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As Pete drove away from the airport, I was suddenly hit with anxious nerves. I didn't have to think long about why I was feeling this way. I knew exactly what was causing this.
Well, I guess I should say who.
When I couldn't handle it, I had to bring her up.
"So, is everyone here already?"
"Why don't you just ask what you want to ask?" Pete laughed.
"Is Y/N here yet?" I asked, my voice slightly lowering.
"Yep," he smirked, sending me a knowing look. "She's been here two days preparing."
"Her desserts deserve two days without all of us in the kitchen," I said, remembering how much time she spends working on even the simplest of desserts. "Let me guess," I smirked, "she spent the first day making little treats to help her get used to the new kitchen."
"That is exactly why she came early," Pete laughed. I tried to ignore the look he sent me.
Y/N, Pete, and I have been friends since childhood. Pete and I were friends first, then I met Y/N in third grade. That was the one year that I didn't have class with Pete. I went back to being a quiet, reserved kid the minute I didn't have Pete. Y/N helped me come out of that.
To be honest, I was a little nervous to introduce Y/N to Pete. When Pete and I were together, we were crazy and obnoxious. We didn't care who saw or heard us. Y/N and I were the opposite. We were quiet and more reserved. We did things together without wanting people to hear or see us.
With Pete, I would loudly play video games and play pranks on people. With Y/N, I would read and study. With Pete, I'd happily go to any party. With Y/N, I'd happily stay home and watch a movie with her.
The three of us balanced that. When the three of us were together, Pete and I would remain crazy, but Y/N would try to calm us down. She would sit back, watch us be stupid, and laugh while slightly shaking her head. She'd always stop us if we were about to be too stupid or our pranks were too much.
"You know what I don't get?" Pete said, snapping me out of my memories. "You've been in love with our best friend since we were in middle school, and yet, you've never said anything."
"What don't you get?" I asked, slightly readjusting in my seat.
"We've known her since third grade, Ben," he sighed. "I don't understand how you've never told her how you feel."
"I couldn't," I stuttered. "It would. . ."
"Ruin our whole dynamic," he cut me off, making fun of me. "That's such bullshit, and you know it. You and Y/N already had a separate friendship."
"No, we didn't," I said dismissively.
"Yeah," Pete laughed, "you guys did. And it's fine. I was never left out. But I also wasn't stupid. You have always been closer to Y/N than I have."
"We weren't. . . I mean. . ."
"I hate to admit it," Pete said, cutting off my stuttering, "but I think you've missed your chance."
"What do you mean?" I asked, not meaning to sound as panicked as I did. "Is Y/N. . . Is she dating someone?"
"No," he said, glancing at me with a weird look in his eyes. "I meant the fact that Y/N no longer needs a guy to take care of her. She's perfectly settled. She has one of the most successful bakeries in LA. She's baked for more famous people than you and I could name. She's been in numerous magazines and on the cover of more."
"I know," I mumbled. "I have all 13 of them."
"My point," he smirked, "is that she no longer needs someone to swoop in and take care of her. When we were kids, Y/N needed us to protect her, to take care of her. Which you so willingly would jump to do. But now?"
"Now?"
"Now she's got a successful business and doesn't need a man to take care of her," Pete said as he pulled up to the house.
"Just because her bakery is successful," I mumbled as he got out, "doesn't mean she no longer needs a man to take care of her."
* * * * *
When I walked into the rental, I instantly looked for Y/N. It didn't take long to find her, and I didn't need to search much. She was right where I knew she would be: the kitchen.
My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Y/N focused on the cake she was working on. I stayed in the doorway and watched her finish icing the cake for the party tonight.
"It's beautiful."
I felt bad when she jumped. "Sorry," I said through my teeth.
"It's okay," she chuckled. My heart fluttered when she smiled at me. "Ben."
I quickly wiped my clammy hands on my shorts as Y/N put down her piping bag, wiped her hands on a towel, and walked over to me. My breath got caught in my throat when she wrapped her arms around my neck. I quickly wrapped mine around her waist.
"It's so good to see you," she said, her voice sounding like beautiful music to me.
"It's good to see you, too, Y/N," I whispered. My voice dropped even more as I added, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," she smiled as she let me go. The second her arms unwrapped from around me, I felt all my warmth go with her. I kept my arms around her waist for an extra beat. I had to force myself to let her go.
"The cake looks amazing," I said, glancing at the counter in hopes of continuing our conversation. "It's almost too beautiful to eat."
"It's just looks," she chuckled as she grabbed the piping bag. "One bite and you'll no longer care how beautiful it looks."
"You're not just looks," I said before I could stop myself. She looked up at me with the piping bag frozen in her hands.
"I wasn't talking about me, Ben," she chuckled, trying to get the awkwardness to go away. "I meant my bakes."
"I know," I whispered. We stared at each other for a few beats. Y/N was the first to look away.
"Who'd a thunk it would take a wedding in Australia to get you to come home," she paused before adding, "to me."
"I was. . ." I started to lie, but there was no point. Y/N always knew I was lying. "I was embarrassed to reach out to you."
"What?" Her whole demeanor sank. "Why would you be embarrassed to reach out to me? I'm. . . Me."
"I know," I said quickly, taking a small step closer to her. "But. . . I had such big plans in high school, and none of them worked out. But you? You went to culinary school, graduated at the top of your class, and opened your bakery just like you planned in high school. Compared to you. . ."
"It's not a comparison, Ben," she quickly cut me off. "I've always known I wanted to open my own bakery."
"And I still have no clue what I want to do," I slightly mumbled. I cleared my throat when I realized she had heard me.
"You could always come help me manage my bakery," she offered with a soft smile that I could never look away from. "All the business and finance stuff still confuses me."
"You want me to work for you?" I asked, not able to ignore the scenarios filling my head.
"I want you to work with me," she clarified. She sent me a wink before going back to decorating the cake. I followed her and stood slightly behind her.
"Ben," she said, her voice dripping with warning.
"What?" I asked, pretending to be innocent. "I'm just observing you. If I'm going to work with you, I had better understand how you do things."
"You already know how I do things," she giggled. I smiled when I noticed that even though she was talking to me, her focus was a hundred percent on the cake.
"I do," I nodded. I looked away as I poked her in the side.
"Hey!" She gasped, jumping away from me. I smirked when she sent me a glare. "Ben, I'm working. Keep your fingers to yourself."
"Alright," I said, lifting my hands up in defense. "I will keep them to myself. I promise."
She darkened her glare before turning her focus back to her cake. I watched as she carefully put her piping bag in the right place. Right as she was about to start piping, I poked her again.
"Ben!" She yelled. She glared at me before quickly checking the cake. "You made me smudge," she pouted when she realized I had made her mess up.
"I'm sorry," I said, matching her pout. I walked up and examined the mess up. "Let's see."
I heard her gasp when I used my finger to grab some of the frosting and put it on her nose.
"Hey," she gasped. I laughed when she squirted frosting onto her finger and wiped it on my face. I grabbed some sprinkles from the bowl on the counter and threw them at her.
"Ben," she giggled, "we're going to have to clean the kitchen now."
"You were gonna have to clean it anyway," I teased as I tossed another handful of sprinklers at her.
"Actually," she smirked, taking a step toward me, "if you work for me, then I should have you do it."
I gasped when she tossed a handful of sprinkles at me. This started a small food fight between the two of us. Eventually, we both had frosting smeared across our faces, sprinkles in our hair, and what wasn't on us was on the floor.
"Whoa! What's the matter with the two of you?"
We looked toward the hallway to see Pete leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. His look made me lose my happy smile.
"You two better clean this up," he said, sending me a look I hope Y/N missed.
"My new employee will," Y/N teased me. She ran her fingers through her hair and cringed. "I'd better go wash this frosting out of my hair before the party tonight."
I couldn't help but watch her as she walked away. Once she was gone, my eyes landed on Pete.
"Shut up," I scoffed, before walking away.
* * * * *
Throughout the party that night, I constantly found Y/N. She spent the entire party refilling the dessert table and floating around the room, smiling at old friends. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
"You're pathetic."
I jumped at the sudden voice. I turned to see Pete walking toward me. He glanced behind me at Y/N before looking back at me.
"Pete. . ."
"Save it," he cut me off. "How can you sit back, obsessing over her, and yet do nothing?"
"She's my best friend," I sighed. "What if I tell her how I feel and she doesn't feel the same?"
"What if she does?" He shrugged like it was simple. "I'd hate to see you pass on a good thing because you were too scared to take the leap."
"I'm not scared," I said quickly and defensively. Pete shook his head and walked away. I let out a frustrated sigh, but he turned back toward me.
"Tell her," he said, his tone completely different, "before you really miss your chance."
I was frozen, staring at Y/N, long after Pete had walked away. I drank the rest of my beer and had to drink another before I had enough courage to go talk to her. When I did, she was restocking the cupcakes.
"Wanna dance?"
I cringed when my sudden appearance made her jump again. She was always a little on edge. No matter how many times I've asked, she's never given me a straight answer as to why she is so easily surprised.
"You gotta stop sneaking up on me," she giggled as she turned around. I didn't say anything as I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.
The second I pulled her into my chest, the feeling I've had since I realized I loved her hit me. As soon as I knew that I was in love with Y/N, I'd get this feeling whenever I was around her. It was this feeling of protection and care. Whenever I had my arms around her or simply sat next to her, I felt more aware of her. Everything I do, I do to make sure she's happy and safe.
It seems like my whole life revolves around her. When she went off to school, I constantly thought about her. I constantly wondered if she was thinking of me. I constantly wondered if she was safe.
"All I ever do is think about you," I whispered.
"You do?" She slightly stuttered.
"Of course, I think about you," I said like it was simple. "You're my best friend, Y/N. In fact. . ."
I couldn't get it out.
"In fact. . ." She said softly. "In fact, what?"
I didn't say anything as I grabbed her hand and led her out of the venue. She didn't object as I pulled her outside. She didn't speak up until we got to the small garden.
"Ben? What's going on? You're kind of scaring me."
"I'm sorry," I sighed, turning her toward me and grabbing her other hand. "But there's something I need to tell you. Something that I can't keep to myself any longer."
"Okay," she whispered, studying me. "What is it?"
And just like that, what little nerve I had disappeared. The way she was looking at me with a soft, concerned smile made the zoo in my stomach go crazy. I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to find the right words. My hesitation worried Y/N. I could see it on her face.
"Ben," she mumbled, "please just tell me. If something is wrong. . ."
"I love you," I blurted out.
"You. . ." She stuttered. I took a shaky breath, trying to gather my courage back.
"I've been in love with you since we were kids," I confessed. "And seeing you again. . ."
"Love or in love?" She asked when I paused.
"Is there a difference?"I chuckled as I pulled her a step closer to me.
"Well, yeah," she stuttered. "You can love your friends, but when you're in love with someone. . ."
"Your whole life revolves around them," I finished for her. I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, allowing my hand to linger. "All you ever do is think about them. All you ever want is to take care of them. All you care about is them."
"So you're. . ."
"In love with you," I clarified. I sighed as I continued, "I know I can't really take care of you."
"Wait, what?" She stuttered. "Why can't you take care of me?"
