Without waiting for his response, she pulled her thermal top over her head, revealing a snug tank top underneath. The casual disrobing shouldn’t have affected him—they were both adults, both professionals—but his mouth went dry all the same.
To distract himself, he stood and moved to the small locker where he’d stashed his gear, putting his back to her. He heard the rustle of clothing, the soft thud of her jeans hitting the floor, and forced himself not to turn around.
“You can look now, Boy Scout,” she teased. “I’m decent. Well, clothed, anyway. Decency is debatable.”
Elliot turned to find her in sleep shorts and the same tank top, her long legs bare in the cold room. Goosebumps dotted her skin, but she didn’t seem bothered by the chill.
“Your turn,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the lower bunk. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just enjoy the show.”
“There won’t be a show,” he muttered, grabbing his own sleep clothes and changing with efficient movements, keeping his back to her as he swapped his Henley for a plain t-shirt.
“Spoilsport.” She sighed dramatically. “And here I was hoping for a striptease.”
“In your dreams, Bristow.”
“Oh, definitely in my dreams.”
Heat raced down his spine. He turned to find her watching him, her golden-brown eyes dark in the room’s dim light. The playfulness remained, but beneath it lurked something more genuine, more vulnerable.
“We should get some sleep,” he said, the words coming out huskier than he’d intended. “Long day tomorrow.”
“Top or bottom?” she asked, and when his brows shot up, she laughed. “The bunks, Elliot. Though your mind going straight to the gutter is fascinating.”
“Thought you already claimed the top,” he said, ignoring the jab.
“Hmm, yes.” She dragged a nail down his chest. “I do like being on top.”
A sudden, visceral image of her straddling him, riding him flashed through his mind with such clarity that he had to turn away, busying himself with arranging his clothes in the locker.
Rue’s laughter was wicked as she pulled herself up onto the top bunk. He didn’t turn back around until he was positive she was inside her sleeping bag. And even then, he didn’t look at her as he hit the lights and made his way to his bunk.
“You know what I like about you, El?” In the dark, her voice had lost its teasing edge, replaced by something softer, more sincere.
He slid into his sleeping bag. “My sparkling personality and winning smile?”
“Ha. Sarcastic Elliot’s back.” Her mattress creaked, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could just make out her face peeking over the side of the bed. “But mostly... you see me. Not just the adventure junkie or the wild child or Rowan’s irresponsible little sister. You actually see me.”
The simple honesty in her voice caught him off guard.
“Of course I see you,” he said quietly.
There was a beat of silence, then the mattress creaked again. Before he realized what she was doing, she’d swung down from the top bunk. “Scoot over.”
“Rue,” he said, her name half-warning, half-question.
She reached out and touched his face, her fingers light against his jaw. The contact shouldn’t have surprised him—Ruehad always been tactile—but the gentleness of it made his breath catch.
“Stop thinking for five seconds, Wilde,” she murmured, and then she was kissing him.
Her lips were soft and warm against his, tentative at first, then more certain when he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands found her waist, steadying her or himself, he wasn’t sure which. The kiss deepened, her fingers sliding into his hair, drawing him closer.
Heat coursed through him, desire coiling tight in his belly. His hands tightened on her waist as she pressed closer, her body warm and pliant against his.
It would be so easy to let this happen. To lose himself in the heat of her mouth, the feel of her skin under his palms. To forget about Lab B and Praetorian and whatever danger waited for them beyond this room.
But beneath the desire burning through his veins was something else—something deeper and more frightening. This wasn’t just lust. This wasn’t just physical attraction. This was Rue, who trusted him to see her, who challenged him at every turn, who made him feel more alive than he had in years.
He pulled back, his breathing uneven. “We shouldn’t.”
