Page 27 of Shadow Secrets
He nodded and moved to the door. There he paused. “The phoenix is good, but the ink on your shoulder is better.”
He closed the door. Sutton sat on the bed, feeling his absence, and breathed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sebastian
Garrett found him in the hallway at twenty-two hundred, reading the book he’d stolen from Vivi’s office.
Sebastian was in his usual position—back against the wall, sidearm on his knee—when Garrett’s boots appeared at the edge of his peripheral vision. “You’ve been awake for thirty-six hours,” he said.
“Thirty-eight.”
“Which proves my point. Go get some sleep. I’ll take the door.”
“I’ve got it.”
“You’re running on caffeine and whatever’s happening in your head that you won’t let Vivi look at. Both of those things have an expiration date. An exhausted operator is a liability. You know that.”
Sebastian did know that. Fatigue degraded reaction time faster than alcohol.
He’d been very convincing when he’d spouted those words to fellow teammates. Now, he was a hypocrite, because the moment the person behind the door was someone who mattered, the textbook went out the window.
He opened his mouth to argue. The door beside him opened first.
Sutton stood in the gap, one hand on the frame. She’d changed since the scanning session—the borrowed thermal replaced by a tank top and cotton shorts. Her feet were bare. Her hair was damp from a shower, pushed behind her ears.
“I can hear you two through the wall,” she said. She looked at Garrett. Then at Sebastian. Then back at Garrett. “He can sleep in my room. On the floor. That way everyone gets what they want.”
Garrett raised an eyebrow at Sebastian. The expression said several things simultaneously, none of which Sebastian intended to acknowledge. “I guess that works,” Garrett said. Neutral. Almost. The corner of his mouth twitched as he turned away.
Sebastian stared at her. “You want me in your room while you sleep?”
“Do you snore?”
“Everyone snores.”
“Keep it to a minimum, and I won’t have to kick you out.”
She left the door open and disappeared inside.
His knees protested—he’d been on the floor for hours. He closed the book, grabbed the blanket he’d been using as a pad under his ass, and stared for a minute at the open door.
“I don’t bite,” she called, “unless you piss me off.”
He stepped to the threshold, saw her in bed on her side with her eyes closed. “Or I snore.”
One lid popped open. “Or you snore.”
She closed it again and snuggled in, seemingly unbothered about him staying in her room.
He hesitated, watching her. Thinking about the damaged soul underneath that bravado.
“Make up your mind,” she said. “In or out, but close the damn door.”
With a sigh, he stepped inside.
The room was small and smelled of something floral. Vivi had given her some of her own shampoo and soap, but Sutton had swapped it out for something more citrusy. The rose gold stud in her nose caught the light of the soft bedside lamp. A soft sheen of moisture drew his attention to the swell of her breasts.