"I don't know what I want to do with my life," I scoffed. "How can I take care of the love of my life if I don't even know what I'm doing with my own life?"
Y/N quickly grabbed my face and whispered, "I don't need someone to take care of me financially. I need someone to take care of me mentally, physically, and lovingly. Think you can do that?"
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into my chest. I looked down at her and instantly saw the rest of our lives flash before my eyes. I leaned in and delicately pressed my lips to hers. The minute they touched, we both tightened our arms around each other.
After a few minutes, we finally broke the kiss. I leaned my forehead against hers and focused on the feeling of Y/N in my arms.
After college, I decided to return home. Even though I graduated and got a degree in marketing, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. For the last few weeks, I've helped my mom at her flower shop.
I was walking back from a delivery down the road when a truck I was all too familiar with drove up and slowed down so it was going in sync with me. I didn't bother looking. I knew who it was.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite flower girl."
"Well," I sighed, "if it isn't my least favorite adrenaline junkie."
"How many times have I told you, Y/N?" Tyler chuckled. "I'm not an adrenaline junkie."
"You chase storms," I said slowly, so he would get it.
"Not for the adrenaline rush," he corrected. "Sure, it's extremely fun chasing after a storm, following them as they quickly change direction, rushing in at the last minute to. . ."
"Sounds like an adrenaline junkie to me," I scoffed. "Last I checked," I said loud enough for him to hear as he continued to follow me in his truck, "there weren't any storms nearby, Tyler."
"There aren't," he shrugged. "I was just driving to see my parents when I recognized you, Flower Girl. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I sighed, not bothering to stop walking.
"Why are you walking?"
"I had a delivery," I said shortly.
"And you're walking?" He asked.
"The address was just down the road," I shrugged.
"You could've driven," he hesitated.
"Walking is good for you, Owens," I said, sending him a smirk. "You should try it sometime."
I hated the look on his face. He stared at me as he put his truck in park. I stopped walking and turned toward him.
"Damn it," I mumbled under my breath as he got out and walked to the sidewalk.
"Let's do it," he smiled. I didn't smile back or start walking. Before he could ask what was going on, I cut him off.
"Why are you like this?"
"What do you mean?" He chuckled. Even though he was laughing, I could see a little bit of curiosity in his eyes.
"You really see no problems with running after storms, putting your life on the line, for a video?"
"It's not just for a video," he stuttered.
"I know. I know," I dismissed. "It's for research." I purposely changed my tone when I said 'research'.
"It is," he stuttered again.
"Yeah, well," I scoffed, "have fun dying for something that you can't change or stop."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked off. To my surprise, he didn't follow me.
* * * * *
A few days later, I was putting together a few orders when I noticed a certain red truck parked outside.
"Here we go," I mumbled under my breath.
"What?" My boss, Maria, asked.
"Nothing," I quickly stuttered. Maria looked at me before glancing toward the front door.
"Oh," she elongated, "Tyler Owens. You went to school with him, right?"
"I did," I said, slightly clearing my throat. I tried to ignore the look she sent me.
"He's coming in," she said, her voice sounding oddly suspicious. "I'm going to go check the stock."
"Wait," I gasped as she turned to leave, "please don't. . . And she's gone."
I groaned when the little bell above the door rang. I cleared my throat and looked up at the customer I knew I had.
"Hi, Tyler," I sighed.
"Icy," he teased as he walked in. "Is that how you greet all your customers?"
"Only the special few," I mumbled.
"Special?" He smirked. "You think I'm special."
"Not in the way you're thinking," I scoffed. "You're the kind of customers that I have to use a special amount of patience to deal with." I cleared my throat before asking, "Are you here to buy flowers or just annoy me?"
"Can't I do both?" He smirked. His smirk fell when I didn't react to his answer. "Look," he sighed, slightly lowering his voice, "I hope you know that I don't mean anything by all my teasing."
"Then why do it?" I asked, my voice lowering to match his.
"I don't really know," he said with a soft chuckle. "It seems like whenever I'm around you, that side comes out."
"I'm honored," I scoffed, my voice going back to normal. I turned on my heel and busied myself with rearranging a floral arrangement I finished this morning.
"Y/N. . ." He started, but I cut him off.
"Are you going to buy something or not?" I asked, turning around and crossing my arms over my chest.
"You really don't like me, do you?"
"You really don't remember, do you?" I mocked him.
"Remember. . ." He hesitated. He smirked as he continued, "What? Did we get drunk and. . ."
"No," I cut him off again. "My brother."
As soon as I said that, his smirk fell. "Your brother. . ."
"He was just like you," I said, looking away and getting lost in thought. "He and his stupid group of friends would run off during storm season, chasing every little storm. They didn't care how risky it was. They'd get as close as they possibly could; all for the rush. And it was all fun and games until. . ."
"His senior year," Tyler finished for me.
"They got too close," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Their version of a chasing truck was thrown. Half of his team was killed. And my brother. . ."
"He's in a wheelchair," he whispered.
"Paralyzed from the waist down," I said through a clenched jaw.
"Y/N. . ."
"You know all of that," I scoffed, coming out of my memories, "and you still won't leave me the hell alone."
I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. He kept it in his hand as he whispered, "I never meant to bring anything up. And I am so sorry that I've done that. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not like your brother. My team and I are always safe. We never get too close. We are always. . ."
"Stop," I said, ripping my arm out of his hold.
I walked away, not caring that I was leaving him alone in the shop. I went to the back room and leaned against the door. I closed my eyes and struggled to catch my breath. It's been a while since I've talked about my brother.
When I finally walked back out, Tyler was gone. I hated that a small part of me was disappointed. As soon as that part revealed itself, I pushed it down.
I wasn't myself the rest of the day. I must've shown it on my face because Maria didn't ask how it went or bring Tyler Owens up.
Before going home for the day, I decided to walk down the street to a café. After ordering and receiving a latte, I slowly started walking back to the floral shop. I purposefully took the long way back.
I instantly regretted that decision when the red truck pulled up next to me.
"You really like walking, don't you?" Tyler teased.
"You really like annoying the hell out of me, don't you?" I said without looking toward him.
Tyler's friend - I think his name was Boone - said something to him, briefly distracting him. I couldn't quite hear him, but it sounded like, "Tyler, a storm is. . ."
I picked up my pace when I realized they were probably late for a storm because Tyler was talking to me. When Tyler turned back toward me, I saw something in his eyes that looked like fear.
"Y/N, you need to get back to work."
"On my way there now, Owens," I sighed. I stopped walking when Tyler threw his truck in park and jogged over to me.
"Get in the truck, Y/N," he said a little more forcefully.
"Hell no," I scoffed. I walked around him, but he didn't let me get away.
"Tyler," Boone called, "we should really go."
"The storm is getting close, Tyler," his other team member, Dani, added.
"Y/N, please," he said, his tone of voice completely changing. He slid his hand down my arm until he got to my hand. I sucked in a breath when he grabbed my other hand and intertwined our fingers. "There is a bad storm heading right our way. We need to get off the street and to a storm cellar."
"Then, go," I stuttered, taken aback by his worry.
"I am not leaving you on the street, alone," he said firmly. "Please get in my truck, Y/N. I need to get you off the street. I need to get you somewhere safe."
I looked into his eyes and saw that he was genuinely worried about me.
"Please, Y/N," he tried to beg me again. "Come with me."
"Okay," I whispered.
As soon as I said that one word, Tyler let out the breath he was holding. He let go of only one of my hands and used the other to pull me toward his truck. Boone climbed into the back as Tyler opened the front passenger door for me.
Once I was safely inside the truck, Tyler shut the door and jogged around to the driver's side. I gasped when Tyler quickly turned the truck around.
"Where are we. . ." I stuttered. "Tyler, the flower shop is the other way."
"I'm not taking you back to work, Y/N," he said, quickly glancing at me.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, dropping my voice.
"I don't know," he stuttered. My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard how scared he almost sounded. He looked at me, and his expression told me exactly how scared he truly was. "What I do know is that we have to get out of the storm's path."
"Out of its path? You guys chase these storms all the time. Why would you be running away from it?"
"Usually, we're prepared," Boone explained.
"Plus, you're here," Tyler said under his breath. He glanced back at me, something different in his eyes. This thing I couldn't name. "And I can't risk anything happening to you, Y/N."
* * * * *
My eyes scanned the small farmhouse as Tyler pulled in front of the barn, which he said they used as a base. As soon as he put the truck in park, his team jumped out. While they gathered their equipment and went inside the barn, I slowly got out of the truck.
"I can take you back into town once we're sure the tornado has passed," Tyler said as he walked over to me. I didn't look at him as he walked up and stood next to me. "If you trust me enough. . . Do you?"
"Trust you enough to take me home?" I asked, still not glancing at him.
"I want you to," he mumbled under his breath.
"What?" I stuttered, looking over at him.
"I want you to trust me, Y/N," he said, louder and more confident this time.
The way he was looking at me made my heart jump into my throat. This feeling hit me hard, and I didn't like it. I quickly looked away from him and cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the frog that had suddenly formed.
"You okay?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Why didn't you chase the storm today?" I asked.
"I already told you," he stuttered. "We weren't prepared and. . ."
"Boone said that you weren't prepared," I clarified as I turned toward him. "You said that I was there and you couldn't risk anything happening to me. What did you mean by that?"
"Pretty straightforward," he awkwardly chuckled.
"Tyler," I said firmly. "Did you only say that because of what happened to my brother?"
"No," he said quickly. "Why would I. . ."
"Did you only say that because you didn't want the same thing that happened to my brother happen to me? And you couldn't handle being responsible?" I asked, cutting him off.
"Your brother is not the reason that I can't risk anything happening to you."
"Then why do you care?"
A tension instantly fell between us as we stared at one another. It thickened when Tyler slowly took a step toward me.
"I care," he slowly whispered, "because I care about you, Y/N. I've always cared about you."
"We barely know each other," I stuttered.
"We grew up together," Tyler chuckled, the tension slightly lightening. "We went to school together until we graduated. We went to all the same neighborhood parties, farmer's markets, and rodeos. I rode bulls, and you took pictures for the local paper. We constantly ran into each other, Y/N."
"That doesn't mean. . ." I stuttered, but couldn't find the end of my sentence. My breath got stuck in my throat when he took a step closer to me.
"Why won't you let me in?" He asked, his voice soft.
"I don't need you to protect me, Owens," I tried to brush off. "I've been on my own since before I graduated college. I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," he said, taking another step closer to me. "Doesn't mean I have to let you."
He leaned down and delicately pressed his lips to mine. When I started to kiss him back, he reached forward and grabbed my waist. I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck. We got lost in the kiss until a loud noise came from the barn.
I looked away, my face on fire. Tyler grabbed my chin and made me look back at him.
"I can take you home," he whispered, "if you don't want to be here."
"I didn't say that," I stuttered, getting lost in his eyes. "I just. . . I'm not used to accepting help."
Tyler chuckled as he reached up and gently grabbed my face with both hands. He looked into my eyes for a moment before saying, "Don't I know it?"
I caught his smirk right before he leaned in and pressed his lips back to mine. Our lips moved in sync before Tyler broke it. When he did, he leaned his forehead against mine.
