Page 28

DENVER

A frustrated huff flies out of the gym as I walk down the hallway. We got back from delivering Buck’s supplies half an hour ago and Sinclair said she was going to play with Monty. But judging by the way he’s spread out on his back, sleeping in front of the fire, I’d say her plans changed.

I stop in the doorway, irritation climbing up my spine.

“What are you doing? You could hurt yourself.”

Sinclair flicks her attention in my direction, then turns around and jumps again, trying to reach the pull-up bar I have fixed high where I can reach it.

“You won’t train me, so I’ll do it myself,” she huffs.

I roll my tongue over my teeth as I watch her struggle to grab it. She’ll end up pulling a muscle, or worse. She’s still wearing the dressing on her palm too. Pull-ups are the last thing she should be doing.

She glances at me, muttering to herself. The earlier bubbly version of her has gone. It seeped away after our hike once we went to see Buck and he told me that Georgia had been into the store asking after me this morning.

Sinclair’s back to looking at me like my presence is irritating her. The return of it is not as welcome as it should be, considering it would be easier for everyone if things went back to the way things were.

Back to before I crossed a line. Before I had a glimpse of what she feels and tastes like beneath me.

“You should use a step to get up,” I say, walking over to her.

“How about you lie down, and I’ll use your face as one?”

I cross my arms, watching her struggle.

She rolls her eyes. “Go on then. Give me a leg up.”

“A leg up?”

She gestures to my hands, then the bar, so I slide both hands around her waist, lifting her easily so she can reach it.

“Thanks,” she says, managing to pull herself up halfway before she hangs like a rag doll.

“You need some more help?”

“No,” she puffs.

I reach up and grab the bar next to her, pulling myself up with one arm.

“Oh god, you’re a showoff.” She scoffs, looking at my bicep.

“I’ve just done this lots of times. Pull your core in.”

“What?”

I maneuver closer to her so I can wrap my free hand around her from behind.

“Here.” I tap her abs with my fingers. “Pull it in.”

She does as I say, her stomach drawing in toward her spine.

“Good. Now keep it tight as you pull up. I’ll help you.”

She hisses as she pulls on the bar. I flatten my hand over her stomach and use my thighs beneath her ass to help push her up as I pull myself up on one arm.

“Don’t tell me you think this is fun,” she pants as we do it three more times.

“I don’t mind pull-ups,” I say.

I let go, landing on the floor, then hold her around the waist again, setting her back on her feet.

“I prefer fighting as a workout,” she says, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

She looks at me when I don’t respond.

“I want to train again like we were.”

“No.” I grab her towel from the bench, passing it to her.

“Yes.” She snatches it from me and wipes herself. “What are you worried about? I told you to get grabby. I have a safe word to use. It’s fine. It doesn’t need to be a big deal. You’re making it a thing when we’re not… when it’s not a thing.”

She’s staring at me with so much fire in her eyes, but I still shake my head. “No.”

“Denver,” she moans.

“It is a big deal, Sinclair. I don’t train like that with anyone. I’ve never done that type of thing with?—”

“Ever?” Her eyes widen.

“Fuck no. I don’t…” I plant my hands on my hips and inhale slowly. “I’ve trained with plenty of guys where we roleplay like we’re going to kill each other. Women too. But not… I’ve never done that kind of roleplay before.”

“Roleplay where you talk about fucking me?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rasp as she steps closer to me, her eyes narrowed in defiance. She isn’t going to let this go.

“I can handle it. I told you I could. It’s working for me. Who cares if I’m not normal to want to do it like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you doing what helps you. But I can’t?—”

“Fine. I’ll carry it on when I get back to the city, then.”

“You’ll carry it on?”

She shrugs, pursing her lips. “Yeah.”

“With who?” I growl, heat flaring across the back of my neck.

“I don’t know. Brad, I guess. He’s my trainer.”

“Not anymore, he isn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not training with him anymore,” I grit. “He puts his hands all over you.”

“Not his tongue, though. At least not yet.” She gives me a fake smile.

“Fuck.” My hands clench into fists. “You are not going anywhere near Brad Garrett-Charles.” I spit his name out like it’s trash.

“We’ll see,” she hums, turning away and sauntering over to the mat.

She lies on it and starts doing crunches.

“He’s a creep,” I say as I walk over and stand beside her.

She looks up at me. “What are you worried about? It’s just training. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“I do.”

“Sinclair.” I drop to a crouch, fighting the urge to lay a hand over her chest so she stops crunching and listens to me.

“Do you mind? You’re distracting me and using up the oxygen I need to train with.”

“You’re not training with him again. I canceled all of your sessions.”

She sits up and glares at me. “You had no right to do that.”

“I had every right. I’m your bodyguard and your well-being is my priority.”

“Just not enough that you’ll actually help me be ready for when we go back, though, right?”

“Sinclair,” I growl.

“No!” she snaps. “You don’t want to train me yourself anymore, but you don’t want anyone else to do it, either. What about what I want?”

Tension rolls off her in waves. What she wants .

I’ve heard her use those exact words with Sterling and Sullivan multiple times.

They want what’s best for her. They love her.

Their family has been through hell. But she’s right.

She doesn’t get asked what she wants often enough. She gets told instead.

“Not Brad,” I say.

“Who else?”

I suck in air through my nose, every muscle coiled tight in my body as I fail to offer up any alternatives. No one else is going to lay their hands on her and live. Not if I have any say in it.

“So it has to be you then.” She holds my eyes.

“I…” It tears at me, knowing that I’m letting her down. “Sinclair… I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? Come on, we don’t even have to speak if you don’t want to. I’ll just imagine you saying those things to me, it’ll still work. We can practice me getting out of holds again. Walk through them. I need you, Denver.”

I curse as her gaze turns pleading.

“I need you . Please.”

Her begging me for something, for anything, is more than I can handle. I can’t ignore the desperation in her eyes. I can’t say no to a damn thing if she’s going to beg me with that edge of panic in her voice, should I deny her.

“Sinclair…” I sigh. But it’s too late. It’s done. She sees the breakdown of my reserve as I lift my eyes to hers.

“Thank you,” she breathes. “We’ll take it slow, I promise. I’ll do it however you want. You can take the lead.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. Because me taking the lead means staying in control.

After yesterday, I know there's a danger that all my control will desert me again when it comes to her. But if it’s not me, then she’ll find someone else to train her.

I know her, she’s stubborn. I can’t allow that to happen.

I clear my throat. “We take it slow. Tell me your safe word.”

“Mitt,” she breathes, biting her lower lip.

“And I promise I’ll use it if I need to.

It’s my responsibility, not yours. You don’t need to worry.

” Her eyes light up, making my heart pound in my chest. I put that look on her face by giving her what she wants.

But she doesn’t understand the potential consequences.

Because I’ve told her already, when it comes to her, I always worry.

And this time I know beyond doubt that I have every reason to.