me to the gym, Amos leads me into the indoor track, where we usually meet with the patrol units for combat training.

I follow him into the middle, through one of the mesh dividers, and step onto the mat.

“Okay, Copperhead. Show me what you got.” Amos falls into position, ready for a fight.

“What? You want me to spar with you?” I’ve sparred with everyone else, even Kyle, who is a hulk of a man.

But I’ve never sparred with Amos.

It’s like there is this unspoken rule between us.

We shouldn’t touch. I mean, yes, Amos has held me, comforted me.

But this? Sparring? It’ll be too much.

Too intimate. As weird as that sounds.

“I want you to give me everything you have.” Amos stands up tall as he continues to look right at me with that hawk-like stare.

“Do not hold back. Show me what you’ve learned from your training. If you defeat me, I’ll think about assigning you to a patrol unit.”

“You’ll think about it? Suck my dick!” I yell in mock anger, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Do you have a dick to suck? Because I would enjoy sucking your dick, Copperhead.”

Amos’ retort makes my arms fall to my sides.

My jaw also falls open in shock.

Did he just say he’d suck my dick?

Wait, does Amos prefer dick?

Well, there go all my nighttime fantasies.

Or perhaps that only makes them wilder.

A smirk curves the side of my face at the dirty thoughts that enter my brain.

For a moment, I forget that I’m not alone.

“I knew you had a smutty mind,” Amos chuckles, reading the thoughts on my face.

An instant later, the soft lines around his eyes go rigid as he attempts to pierce me with gold flecks.

“Fight me, Copperhead. Take me down.”

Oh, he is so on.

I charge at him before he can get himself ready for my attack, but he’s quick on his feet, stepping to the side.

He grabs me around my middle and flips me over to my back.

Every bit of air is thrown from my lungs, incapacitating me for a moment.

Then I remember why I am fighting him.

I need to prove myself and every second counts.

As Amos attempts to swoop down to grab me again, I roll away from him, heaving myself back onto my feet.

Bouncing on my toes, I weigh my options.

There’s no way I’m going to win by strength.

That superhuman strength everyone thinks I have from the super soldier serum I was injected with?

Yeah, that’s non-existent.

The only extra strength it gives me is more endurance.

I will have to win this fight through stealth, wit, and perhaps a diversion or two.

We circle each other, trying to gauge what we are planning on doing to one another.

I know Amos’ moves from watching him spar with Kyle, Andrew, Lucas, and Olivia—Amos’ four commanders.

I’ve seen him spar with others too.

Rarely does he lose.

In fact, I’ve only seen him defeated once.

I keep my head from shaking at the realization that this was all a trap.

Amos will never let me go on a patrol.

My eyes meet his with feral anger and I leap at him, this time ready for any of his reactions.

He dodges every single one of my punches.

Parries my kicks. His reflexes are so fast that he grabs my ankle after I aim a kick at his face.

Next thing I know, I’m on my back.

Again. Punching the mat in frustration, I quickly get back to my feet.

“Is this the only way you’ll let me go on patrol, Amos? If I defeat you in battle.”

His smile is anything but hideous, even with the maniacal undertones.

Shit. Why does he have to be so freaking beautiful?

I shake my head, ridding it of any other thoughts that portray Amos as anything other than my enemy.

At least for this moment.

I charge at him again, which might be a mistake considering this is a repeat move.

But Amos makes his own mistake by attempting to grab for me again.

I hoped he would.

I launch myself at him, my legs hurdling over his arms to wrap around his neck.

Using the momentum, I swing around and flip myself backward, throwing Amos to the ground Black Widow style.

I twist my ankle as I land on the ground, but push through the pain.

Not wanting to give Amos a chance to recover from the shock of being thrown to the ground, I pounce, straddling him in a way that I hope will overpower his massive body.

His body relaxes underneath me even though he could easily throw me off since I neglected to subdue his arms. Instead, he places his hands behind his head as if getting ready to take a nap and says, “Impressive, Copperhead.”

I swat at his chest as I make to stand up, but the sudden movement to my twisted ankle makes me wince.

Amos’ hands are on my waist, hoisting me off of him with a gentle ease and placing me down on the mat to examine my injury.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just twisted my ankle. In an hour, it will be good as new.”

“You might not have an hour when you are outside The Valley.” Amos’ hands caress the skin around my ankle, making me shiver and not from coldness.

“You aren’t going to let me outside, are you?”

Amos kneels down beside me as he scoops my hand in his.

“Lori, you are an incredible warrior. Every day you come in here, you work your ass off to prove yourself. I need you to know I see that. There’s no reason to keep you from going out there. But I can’t get the image of your body ripped to pieces out of my mind.”

Shit.

I know I am still traumatized from that day.

But I didn’t think Amos would be.

I never really thought about it, even though he’d told me he was there that day.

That he thinks of that day.

The sight of me must have been horrifying.

Still, it doesn’t excuse him from keeping me cooped up when I can fight, when I’m willing to fight.

Even after all I have been through.

I am just about to say this out loud when his fingers interlace with mine.

His hand feels like it belongs there.

I stare down at our joined fingers as he says, “Physically, you are ready. But I need you to be mentally prepared. Talk to Alison. If she clears you for patrol duty, I promise to put you on the next mission. Deal?”

I thought this moment would make me happy.

Instead, I feel fear, worry, and doubt.

All I can do is nod my head in agreement, not wanting Amos to know I’m feeling this mixture of emotions.

The gentle brush of his thumb on my palm sends a jolt of electricity to another part of my body.

I suppress a whimper as I let out a sigh.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Kyle walks through the mesh barrier hesitantly, looking directly at Amos, avoiding our joined hands.

Instead of releasing my hand, Amos grips it tighter as he helps me up to my feet.

After checking that I won’t keel over from my injury, Amos turns to Kyle with a stone-cold face of composure, asking, “Do you have a report for me, Kyle?”

Is he not a hot mess from our closeness?

Does this not have any effect on him?

I slowly untangle our figures with the excuse that I need to check on my ankle for bruising.

Kyle pulls Amos far enough away that I can’t hear what they are discussing.

Whatever it is looks serious, making me wonder if I’ll be made privy to the conversation afterward.

I test the weight on my twisted ankle and it’s already feeling better.

Amos looks back at me with a smile, but I can see the worry behind his facade.

I give him a questioning look, which he doesn’t respond to.

When I take a step forward, my ankle still twinges but not as bad as before.

I test out a few more steps, but I’m very obviously limping.

Amos is at my side in three long strides, scooping me up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I instinctively wrap my arms around Amos’ neck but quickly change tactic, attempting to wiggle out of his arms.

“You’re injured. I’m taking you to the health center.”

“I’m fine, Amos.”

“There’s no point in arguing with him, Lori. He’s an overbearing puppy.” Kyle laughs, dodging Amos’ leg that attempted a “this is Sparta!” kick.

“Woah there, little pup. It’s okay. Calm down.” I mean to stroke his cheek playfully, as one would scratch a dog, but it quickly turns into a sensual touch.

A touch that shoots lightning through my fingertips.

The kind of lightning that tingles in all the right places and I know he feels it too.

Our eyes lock for far too long, tempting me to lean in closer.

“I feel like I’m still interrupting something,” Kyle says from behind me.

I quickly remove my hand from Amos’ face, placing it around his neck.

That stone cold face of his slides into place, and the three of us fall silent as we walk out of the sports center.