"I want you to trust me enough to allow me to help you, Y/N," he whispered.
"It's not gonna be easy," I whispered, slightly leaning back and looking into his eyes.
"That's okay," he nodded. "I know it's going to take time before you fully allow me to help you. And I'm okay with that. Take all the time you need."
Glen and I have been dating for two months, but we've worked together on and off for our entire careers. His first movie was my first movie. Every few years, we ended up seeing each other again. I wasn't working with him when I found out about my heart issues.
I was filming an intense action movie when I randomly had a stroke. After several days in the hospital and lots of tests, the doctors diagnosed me with Coronary Artery Disease. Basically, my arteries were narrow and reduced my blood flow. My first stroke was after a small blockage that was bigger than it would've been without my arteries being narrow.
After that first scare, I had to cut down on my action scenes. For the next year, I didn't have a big role. I did small guest-starring roles, enough to keep me in the public's eyes but not enough to stress out my heart.
Surprisingly, we were able to control my heart issues until Glen and I were working on an undercover spy movie for Netflix.
Glen and I started dating after we filmed the intimate scene between our characters. Stuck in my head after that scene, I quickly left set. Glen came to my hotel room later that night to talk about things. We ended up doing everything our characters did in the scene, but for real.
The next morning, I woke up to Glen gently guiding his fingers up and down my bare back. We laid in bed for hours, talking about us and our relationship.
When our fans found out about us, most of them were pretty excited for us. Lots of them have wanted us together for years. Even though we finally started dating, I didn't tell him about my heart until I had no choice.
And that choice went away a week after we started dating, when we were filming a few training scenes back-to-back. We were in the middle of the last scene when I had a mini-stroke. I passed out mid-scene and ended up waking up in the hospital a few hours later. When I woke up, I turned to see Glen half asleep in the chair next to me.
Ever since I told Glen about my Coronary Artery disease, he's been extra protective. Netflix gave us a week off so I could recuperate after my mini-stroke. That whole week, Glen never left my side the entire time I was in the hospital.
Once I was strong enough and the doctors cleared me, Glen took me back to my hotel room and stayed with me there, too. I mean it when I say he never left my side. He wouldn't let me get out of bed without jumping to help me. The doctor gave me a strict diet to stick to during my recovery, and Glen took it very seriously.
When we eventually went back to work, his protectiveness got even more intense. He was constantly checking to make sure I was feeling okay. As soon as the scene was over, he'd snap out of character, quickly turn toward me, and ask if I was okay.
Today was no different.
"Are you alright?" He asked, gently grabbing my hands. I laughed as I pulled my hands out of his and placed them on his chest.
"I'm fine," I whispered, as I stood up and gently pressed my lips to his.
"You'd tell me if you weren't feeling okay, right?" He checked when we broke the kiss.
"Of course, baby," I soothed. I kissed his cheek before walking off set.
"He's not getting any better," Alicia, our makeup girl, chuckled as I walked over to her.
"If anything, he's getting worse," I mumbled.
"That's just because he cares about you," she said instantly. "You're not just his best friend anymore, Y/N. You're his girl now. And Glen Powell protects the people in his life."
"I know that," I sighed. "And I adore that about him. I mean. . . I've always wanted him to care about me as more than friends."
"Then what's wrong?" She asked, with a slightly knowing look in her eyes.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I just. . . I don't want him to worry about me. What if he stops taking care of himself to take care of me?"
"Honey," she chuckled, "that's kind of his love language."
That night, Glen brought dinner to my hotel room. We sat at the little table and kept small conversation.
"You okay?" Glen asked once we had finished eating. "You've been kind of quiet tonight." I filled with guilt when he quickly sat up straighter. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, baby," I soothed.
"Then what's wrong?"
"I just. . ." I hesitated. "You worry about me."
"And that's a bad thing?" Glen chuckled as he reached across the table and grabbed my hands.
"What if you get so distracted worrying about me while filming that you get hurt?" I started to nervously ramble. "What if something happens? What if, during a stunt, you're distracted by me, and you end up getting hurt? It would be my fault. I could never live with myself if. . ."
"Y/N," he gently cut me off. "Baby, breathe."
"I can't let you get hurt, worrying about me," I whimpered. Glen stood up, grabbed my hand, and led us over to the couch. He sat down, pulling me with him.
The second we were sitting, he pulled me into his chest. I relaxed into him, bringing my feet onto the couch.
"My job is to worry about you, baby," he soothed.
"But. . ."
"Y/N," he cut me off. He reached up and ran his fingers through my hair. "Darling, you need to keep your heart rate down."
"I know," I sighed, closing my eyes and focusing on how it felt to be in his arms.
"I would never risk my life," he whispered. "Especially when me getting hurt would stress out your heart. But you are going to have to accept that I will never put my life ahead of yours, darling."
My heart jumped into my throat when he tightened his arms around me and added, "Never."
Little did I know that it wasn't his life we needed to worry about.
It was mine.
* * * * *
A month later, things started to change. I started getting more tired, and my dizzy spells became more regular. I found myself needing to take more breaks. It got a lot worse the day I just happened to be filming without Glen.
One minute, I was fighting Brett, one of our stunt guys. Next, I collapsed. Pain was shooting up my arm, making my whole body tingle. The only part that wasn't tingling was my chest. There was a sharp pain that I couldn't describe.
"Call 911!" I heard someone yell.
"Glen," I mumbled.
"Hold on, Y/N," my manager, Louisa, said.
"Glen," I tried again.
"I know. I know," she soothed. "I'll call him as soon as we get you to the hospital."
"No," I stuttered as I tried to sit up.
"Don't move," our set medic said as he quickly made me lie back down.
People hustled about until the ambulance got there. I passed out as the ambulance pulled away from set. I woke up almost 18 hours later to a sharp pain in my chest.
"Y/N?"
I slowly turned my head to see Glen in the chair next to the hospital bed. He sat up straighter and grabbed my hand when he saw my eyes.
"Hey, baby," he whispered.
"Glen," I tried to say, but my voice was nonexistent.
"I'm right here, darling," he said, scooting closer to my bed. "How are you feeling?"
"I can't. . ." I struggle to speak. Glen noticed and gently shushed me.
"It's okay," he soothed. "Take your time, gorgeous."
"What. . . What happened?" I asked, my voice soft.
"You had a heart attack, my darling."
"What?" I gasped. I started to sit up, but Glen instantly lay me back down. "No. . . I wasn't. . . I thought. . ."
"Try and relax, baby," he tried to soothe. "You need to stay lying down. You had surgery."
"Surgery?" I asked, my voice breaking. My eyes filled with tears as I shakily reached up and touched the gauze over my chest. "How. . . How bad. . . What kind?"
"Open heart surgery," he said gently.
"No. . ." I closed my eyes, the tears slowly starting to stream down my face.
Glen quickly stood up, laid next to me, and wrapped me in his arms. I turned to him and sobbed. He reached up and ran his fingers through my hair.
"It's alright, darling," he whispered. "The doctor says that you are going to be fine. We just need to be careful the next couple of months."
"But. . ." I stuttered, slightly pulling out of his arms. "But our movie. . ."
"Don't think about that now," he shook his head, gently reaching up and cupping my face in his hand. "Let's focus on you resting."
"Looks like you need it, too," I whispered, reaching up and gently stroking his face. I dropped my hand and tucked into his chest. I felt him softly chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me.
"I do need it," he nodded. "Now that I know you're alright, I can finally get some."
* * * * *
"Knock. Knock."
We looked over and smiled as Glen's parents walked in.
"Mom," he chuckled, "you don't have to say it if you do it."
"I don't care," she said with a smile on her face. "How's my girl doing?"
"Your girl?" Glen asked as he stood up and walked over to them.
"If she's yours, she can be mine too," his mother said as she gently patted his shoulder and walked past him.
She instantly sat on the edge of my bed and wrapped me in her arms. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" She asked softly with her arms tightly wrapped around me.
"I'm okay," I said, my voice mirroring how weak I felt. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. Cyndy must have heard it because she tightened her arms around me.
"You're okay," she whispered as she slightly rocked me side to side. "You're okay, sweetheart."
As Cyndy held me, I heard Glen walk over and greet his dad.
"And how are you doing?" Glen Sr. softly asked his son, lowering his voice.
"I keep replaying when Louisa called me and told me to get to the hospital," Glen whispered.
"She's okay," Glen Sr. whispered back. "She's right there, in your mother's arms. Focus on that."
When I opened my eyes, I saw Glen and Glen Sr. staring at Cyndy and me. We continued staring at each other as Glen walked over to my hospital bed. Cyndy got out of bed, allowing her son to take her place. Which he did. The minute he sat on the bed, I tucked into his side.
"So," Cyndy said, slightly clearing her throat, "anything we can get you two? Have you eaten? We can run out, get some dinner, and bring it back."
"Cyndy," Glen Sr. said softly, "we should let them rest."
"They need to eat," she said, looking at her son and me.
"I know," Glen Sr. nodded, "but we shouldn't pressure them. She needs some rest."
I didn't miss how he slightly changed his earlier statement.
"We can at least get them something to eat," Cyndy shrugged.
"Mom, there are specific things she shouldn't be eating right now," Glen quickly jumped in.
"I could actually go for a smoothie," I said softly.
"We can do that," Cyndy said, instantly happy at the idea of helping me. "Send us a list of ingredients you like and don't like. We will find you a smoothie that you like and has good ingredients for your heart."
One of the reasons I loved Glen's mom: she wanted to feel useful and helpful whenever she came around. Whether it was helping with dinner, hanging pictures, or even watering plants, she never hesitated to lend a hand.
I chuckled softly as she jogged over to me and kissed my forehead before leading her husband out of my hospital room.
"I'm sorry," Glen sighed as he relaxed into the bed.
"It's okay," I chuckled, turning more toward him. I gasped when I turned too much, and pain shot up my chest. Glen instantly sat up and helped me roll back onto my back. As I lay there, struggling to catch my breath, Glen rubbed my arms and whispered to me.
"Just breathe, baby," he whispered. It took me a while before I could finally relax. Once I did, Glen turned all the way toward me. I only turned my head toward him.
"I love that your parents flew all the way here to check on me," I whispered. "It's been a while since I've had a Mother's Worry in my life."
Glen tightened his arms around me as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
"I love that they flew all the way here to check on you, too," he whispered. "To be fair, my mom's worry often comes across a bit. . . Forced."
"That's okay," I giggled weakly. I closed my eyes before adding, "She means well."
"Yes, she does," he whispered.
I woke up an hour later. I looked over to see Glen talking to his parents in hushed voices. When he noticed I was awake, he grabbed a smoothie off the table and jogged toward me.
"Hey, gorgeous," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"
"Same as before," I shrugged. I started to sit up, but Glen jumped to help me. I smiled at him as he pushed the button on the bed remote and slowly raised my bed.
Once I was more in a sitting position, Glen gently handed me the smoothie. I wrapped my hand around his and pulled him closer. He laughed as I brought my lips to his. He instantly started kissing me back, putting his hand I wasn't holding on the back of my neck.
Glen broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine. I giggled when he slightly rubbed his nose against mine. "You should drink your smoothie, baby," he whispered. He slowly leaned back and handed me the smoothie again.
