Chapter Ten
Steel’s Medic
Steel
Harper sleeps with her hand on my chest like she’s checking whether my heart still works.
I don’t move.Not because I’m comfortable.I’ve slept on concrete, in trucks, against walls with a gun in my hand and blood drying under my nails.Comfort isn’t something I chase.This is something different.
Her cheek rests against my shoulder.One thigh is thrown across mine.Her hair spills over my skin, soft and dark and smelling faintly of hospital soap beneath the sweat and sex.She should look wrong here, tangled in my sheets with the clubhouse humming around us and war waiting outside the door.
She doesn’t.That’s the problem.She looks like something I want to keep.Keeping gets men killed.Wanting gets them stupid.
I stare at the ceiling, one arm around her back, fingers spread over warm skin.She made the choice.I know that.I heard every word.Watched her eyes when she said she was having me.Felt her hands pull me closer, felt her body open beneath mine, felt her trust hit harder than any bullet.
Still, I don’t sleep.Because now I know what she feels like when she comes apart.Now I know the sound she makes when she says my name and means it.Now I know what it’s like to have my hands on something precious and not break it.And that makes me more dangerous than I was yesterday.
The bed shifts, and Harper inhales slowly, then stiffens.
I loosen my hold immediately.Her head lifts from my chest, hair tangled around her face, eyes still heavy with sleep.For one second, she looks soft.Then she remembers where she is and who she’s with.
Her face changes.Not with regret.I would know regret.I’ve seen it on women before when morning strips fantasy down to truth.Harper doesn’t look regretful.
“Morning,” she says, her voice rough with sleep.
“It’s barely morning.”
“Don’t be pedantic while shirtless.It sends mixed messages.”
My mouth curves into a smile.She shifts, then winces.
Every muscle in my body locks.“Did I hurt you?”
Her eyes narrow.“Careful.”
“Answer me,” I demand lowly, my smile long gone.