As I drank the smoothie Glen's parents got me, we talked about little things: Glen's niece and nephew, the new farmhand Glen's father hired, and Glen's recent training for his upcoming movie. What we didn't talk about was Glen and my movie, or when I would return to work.
"Leslie's friends finally scheduled her bachelorette party," Cyndy giggled. "Apparently, the weekend before the wedding, the girls are gonna rent a cabin in the mountains."
That's when it dawned on me.
"The wedding," I said under my breath. I looked over at Glen, tears already in my eyes. The look on his face told me that it had dawned on him, too.
"What's wrong?" Glen's mom asked, looking between the two of us. Glen sighed as he reached over and grabbed my hand.
"Y/N isn't going to be strong enough to fly in two weeks," Glen explained for me.
"Which means you can't fly in for Leslie's wedding," his mom nodded, catching on.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, looking down at our intertwined hands.
"Oh, honey," his mom sighed. She walked over to the other side of my hospital bed and sat on the edge of it. She used her finger to lift my chin. "It's okay, sweetie," she said sweetly. "We're more worried about you and your heart. We'd hate to put you on a plane when you're at risk."
I glanced over at Glen to see him smiling at me in a similar way his mother was.
"It was supposed to be my big introduction to your family," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"There will be plenty of other chances to introduce you to my family, my darling," he chuckled lightly. Suddenly, the look on his face dropped. He sighed before turning toward his parents. "I can't leave her here."
"What?" I gasped. "Glen. . . What are you saying?"
He turned toward me with a soft look in his eyes. "Y/N," he tried, but I shook my head and cut him off.
"No," I said firmly.
"Baby, I'd be gone for a week," he sighed. "I can't possibly leave you here alone."
"I wouldn't be alone," I said quickly. "Louisa would stay with me. Plus, it's not like you're going somewhere crazy. You're just going home. We can reach out to each other. You can text me throughout the day and call me at night."
"Y/N," he whispered, grabbing my hand, "I can't leave you."
"And I can't be the reason you're not at your little sister's wedding, Glen."
* * * * *
By the time the wedding came around, I was strong enough to stand up. Every day, a hospital physical therapist would take me down to their PT room. I'd walk along the path with Glen right by my side and a nurse with a wheelchair behind us. Every once in a while, we'd go outside to walk in the hospital gardens.
I may have been strong enough to walk around the gardens, but it would still be dangerous for me to fly. It took a lot more convincing before Glen agreed to go to his sister's wedding. Even though he agreed to go, he didn't leave as soon as we had originally planned.
Before my heart attack, Glen and I were going to go to Texas the Sunday before the wedding. After my heart attack, Glen changed his flight to three days later.
As Glen packed and repacked his suitcase for the wedding, he kept debating about changing his flight again.
"I hate this," he mumbled with his back to me. I held my breath and slowly stood up. "I hate the idea of leaving you."
"I know," I said, still out of breath from standing up. My voice made him quickly turn around. He dropped his tie, not caring if it landed in his suitcase or on the floor, and ran to me. He gently put his hands on my hips.
"I hate leaving you," he whispered as he leaned his forehead against mine.
"I can't be the reason you miss Leslie's wedding," I whispered back.
He leaned back and looked me in the eye. He reached up and gently cupped my face in his hand. He leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to mine. I let out a small whimper as I kissed him back.
The second we broke the kiss, I threw my arms around him. I whimpered again when he wrapped his arms tightly around mine. I didn't want to let go of him. I closed my eyes and focused on how tightly he was hugging me.
"I will call you every night," he whispered. "You will always be able to reach me. If I can't answer your call, I will immediately text you. I promise."
"I know," I whispered, tightening my arms around him.
"I don't want to let you go," he lightly chuckled as he tightened his arms.
"I don't want you to," I whispered. I finally broke our embrace."But you need to. You have to be there for Leslie."
Glen sighed as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His hands lingered as he sighed, "I know. But I wish you were strong enough to go with me. Or the wedding was later."
I nodded as I looked down. He used his finger to lift my chin.
"I will miss you," he whispered.
"I'll miss you, too."
* * * * *
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't handle being back in LA while Glen was with his family. So, I came up with a plan.
I was released from the hospital two days after Glen left and one day before the wedding. Without telling him, I got a plane ticket. The only way Louisa would let me do this was if I got a Coach ticket.
I landed at the airport and texted Glen's other sister, Lauren. When I decided to surprise Glen, I decided to tell his mom and sisters. I knew I'd need their help setting things up, and they were eager to do it. After changing at the Powells' house, I took an Uber to the wedding venue.
I texted Lauren to let her know I was here. She immediately texted me where they were. I walked around the venue and found the family taking pictures. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Glen talking to his sister.
"Leslie," Glen sighed, "we already took about three hundred pictures. Why do we need to take more?"
"Just one," Leslie said, struggling to hold back her smile. She stopped trying to hide it when she looked over Glen's shoulder. Without saying anything, Leslie pointed behind her brother.
"Leslie, why are you. . ." He instantly stopped talking when she grabbed his shoulders and turned him toward me. "Y/N!"
I laughed as he started sprinting toward me. The second he got to me, he threw his arms around me. He pulled me into his chest, leaned down, and smashed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and messily kissed him back. We heard his family chuckle before walking away.
Once they were gone, we finally broke the kiss. Both of us were breathing heavily as we stayed in each other's arms.
"I can't believe you're here," he whispered. "What are you. . . When did you. . ."
"The doctors released me two days after you left," I explained. I reached up and held his face as I continued to explain. "I couldn't handle being away from you, so I flew out here."
"Was it safe?" He asked, studying my eyes. "I mean. . . Flying is dangerous for someone who. . ."
"I'm okay," I whispered, holding his face. "I'm just happy to see you."
I giggled when Glen pressed his lips to mine. He broke the kiss and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward his family. Glen and I spent the night walking around and talking to his family members. Whenever he introduced me to one, he had the biggest smile on his face and introduced me as his "girlfriend". It made my heart feel a bit stronger each time he said that.
By the end of the night, I was fighting exhaustion. I fought it because I didn't want Glen to end the night early. But he caught on. In the middle of the song we were dancing to, Glen led me off the dancefloor. We walked into the hallway outside the ballroom, and he led me over to a bench. We sat down, and Glen instantly wrapped his arms around me.
"I know you're exhausted," he whispered, "but I can't tell you how happy I am that you came."
"I don't regret it," I cuddled more into him. There was a pause, but it was tense. I leaned out of our hold and asked, "Everything okay?"
"Of course," he tried to brush off.
"Glen," I elongated his name.
"The past few days," he sighed, "I've been in my head a lot. I kept thinking about your heart attack. I kept thinking about the 'what if'. I kept going over what things would've been like if you hadn't. . ."
"Glen," I gently cut off his nervous rambling. He responded by sighing and turning toward me.
"All I can think about is what I would do if you hadn't survived," he whispered. "And my answer to that is nothing. I could literally do nothing if you didn't survive. My world would end if I lost you. You mean everything to me, Y/N."
"You didn't lose me, baby," I tried to reassure him. "I'm right here."
"You mean everything to me, Y/N," he repeated, slightly changing his enunciation. "You mean everything to me because. . . I love you."
I quickly grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. Without caring about his family around the corner, Glen grabbed my waist and pulled me so I was straddling his lap.
We kissed for a little while before I broke it. I leaned my forehead against his as we caught our breath.
"I love you, too, Glen."
I leaned back and instantly saw the smile spread across his face. Without looking away from my eyes, he gently rubbed my hips that he was still holding.
"Surgery scar and all?" I teased. He tilted his head and pressed his lips to mine. I gently held his face as our lips moved in sync.
"I love you," he said, breaking the kiss, "surgery scar and all."
It took some time, but Ben slowly got better. He wasn't as jumpy. He wasn't as paranoid. He was smiling more, laughing more, and was glued to Cathy. He never let her out of his sight. After a month of fearing that I would never see him again, I finally had the love of my life back. He no longer worried that he wasn't the same person he was before he joined the Running Man.
It was me who wasn't the same person.
As soon as Ben's nightmares stopped, mine started. When I woke up from my first nightmare, I didn't tell Ben. I couldn't. What if my nightmares bring his nightmares back? He's worked so hard to get rid of them. If mine brought his back, I'd never forgive myself.
So when another nightmare made me jump awake, I covered my mouth to stifle my small sob. I quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I only turned on one of the two lights and leaned against the cold tiled bathtub. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and allowed my sob to escape.
Every nightmare I had was the same. Ben was back in the Running Man. The difference? I was there with him. Ben spends my entire nightmare trying to keep me safe. I am the reason Ben gets killed in every nightmare. I jump awake after Ben is killed, and the Hunter finishes me off.
Once my heart rate calmed down a little, I slowly stood up. I washed my face and took a minute before leaving the bathroom and going back to our room. I froze when I saw Ben sitting up in bed.
"Y/N?" He asked, shaking the sleep from himself.
"Hey, baby," I smiled, trying to sound normal.
"You okay?"
I walked over and climbed back into bed. When he saw me getting back into bed, he laid back down. He reached over and pulled me into his chest. I draped my arm across his chest and focused on his heartbeat.
"I just felt a little sick," I tried to lie.
"Sick?" Ben panicked. "How sick? Are you. . ."
"Baby," I soothed, "I'm fine."
I cuddled more into him and started gently dragging my fingernails across his chest.
"What's wrong?" He asked, tightening his arms around me.
"I don't know," I sighed. Focusing on Ben's arms wrapped tightly around me helped get rid of the nightmare haze I usually have to fight on my own. "It might be a stomach bug or something."
"Or something?" He chuckled. "That's what you said before we found out you were pregnant with Cathy." Ben stopped laughing. I felt him look down at me, so I looked up at him. "Are you. . ."
"No," I smiled. My smile slightly fell as I asked, "Do you wish I was. . ."
When my question dropped, Ben slowly smirked at me. I let him slowly roll us over so he was hovering over me. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, instantly moving his lips messily against mine. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.
"To be honest," he whispered, rubbing his nose against mine, "I wouldn't mind having a son."
"You wouldn't?" I teased.
"Not at all," he said, his voice deepening.
"Well then," I smirked as I lazily wrapped my arms around his neck. "Let's see what we can do about that."
I fell back asleep in Ben's arms with our clothes scattered around the room. I woke up, but the bed was empty. I got dressed and walked into the kitchen. My heart jumped into my throat when I found Ben feeding Cathy.
"There's Momma," Ben smiled when he saw me. "I was wondering when she'd wake up."
Ben wiped Cathy's mouth before leaving her in her high chair and walking over to me. He wrapped me in his arms and leaned down, pressing his lips to mine.
"Last night was fun," he smirked, lowering his voice when he broke the kiss. "Any chance you know if you're carrying my son?"
"It's a little too early for that," I laughed, playfully pushing him away from me.
"Is it bad to say that I kind of hope you are?" He winked and kissed my cheek before returning to our daughter.
* * * * *
The next couple of days, it felt like Ben kept a closer eye on me. He continually asked if I was feeling okay. It was pretty clear that he wasn't asking to find out if I was pregnant. He was asking because he thought I had actually woken up in the middle of the night with an upset stomach.
Luckily, my nightmares weren't as bad those next couple of days, until a few weeks later. My nightmare changed from Ben and me on the run to us on the run with Cathy and our son. Even though the dream slightly changed, the ending didn't.
I sat up quickly, the sob ripping through my throat a lot harder than it ever had. I covered my mouth to try to stifle the sobs.
"Y/N?"
I looked up, unable to stop the tears, when I saw Ben in the doorway. He ran to me and collapsed next to me, instantly wrapping his arms around me.
"What's wrong, darling?"
"Why are you up?" I asked shakily. "Is Cathy okay?"
"She's fine," he soothed. "She had a wet diaper. I woke up and changed her. I was walking back into our room when. . . Baby, how long have you been having nightmares?"
"I don't. . ." I tried to lie, but he cut me off by shaking his head.
"I know what a nightmare looks like, baby."
My whimper made him tighten his arms around me. "Talk to me, my love," he whispered. "How long have you been having nightmares?"
"Since yours stopped," I whispered, tucking into his chest.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked without an ounce of anger in his voice.
"I didn't want to bring yours back," I said, the tears returning.
"Oh, my love," he soothed. I took a shaky breath as he reached forward and gently dragged his fingers up and down my bare arms. "I'm alright. I'm right here. Do you feel that?"
I closed my eyes and focused on him doing that, allowing the goose bumps to rise. I could feel my heart beat slowly calm down.
"Yes," I whispered.
"I am here," he repeated. "I am right here, baby. And more importantly, I'm not going anywhere, ever again. Okay? We are a family. Nothing and no one would ever take us away from each other."
I opened my eyes and, without pulling out of his arms, looked up at him. "Promise?" I asked, my voice breaking. He reached up and gently cupped my cheek in his hand. I smiled when he rubbed my cheek with his thumb.
Without letting go of my face, he leaned down and pressed his lips delicately to mine. Our lips moved slowly in sync before he broke the kiss. I smiled when he leaned his forehead against mine for a few seconds before leaning back.
"I promise," he whispered. "Nothing will ever take me away from my family."
I let the two of us settle into the quietness. The longer I delayed bringing it up, the more it ate away at me.
"Ben?"
"Yes, darling?" He asked. I hesitated when I heard how tired he sounded.
"Do you still want a son?"
My question made him laugh and teasingly tickle my side. "Some day."
Without saying anything else, I sat up and reached into my bedside table. I took a deep breath before handing him the positive pregnancy test.
"Turns out," I said, not meaning for my voice to be shaky, "it wasn't the stomach flu after all."
He sat up and took the pregnancy test from me. I watched as his eyes filled with tears, but he didn't let them fall.
"You're. . ." He stuttered, looking between me and the test.
"Now," I laughed nervously, "there's no way of knowing if it's a boy. At least not right now. Give us a few weeks, and then we can find out. . ."
Ben cut me off by grabbing my face and pressing his lips to mine. Our lips instantly started moving in sync. Without breaking the kiss, Ben grabbed my hips and pulled me so I was straddling his hips. We kissed for a little while before breaking apart.
"I love you so much, Mrs. Richards," he whispered, looking into my eyes. "I promise to always be around to raise Cathy and this new baby and any other children of mine you want to carry."
"I love you, too, Mr. Richards," I said with tears in my eyes.
Suddenly, the smile on his face dropped. He reached up and moved some hair out of my face.
"Baby," he said softly, "we need to talk about your nightmares."
"Ben," I sighed and started to get off his lap. He grabbed my hips and stopped me.
"Baby, please," he begged. "I know that you've been keeping this from me to protect me, but we're married. Meaning we go through these things together. You helped me with my nightmares. Of course, I can help you with yours."
"What if yours come back because I tell you about mine?" I asked, my eyes focused on my hands pressed to his chest.
"Y/N, look at me," he whispered. I took a shaky breath before looking up at him. "You are the reason I stopped having the nightmares. You are the reason I worked through them. And you are not going to cause them to come back."
"How do you know?" I whimpered.
"Because my nightmares coming back would worsen yours," he said simply. "And I would never let that happen."
Gary Johnson and I have been partners since I first joined the undercover crew. On our first mission, we both disobeyed orders and got our covers blown. But we were able to keep each other alive and complete the mission.
Over the years, Gary and I have closed a lot of cases. But we've also gotten more reckless. The more cases we go on, the messier they get and the shorter our covers work.
This one was no different.
We had originally gone undercover as a married couple in hopes of taking down a drug lord who was terrorizing a neighborhood. It started out pretty well. We started taking out the main guy's higher-up distributors.
All that was left was Aaron Walker and the big man himself, Jeffery Louis. That's when our cover was blown. Gary was fighting Jeffery, and I was fighting Aaron. Gary was winning his fight.
I wasn't.
"Y/N!" I heard Gary yell as Aaron picked me up and threw me across the room. I landed with a grunt and rolled a little way away. I tried to sit up, but my arms gave out.
Once I was able to stand up, Aaron didn't wait. I fought him off for a few minutes before he got the upper hand. I screamed in pain when he used the knife he had to stab me in the side.
"Y/N!" Gary yelled. "No!"
I collapsed the second he pulled out the knife. I rolled onto the side, struggling to gather the strength to open my eyes. Once I did, I opened them to see Gary fighting Aaron.
I tried to keep my eyes open and watch him fight, but the pain got too much. Right as Gary killed Aaron, I passed out.
* * * * *
I woke up a little while later in our car. I turned my head to see Gary already watching me.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, glancing down at my stab wound.
"I'm fine," I said, pushing the pain down as far as I could.
I tried to hide my pain the entire ride back to the hotel. When we pulled into the hotel, Gary sent me a look. I ignored his worriful look and slowly started getting out of the car. The second my feet touched the ground, I leaned against the car.
Gary ran over to me and wrapped his arm around me. I leaned against him as he led me into our room. The second the door closed behind us, I walked out of his hold.
"It looks bad," Gary said, his eyes glued to my wound.
"I'll live," I tried to shrug off. I started to walk away, but he stopped me.
"Sit your ass down and let me take care of you," he demanded. I didn't bother to hide my surprise. Once he saw it, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please, sit down and let me look at it."
"Okay," I whispered. He gently led me over to the bathroom. I started to sit on the counter, but the pain weakened me. I collapsed, falling into Gary's arms.
"It's alright," he said softly. "I got you."
Gary gently grabbed my waist, lifted me, and put me on the bathroom counter. I didn't say anything as Gary started cleaning my wounds. When he was finished, I waited to see what he would do. It seemed like he was hesitating.
"I should. . . You probably have. . ." As he stuttered, his hands gestured toward my torso.
Cringing in pain, I slowly pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. When I looked back at him, it was clear he was trying really hard not to look at me.
"Gary," I whispered. Me saying his name made him look up at me. He stared at my eyes before glancing down at my torso. Once he saw the gash on my side, he instantly went to work.
I tried to hide the pain, but this cut was a lot deeper than my other ones. At one point, the pain got too much, and I had to grip Gary's arm. The second I grabbed him, he stopped.
"Just breathe," he tried to soothe. "This one is deeper than your others, so it's gonna hurt more. When it gets too much, let me know, and I'll stop."
"You can keep going," I said, trying not to sound so in pain. Gary reached up and gently moved some hair out of my face, his hand lingering.
"Breathe, Y/N," he whispered. I closed my eyes and couldn't stop myself from leaning into his touch. When my pain did finally subside enough, I opened my eyes.
"Okay," I whispered.
"You good now?"
I nodded in response. I kept my eyes glued to his as he finished cleaning and covering my wound. When he was done, I let out a sigh of relief.
"Come on," he whispered as he gently grabbed my hips. He held onto me as I slipped off the counter. When I landed on my feet, the pain shot up my side. The second I winced in pain, I felt Gary tighten his hands on my waist.
Before I could lie and tell him I was fine, he leaned down and gently picked me up. I couldn't help but lean my head against his chest and close my eyes. He carried me bridal style over to the bed. I weakly smiled when he tucked me in.
Right when I finally opened my eyes, Gary leaned down and kissed the top of my head. He pulled away, and his eyes widened when he realized my eyes were open.
"Get some rest," he whispered, his eyes still slightly wide. He cleared his throat and walked away. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he walked back into the bathroom.
My eyes were glued to him as he took off his shirt. He turned on the water and leaned down to drink from it. After getting something to drink, he let the water pool into his hands. I bit my lip when he splashed the water onto his face. With his eyes still closed, he grabbed the towel and wiped his face. When he turned around, I quickly closed my eyes.
Exhaustion finally hit me. I kept my eyes shut and allowed my body to fully relax. Right before I fell asleep, I felt Gary move some hair out of my face.
"You're safe," he whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you."
* * * * *
I feel like I barely slept that night. Whenever I moved, the pain woke me up. Around 6 am, I didn't bother to try to sleep anymore. I slowly sat up and turned to see Gary still asleep. I carefully made my way to the bathroom and tried to somewhat get ready for the day.
When I walked out of the bathroom, Gary was awake. And worried.
"Y/N," he said, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Morning," I tried to say lightly, even though I had to lean against the wall to stop the spinning.
"Are you okay?" He panicked as he ran to me. Once he got to me, he gently grabbed my waist. With his hands still on my waist, he pulled me away from the wall. He dropped his voice to a whisper as he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," I said, my tone matching his. "I'm fine."
"I couldn't live with myself if I let something happen to you," he said, slightly pulling me closer. As he talked, he didn't look up from his hands on my waist. His voice was so soft, it sent a chill down my spine. But it wasn't a bad chill.
"You didn't," I whispered back. "I'm fine, Gary."
"For now," he said, dropping his voice to a mumble. His eyes were still on his hands on my waist.
"Johnson," I said, trying to break this tension, "hate to break it to you, but our job is dangerous."
When he finally looked up at me, it felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He just stared at me. The longer he stared at me, the closer it seemed we got.
Before I could even think about what to say, Gary closed the gap between us. My breath got caught in my throat when he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. It took me a second before I started to kiss him back. Once I did, he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me closer.
Our lips slowly moved in sync as we pulled each other closer. Gary tightened his arms a little too tightly around my waist, pressing directly on the wound on my side. I broke the kiss and let out a small whimper.
"I'm sorry," he instantly whispered.
"It's okay," I said, catching my breath from the pain and from the kiss. When I looked up at him, my nose rubbed against his. He closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against mine a second time.
"I refuse to let anything happen to you," he whispered with his eyes still closed. When he finally opened them, he smiled softly.
"Our cases sometimes go wrong, Gary," I whispered as I looked away from him. He gently grabbed my chin and made me look back at him.
"Then they go wrong," he shrugged, "but that doesn't mean I have to let you get hurt in the process."
When I had a moment to myself, I finally checked my phone. The second I did, a big smile spread across my face.
Glen 🤠
Hey, you. Long time, no best friend date. You in?
I quickly typed a response.
Me 🥰
Absolutely! Work is crazy, and I need to blow off steam.
I didn't put my phone down as I waited for him to respond.
Glen 🤠
Good. 😉When should I pick you up?
Me 🥰
I'm off work in about 45 minutes (if no disaster happens). Give me an extra half an hour to go home and change out of my work clothes.
Glen 🤠
You don't have to change for silly old me, darling.
Me 🥰
What are you talking about? I want to change so I'm comfortable. I don't care about dressing up for you!
Glen 🤠
Ouch.
I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to answer seriously. A minute later, he responded again.
Glen 🤠
I'll pick you up at your apartment in an hour. You still live at the same place, right?
Me 🥰
Same place. See you soon.
Glen 🤠
See you soon. 😉
I was about to put my phone away, but stopped. Instead, I quickly texted him one more message.
Me 🥰
I'm really glad you reached out, Glen. I've missed you. ❤️
I was about to put my phone back in my desk when he texted back.
Glen 🤠
I've missed you too. ❤️
I finished things up at work and headed home. As soon as I walked in the door, I ran upstairs and changed out of my work clothes. Once I was in a cute shirt and a pair of leggings, I ran a brush through my hair. I grabbed my phone when it went off. A smile instantly formed when I saw it was a text from Glen.
Glen 🤠
On my way. Can't wait to see you!
I quickly texted him back so he would know I was ready.
Me 🥰
See you soon. So excited!
As I waited for Glen to come pick me up, I threw on my cardigan. I sat down on my couch and anxiously bounced my knee. I busied myself with scrolling through my phone as I waited. The minute he knocked, I jumped off.
"Glen!" I cheered as I tore the door open. He laughed and easily caught me when I jumped into his arms.
"I've missed you," he said as he slowly spun us around. He put me down, and I instantly saw a change in him. I opened my mouth to say something, but he spoke up first. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I came back. Things have been crazy and I. . ."
"Don't," I cut him off. I reached up and gently put my hands on his chest. "Don't you dare apologize for doing what you have dreamed of doing your entire life. You are my best friend, Glen. And I am so proud of you."
"Damn, I've missed you," he said with a small chuckle. He grabbed my waist and pulled me back into his chest.
I closed my eyes and focused on how it felt to be in his arms. Of course, I had feelings for him. He's been my best friend our entire childhood. He's the only person I feel like I can trust with everything. He knows things about me that my own parents don't know.
I tightly need my arms around him and buried my face in the crook of his neck. I breathed in his cologne, flooded by memories of him and our childhood. When I spoke up again, I didn't mean for my voice to break.
"I've missed you, too."
* * * * *
Glen and I went to our favorite diner. He'd try to take me to a five-star expensive restaurant, but I laughed and told him that I don't need to be wined and dined. I just needed a greasy burger with my best friend.
After the dinner, we decided to go to a bar known for dancing. It didn't take us long to get stupidly drunk. Soon, we were dancing like idiots and adding drinks to our tab.
Suddenly, a slow song started to play. I gasped when Glen grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and danced to the music with him. As the song played, it seemed like we got closer and closer to each other.
When the song ended, neither one of us stepped out of the embrace. Instead, we just stood there and stared at each other. For a brief second, I thought I saw his eyes glance down at my lips.
"Glen. . ." I started, but he cut me off.
"We should probably head home," he said, softer than I expected him to speak.
"You're right," I whispered.
We slowly pulled out of each other's arms. We stood there for a second before turning and walking towards the bar. I stood there as he paid our tab. I started walking out of the bar, but Glen quickly grabbed my hand. He intertwined our fingers and led me the rest of the way out.
When we got to the car, he opened the door for me, but I didn't get in. I turned toward him and used my hand that was holding his to pull him in closer. Once he was closer, I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Glen," I drunkenly whispered.
"Yes, Y/N?" He chuckled. He didn't sound as drunk as I did. Then again, he could always handle his alcohol. I, however, couldn't.
"Will you kiss me?"
My question instantly sobered him up. Even drunk, I didn't miss his eyes glancing down at my lips.
Instead of leaning in, he reached up and gently grabbed my arms. He unwrapped them from his neck and grabbed my hands. His eyes were glued to our intertwined hands. I bit my bottom lip as it took him longer than I wished for him to respond.
He cleared his throat before softly saying, "Ask me again when you're sober."
I looked into his eyes and, before I could stop myself, asked, "So. . . Does that mean you'd say yes if I wasn't drunk?"
"It means," he sighed, almost sounding strained, "ask me when you're sober."
* * * * *
I woke up the next morning, tucked into my bed with an annoying hangover. It wasn't my worst hangover. It was more of a migraine hangover.
I slowly got ready and headed downstairs. I froze in the kitchen doorway when I saw Glen making breakfast.
"Morning," he greeted. He poured a cup of coffee and smirked at me as he handed it to me.
"Morning," I grumbled as I took it from him. He laughed as I took a large sip.
"How's the hangover?" He teased. I cringed when he poked my side.
"It's not too bad," I sighed, taking another large sip of coffee.
"Migraine?" He asked. I looked up at him to see him looking at me with nothing but worry.
"Little one," I tried to shrug off.
"Liar," he smirked. He turned around and instinctively grabbed the pain medication I had in the cabinet. I smiled appreciatively at him as I took the pain medication.
"I'm almost done with breakfast," he said, studying me. "You should eat something."
He started to walk away, so I quickly grabbed his hand. When he turned toward me, I lost most of my nerve.
"Glen," I whispered, struggling to gather my nerve back, "I need you to tell me something."
"Anything," he shrugged. I looked down at his hand still in mine. I took a shaky breath before looking up at him. Something in my eyes must have made him worried because he grabbed my other hand and pulled me a step closer to him.
"What happened last night?" I blurted out.
"You. . . You don't remember?"
The look in his eyes gave me my answer. I decided to push the issue anyway.
"I wanted to know if you remembered," I said, dropping my voice. I held my breath when Glen cleared his throat.
"I do," he whispered.
I quickly pulled my hands out of his and nervously took a few steps away from him.
"I'm really sorry, Glen," I nervously stuttered. "I don't know why I would ask you to kiss me. Sure, it's been a while since I kissed a guy. I mean. . . The last guy I kissed was my last boyfriend. And I dated him back when you were filming Scream Queens. Either way, that doesn't matter. You're my best friend. Asking you to kiss me was way crossing the line. So how about this? Let's forget it. Let's pretend that everything that happened last night didn't happen. Okay? Sound good? Great. I'm gonna go. . . somewhere else. I'm so sorry, Glen."
I started to walk away from him, but Glen didn't let me get to the doorway into the hall. He suddenly grabbed my hand, spun me around, and pulled me into his chest. I gasped when I looked up to see how close we were.
"You know," he said slowly as he dropped his voice to just above a whisper, "I've been thinking a lot about last night."
"Glen. . ." I stuttered, trying to walk away. He stopped me again.
"You're sober now."
My breath got stuck in my throat at those simple words. Glen waited for a brief second before slowly starting to lean in. I tilted my head up, making our lips finally touch.
The second they did, I let out a small moan. When Glen heard me, he pulled me closer to his chest. Our lips moved in sync for a little bit before Glen broke the kiss.
When I looked up at him, he was smiling softly at me. He reached up and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb.
"I've been wanting to do that for a very long time," he whispered.
"Why didn't you?"
"I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he said gently. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to kiss me just as badly as I wanted to kiss you."
"So let me get this straight," I smirked as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You needed my permission before kissing me?"
"I didn't want to ruin what we have," he shrugged. I stood on my toes and gently kissed him. When I broke the kiss, I stayed close to him.
"When I asked you to kiss me last night, you couldn't accept that because I was drunk," I noted.
"That's right," Glen nodded his head. I felt my whole body warm up as he leaned his forehead against mine. "You're not a drunken one-night stand, Y/N. You're the girl I want for the rest of my life."
I tightened my arms around him, wanting us to be closer. "You're the boy I want for the rest of my life."
Warnings: teasing, foreplay, undressing, tension, loud, unprotected sex, hotel room sex, language
Reader's POV
While Danny and Chad were at the game, I busied myself in town. I got back to the hotel before they did. I was sitting and watching some random TV movie when the door opened.
"Oh," he said, slightly faltering in his path when he saw me. "Hi."
"Hey," I smiled. "Where's Danny?"
"He went straight to his room," Russ said, putting his football bag on the table and walking over to me. "I'm kind of surprised to see you're still here?"
"I had nothing better to do," I shrugged. "Plus, I didn't want to drive all the way back tonight."
"Did you. . . Did you eat anything?" He asked, absentmindedly wiping his hands on his pants.
"Not yet," I shrugged. I sighed when I saw him still awkwardly standing by the door. "Will you come in? You don't have to be so weird."
He chuckled awkwardly as he walked over and sat as far away from me as he could on the couch. I scoffed as I stood up and walked over to the mini-bar.
"What are you. . ."
"We need to relax," I cut him off. I grabbed a few drinks from the minibar and turned toward him, holding them up with a smirk on my face.
"Grab the room service menu while you're at it," he smirked, finally relaxing.
An hour later, we had eaten a half-decent hotel meal and drank about half the minibar. We were also a lot closer than we were an hour ago. The tension that's been between the two of us since the first time I helped him with his disguise returned when the characters in the movie we were watching started making out.
The minute we looked at each other, the tension snapped. I grabbed his face, and he grabbed my waist, each of us pulling the other closer. Our lips smashed against each other, and it felt like we melted into each other.
Our lips moved messily in sync as our hands roamed each other's bodies. Without breaking the kiss, Russ pulled me into his chest and lay us down with him hovering over me. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck as he rolled his body against mine.
Things sped up quickly between the two of us. I moaned each time he rolled his body against mine. He moaned each time I ran my fingers through his hair. It wasn't until he slid his hand up my thigh that I had to stop.
"Wait," I gasped, breaking the kiss.
"What's wrong?" Russ asked. I smirked when I looked at his disguise. I reached up and slowly pulled off his wig.
"To be honest, I don't really want to sleep with Chad Powers," I smirked. I gasped when he leaned down and smashed his lips to mine. I moaned as our lips moved messily in sync.
"Give me five minutes," he moaned against my lips. I laughed as Russ quickly got off of me and ran to the bathroom. I sat up and leaned against the couch cushions on the uncomfortable hotel couch. I stood up when I got an idea.
While Russ took off his Chad Powers makeup, I moved over to his bed. I tossed my hair aside and pulled my shirt down to try to look sexy. It was clear that it had worked when Russ walked in and froze when he saw me.
"What?" I asked, faking innocence.
"Damn," he moaned. I laughed when he tore off his shirt and was next to me in the blink of an eye.
The second he got to me, I lay down and allowed him to climb on top of me. I held my breath when he hovered over me. He didn't lean down and kiss me right away. Instead, he just studied me.
"Is anything wrong?" I asked, my voice soft.
"No," he said quickly. He let out a small laugh as he added, "I was just. . . I've been with lots of girls." He stopped talking when he saw the look on my face. "I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered.
"Yeah, you did," I shrugged. I smirked as I pressed my hands to his chest. I dragged them up and down his chest before wrapping them around his neck.
He laughed as he moved, leaning on his elbows and bringing his body closer to mine. "Yeah, I did. Anyway, I've been with other girls," he said, changing his wording, "but this feels different."
"Different. . . How?"
"Whenever I was with other girls, I felt. . . numb. I mean, it was great during," he laughed. He stopped laughing when he saw the look on my face. He cleared his throat before adding, "But afterwards, I'd always feel empty."
"But with me?" I couldn't help but ask.
"With you," he said, leaning closer to me, "it feels electric."
"Electric?" I teased, tilting my head up so our lips brushed against each other.
"On fire," he moaned.
I moaned when he pressed his lips to mine. I ran my fingers through his hair as our lips started moving messily in sync. When he broke the kiss, I arched my back, trying to keep our lips together for as long as possible.
He leaned back, the look in his eyes different, more serious. "It feels like this could be something real," he whispered. "Do you. . . What do you think?"
I grabbed his face and brought his lips back to mine. I felt him smile as our lips instantly started moving in sync. I broke the kiss with my hands still on his face, keeping his forehead pressed to mine.
"Call me crazy, but I think it could be something real," I whispered. He leaned back and looked into my eyes with a smirk on his face.
"Then let's do this, crazy," he whispered.
I gasped, and it quickly turned into a moan when he roughly pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started running my fingers through his hair, pulling on a few strands to make him moan.
Without breaking the kiss, Russ tore off my jeans. I reached up and slid off his football pants. When he started to pull my shirt over my head, I roughly pushed him to break the kiss.
He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off by rolling us over so I was hovering over him. His surprise was quickly replaced by a smirk. I sent him an "innocent" smile as I grabbed my shirt and slowly pulled it over my head. As I did, I felt him getting harder underneath me.
I used my shirt to hide my face long enough for me to change my "innocent" smile into a smirk.
"Fuck," he moaned, his eyes glued to my chest. His eyes remained there as I reached behind me and unhooked my bra. I bit my bottom lip as I slowly slid my bra straps off and dropped them on the floor.
I very obviously bit my bottom lip, not looking away from his eyes, as I used both hands to grab the waistband of his boxers. As I yanked them down, he gasped but cut himself off with a moan.
I looked down at his size and moaned. "Damn, baby," I said breathlessly. "I can't wait to have you inside me."
I grabbed his face and roughly smashed my lips onto his. He put his hand on the back of my neck, bringing me closer to him. As our lips moved messily and hungrily in sync, Russ grabbed my waist.
I grunted, breaking the kiss, when he roughly brought my hips down to his. We stared into each other's eyes as he moved my hips, making me grind against him. The movements started out slow, but both of us got more and more impatient.
"I fucking need you," he growled as he quickly rolled us over so he was back on top.
"Then hurry up and fucking take me, baby," I moaned. My moan got caught in my throat when Russ pressed his lips to mine. It felt like every time we touched each other sent a pulse of lightning through our bodies.
And neither one of us tried to put it out. At least not until we were both satisfied.
"Why are these still on?" He angrily grumbled as he tore my underwear off. I moaned when I heard fabric ripping. That sound officially set us on fire, forcing us to finally give in to each other.
"Oh, baby," I moaned. "Please, fucking give it to me. . ."
My request got stuck in my throat when Russ leaned down and attached his lips to my chest. I swore as he left open-mouth kisses on my breasts. I put my hand on the back of his head, smushing him between my breasts.
"Fucking hell, Holliday," I gasped when he focused on one of my breasts.
"Damn, you taste so good," he moaned against my cleavage.
"You haven't even begun to taste me yet, baby," I moaned.
I closed my eyes and focused on how it felt to be touched by him. Sure, I've been with guys. But none of them had this kind of effect on me. His hands were massaging my hips, but I could only focus on his lips and his tongue.
"Please tell me you have a condom," I moaned as he switched breasts.
"I'll have to get up," he moaned, not pulling his face away from my chest.
"Let's risk it," I said, grabbing his face and forcing him to detach. He opened his mouth to say something, but I pulled his face down to mine. He chuckled against my lips before obeying my request.
My whole body was on fire as he opened my thighs and got into position. When he finally pushed into me, I broke the kiss and choked on my moan.
"Holy shit!" I yelled. "Fucking hell, Russ."
"Keep moaning my name, baby girl," he growled as he kept thrusting into me. He smirked before changing his request, "Keep yelling my name."
I did exactly that as I let him do the kind of things I only did in my darkest, dirtiest dreams.
"Oh, Russ!" I yelled, arching my back and making him push deeper into me. He smashed his lips to mine, moving them messily against mine as he pushed deeper and deeper into me.
His movements were fast and then slow and then fast and then slow to drag this on. I lost track of time as we both took turns pushing each other close to giving in as we wanted before switching. This game went on for a while before, finally, I felt Russ release into me.
"Fuck," he gasped as he let go.
"I'm not done yet, baby," I moaned. I wrapped my leg around his waist, bringing his hips closer to mine. He thrusts in and out of me a few more times.
"Come on, baby," he moaned into my ear, slightly nibbling on it. "Cum for me."
I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, making him gasp. He got back at me by pushing himself deeper into me and holding. Then he whispered something that made me finally give in.
"Stop holding back," he growled into my ear before squeezing my breast.
"Fuck!" I yelled as I finally released. We stayed intertwined for a second before he slowly, very slowly, pulled out of me. He had a smirk on his face when his slow movement made me gasp.
"Sorry, darling," he chuckled. "Didn't mean to hurt you."
Russ leaned down and pressed a messy kiss to my lips before grunting and collapsing next to me on the bed.
"That felt so fucking good," I moaned as I relaxed.
"Glad I could satisfy your dirty needs, baby," he chuckled so deeply, I felt the bed vibrate.
The room filled with the sounds of us catching our breaths instead of us fulfilling each other's dirty desires. I felt Russ look at me, so I slowly looked at him. The second my eyes fell on his, he smiled. I rolled toward him, and he copied me. I reached up and put my hand delicately on his bare chest.
"Your tattoos are horrible," I teased. He laughed as he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
"I know," he chuckled. "I was drunk."
"You and your drunken mistakes, Holliday."
He leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to mine. I broke the kiss when something that should've popped into my head hours ago finally popped in.
"What's wrong?" Russ asked, instantly catching on to this.
"I have. . . I need. . . I meant it when I said I could see something happening with us," I struggled to get out.
"I did too," he said softly as he reached up and cupped my face in his hand.
"But there's one thing I need you to do."
"Anything," he said instantly. I felt the tension I caused slightly lighten as I smirked up at him.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I sighed as Danny struggled to hold the piece. I laughed when he dropped it.
"Look," Danny snapped, "I may know how to do makeup, but this kind of makeup is different. I've never dealt with extra pieces like these."
"Well," I mumbled, "you better figure it out because we have a game in three hours."
He didn't figure it out.
An hour later, he still couldn't get the piece to stay on my face. "Okay," I said, moving his hands away from my face. "This is useless. What are we going to do?"
"I don't. . ."
I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "What?" I snapped, losing my patience.
He ran over and grabbed something out of his bag. I jumped up when I saw what it was.
"Who are you calling?!" I panicked.
"My sister," Danny said, trying to calm me.
"Why are you calling your sister?" I asked through my teeth.
"She's a makeup artist for the big theater company in town," he explained. "She works on all the shows. If anyone can make you look convincing, it's my sister."
The second Y/N walked in and saw me, she started laughing.
"What have you done to him?" She said through her laughs.
"You said I didn't look bad," I scowled at Danny.
"He lied," Y/N giggled.
"Can you stop being an ass and help?" Danny asked.
"Alright, alright," she said, with her hands up in defense. "Step aside, boys. Let the professional take over. And save this shitstorm."
I glared at her, but it didn't last long. She just giggled again as she grabbed some things out of her makeup briefcase, similar to the one I stole from my dad. When she turned her back toward me, I got this weird feeling in my gut. As soon as the smile started to form, I forced it to stop.
About forty-five minutes later, Y/N was done. Thanks to her, my disguise looked amazing.
"Damn," I chuckled, standing up and looking at myself in the mirror. "Chad Powers is real."
"Chad Powers?" She giggled. "Seriously?"
"What?" I chuckled. "I panicked."
"Wait a minute," she said, holding back her laughter. "Are you telling me that you came up with the idea to create a whole new identity, but you didn't stop and come up with a name?"
"Well. . ."
"Oh boy," she said, not holding back her laughter anymore. "Don't tell me: you make up Chad Powers's history on the spot."
We stared at each other for ten seconds before she started laughing uncontrollably.
"Okay," I sighed.
I stood up, but her back was to me as she continued to giggle. My breath got caught in my throat when she suddenly turned around, revealing how close we were.
"I like your laugh," I whispered. My heart jumped into my throat when I realized I said that out loud.
"Thanks," she whispered, her face slowly turning pink. "I like making fun of you."
"In the past," I said, unable to look away from her eyes, "I'd punch someone in the face for making fun of me. But you? I'm okay with."
"Good to know," she smirked. She sent me a wink before turning on her heel.
Not wanting her to leave just yet, I spoke up. "Thanks for doing this."
She turned around, and I hated the feeling I got when she smiled at me. "To be honest," she said lightly, "this was more fun than any show makeup I've done."
"Really?" I stuttered.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "I've been doing theater makeup for so long that it's kind of boring. This was new."
Y/N started to walk away, but stopped. She turned around and said, "Thanks for trusting me, Holliday."
"Thanks for doing such a good job," I said with a smile that felt strained. "You really saved our asses. . . You saved my ass."
"Do me a favor?"
"Anything," I said a little too quickly.
"Go out there and kick some ass, Powers," she smirked. "Make all my hard work worth it."
* * * * *
Reader's POV
Ever since Danny called me, freaking out about his whole Chad Powers thing, the two of them have constantly asked me for help. After a month of running to campus at the last minute to help, I finally spent a whole day showing them how to do it.
There were a couple more last-minute "emergencies" before I could spend the weekend at home and not drive to a game. I was about to enjoy a night of binging a horrible reality show and drinking too much wine.
When my headache started, I put the wine away. I sat back down and finished the episode I was watching. As the credits started to roll, my phone started to ring.
"We're out of glue!!" Danny yelled the second I answered the phone. "And he's playing later today. Y/N, you have to help us!"
"Okay," I sighed. "Calm down."
"All the stores are closed!" Danny yelled.
"Stop yelling, Danny!" I yelled into the phone.
"Sorry," he said, finally calming down. "We're freaking out."
"I can tell," I laughed.
"Give me the phone," I heard Russ say. "My game is in two hours. Any chance you can get here by then?"
"You guys aren't that far," I shrugged. "I have everything you guys usually use. Give me an hour to get out there. That gives you an hour to find a way to sneak me into Chad Powers's hotel room."
"That may be a problem," Russ sighed.
"Just make sure none of your coaches are in the hallway," I said simply. "It's not that hard to sneak someone into a hotel room."
"And how would you know?" Russ teased.
"Eww," I heard Danny say. "Please don't flirt with my sister."
"Wouldn't you like to know, Holliday," I teased back.
"Eww," Danny repeated. "Please don't flirt with him."
"Okay," I laughed. "I'm on my way. I'll text you when I'm in the hotel lobby."
"Thanks, Y/N!" Danny yelled before hanging up.
I laughed as I put my phone in my back pocket. I went to my bathroom and gathered up the different theater makeup that I had. I got in the car and listened to music as I drove to the address my brother sent me.
I found his room and knocked on the door. I laughed when it was ripped open. The second he opened it, Danny grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room.
"Geez," I laughed. "Take it easy, boys. The last time I was around boys freaking out about makeup was when I helped the local theater with their makeup for Guys and Dolls."
"We're not freaking out," Danny said.
"Shouldn't you be the one freaking out?" I asked, leaning so I could see Russ. He just laughed.
"You got this?" Danny asked, staring between Russ and me.
"This is my job," I smirked. "Where are you going?"
"Umm," he elongated, "I have to get ready, too."
"Of course," I laughed. "So sorry, Mr. Mascot."
Russ and I laughed as Danny left the room. We turned toward each other, and a small tension fell between us.
"Have a seat," I said, nodding toward a chair. "I'll get started."
"You are saving our asses, Y/N," he said, sitting down and rubbing his hands on his football pants. "Again."
"I know," I smirked.
We sat comfortably in silence as I started his makeup. Eventually, I had to ask the question that's been bugging me for months.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked as I finished gluing a piece of his prosthetics on.
"Of course." His breath got caught in his throat when I grabbed his chin. I slightly moved his head so I could get to the side of his face better.
"Is all of this worth it?"
"What do you mean?" He stuttered.
"Football," I tried to clarify. "You've created a completely new identity just to play a game. Keeping up the facade, worrying about your wig coming off during practice, and freaking out about makeup. . . Is all of that worth playing a game?"
"To me, it is," he shrugged. I slowly let go of his face and stared at him.
"Really?" I challenged. "It's just a game. In a few years, you may not be able to play it anyway."
"It's my life," he added, his voice slightly changing. "It's all I've ever known. I mean. . . Sure, it's silly, but I've devoted my entire life to being the best."
"I understand that," I nodded. I hesitated before adding, "But you could always find something else to devote your life to."
"Like what?" He tried to laugh. We stared at each other, the tension between us thickening.
"That's for you to figure out, Holliday."
I finished his makeup without another word. Soon, he was putting together his football bag, and I was putting my makeup away. When I looked up, he was staring at me.
"You should probably get going," I said softly, struggling to swallow down the nerves. He nodded before grabbing something from the TV stand. I held my breath as he walked over to me.
"Here," Russ said, a playful glint in his eyes.
"A key?"
"It's the spare," he clarified. "I didn't want you to be shut up in the room. This way you can walk around town, go get something to eat. . ."
"Come to the game," I added when he paused.
"If you want to," he stuttered.
"I would," I hesitated as my smile slightly fell. "But I'm not really into big, loud sporting events."
"I understand," he shrugged, even though I'm sure he didn't. The two of us held a weirdly tense staring contest. He lowered his voice as he said, "I really appreciate your willingness to help, Y/N. Especially the number of times we've called you, freaking out and making you run to campus."
"I'm used to my brother's last-minute requests," I chuckled. My smile slowly fell.
"I mean it," he said, his voice slightly changing. "Thank you."
We stared at each other for a few beats before Russ slightly cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his pants, and glanced away from me. I watched as he opened and closed his mouth, hesitating to say something. I was about to ask him if something was wrong, but he finally spoke up.
"I should probably get to the game," he laughed awkwardly. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Careful," I smirked. "You're gonna pull your wig off."
"Right," he chuckled nervously.
"Good luck out there, Chad Powers," I teased.
"Thanks," he said, his face turning pink. "I'll umm. . ." He stuttered. "I'll see you later."
"See you later, Powers," I said. My saying his fake last name made him awkwardly chuckle again. He waved before quickly tucking out of the room.
Wow, Russ Holliday being nervous around a girl. Didn't expect that.
I waved at my team as I jogged up the motel stairs. I was too tired to notice that someone was following me. I unlocked the door and was about to close it when someone caught it.
"Tyler," I slightly gasped. I chuckled as I said, "I didn't know you were behind me."
"Sorry," he chuckled awkwardly. He wiped his hands on his pants before shoving them into his pockets. "Boone ordered like 9 pizzas. They should be here soon."
"I'm not hungry," I shrugged as I tossed my suitcase onto the bed.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"I'm fine, Tyler," I chuckled. He walked into my room, grabbed my arm, and slowly turned me toward him.
"We've been driving all day, and you've only had granola bars."
"Honestly," I sighed, "I'm more tired than hungry. Driving all day makes me feel gross. All I really wanna do is take a hot shower and go to bed."
Tyler swallowed for some reason and cleared his throat, looking away from me. He reached up and scratched the back of his neck.
He cleared his throat before speaking up. "Well, if you get done with your. . . shower and you're hungry, let me know. I can warm you up some leftover pizza or run out and get you a burger."
"There's no need to run out at 11 o'clock at night just to get me a burger," I chuckled. "I'm fine, Tyler."
"Okay," he said after a brief pause. He started to walk away, but stopped. I watched as he slowly turned toward me. "I'm right next door if you need anything, Y/N. If you do end up hungry, let me know, and I'll go get food with you."
"I can go by myself," I started to say. Tyler cut me off by shaking his head.
"I don't want you going out alone, Y/N."
"I'm a big girl, Tyler."
"But we're in an unknown city," he said, matching my tone. "Y/N, I don't like the idea of you going out alone. What if something happened? What if you got stuck out in a storm? What if you didn't come back? What if. . ."
"Tyler," I cut off his rambling, closed the gap between us, and grabbed his hands. "I'm fine. I can walk around town on my own. There isn't a storm warning, and the nearest storm is three towns away."
"I worry about you," he stuttered. "I mean. . . I worry about everyone. If something were to happen to anyone on our team, I couldn't live with myself."
"Then you have nothing to worry about because you would never let anything happen to any of us," I smiled. I paused before adding, "Now, you should go get something to eat. I still want to shower before going to bed."
"Good night, Y/N," he said, staring at me kind of strangely.
"Good night, Owens."
* * * * *
The second I walked out of my motel room the next morning, Tyler ran over to me.
"Hey," he smiled as he handed me a cup of coffee.
"Thanks," I smiled as I took it. As I drank a small sip, I looked around at our team packing the cars. "We got a storm to chase after?"
"No," he said, looking at me for a second before following my eyes. "But you know me; I can't stay in the same place for long."
I laughed as I playfully pushed his shoulder. I walked away, not realizing his eyes were still on me, as I went over to the girls.
". . . and she doesn't even notice it," Dani was saying to Lily as I walked over to them.
"Who doesn't notice what?" I asked. They looked at me for a second before glancing at each other. "What?" I pushed. "Who are you talking about?"
"Honey," Lily sighed, "we're talking about you."
"Me?" I tried to laugh. "And what is it that I don't notice?"
"Tyler," the two said in sync.
"What about Tyler?" I asked slowly.
"Girl," Dani laughed, "come on! How do you not see it?"
"See what?" I asked, losing my patience.
Lily walked over to me and lowered her voice as she said, "Tyler is crazy about you."
"What?" I scoffed, taking a few steps away from them.
"He has had feelings for you since the moment you joined the group," Dani added.
"That's ridiculous," I said.
"How can you be so oblivious?" Lily chuckled.
"Tyler doesn't have feelings for me," I tried to say firmly.
"You sure?" Dani challenged with a smirk on her face. "Why do you think that when we're on a chase, he basically demands that you're in his truck?"
"He doesn't demand," I stuttered. "He just. . . We all have our signature spots when we chase."
"Come on," Lily laughed. "How about the fact that when we go out for drinks, he's constantly hovering over you, making sure no guy gets too close to you?"
"That's not because he has feelings for me," I said quickly. "He only does that because of what happened that one time. That drunk guy kept hitting on me."
"And Tyler was ready to throw that guy in the path of a tornado," Dani laughed.
"You guys were all protective of me when that happened," I reminded them. "So does that mean that you all have feelings for me?"
"Nope," Lily shrugged.
"Just Tyler," Dani smirked.
"Okay," I shook off. "Please stop this. I don't need you filling my head with stupid, crazy, out-there accusations."
"Lily was right," Dani laughed. "You are oblivious."
I walked away and helped Dex go through the equipment. I hated the way it felt when Tyler walked over and put something away. We held our eyes for a second before I forced myself to look away. I cleared my throat and found a reason to walk away.
A little while later, I was still thinking about that stupid thought Dani and Lily put in my head. I was so distracted by those thoughts that I didn't notice my hand reaching for the box of unopened medical supplies actually grabbed spare metal from Boone's experiments. I gasped in pain when I grabbed it.
"What's wrong?" Tyler panicked as he ran over to me.
"Nothing," I stuttered as he grabbed my hand and started examining the cut. "It's just. . . I cut myself on one of the extra pieces of metal from Boone's. . ."
"I told you to get rid of those, Boone," Tyler snapped. "I told you someone was going to get hurt."
"It's not Boone's fault," I said quickly. Tyler looked back at me, and his eyes softened. We held our eye contact for a few more seconds before he looked down at my hand.
"We should get this cleaned and wrapped," he said, still studying my hand. I looked up to see Dani and Lily smirking at us. I quickly pulled my hand out of his.
"It's fine," I said. "It's not that deep."
He tried to stop me, but I ignored him and quickly ran up to my motel room. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned against it.
"Damn it, Dani and Lily."
* * * * *
A few days later, we rolled into a small town after spending two days chasing a storm. After we got settled into our motel rooms, we decided to go to the bar. I was sitting at our table, watching my friends drunkenly try to get a coin into an empty cup by bouncing it.
I laughed when it bounced out. "Maybe the cup is supposed to be full of Scotch," Boone laughed.
"Or you just need talent," I smirked. I grabbed the coin and instantly bounced it into the cup. The group cheered when it went right in. My eyes froze when they landed on Tyler, smiling at me.
To get away, I grabbed my almost-empty cup and went to the bar. "I'm gonna get a refill," I said. I walked over to the bar and ordered another drink. I sat on an empty barstool and waited as the bartender made me my drink.
"You okay?"
I looked over my shoulder to see Tyler softly smiling at me. This smile was different than the one earlier. This one had a bit of worry in it.
"I'm fine," I said, turning away from him.
"Are you sure?" He gently pushed, sitting on the barstool next to me. "You seemed a little in your head this last chase."
"Just a little homesick, I guess," I quickly lied.
"Oh," Tyler said under his breath. "Well. . . We could head home, if that would help."
"No," I said quickly. "I'm fine. I usually get like this every once in a while. I'm fine, though."
"Are you sure?" He double checked, reaching over and gently putting his hand on my arm.
I stared at his hand for a second before looking up at him. The minute I did, I felt like my eyes were glued to him. The longer we stared into each other's eyes, the more I thought about my conversation with Dani and Lily the other day. I cleared my throat and quickly looked away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tyler open and close his mouth like he was struggling to say something. Before he could, the bartender handed me my drink. I quickly took it and returned to the group.
I pretended to listen to the story Dex was telling, but my eyes glanced at Tyler. He was still on his barstool, but a tall blonde girl had taken my spot. My heart sank when I noticed the girl was flirting with Tyler. As soon as I realized that I was jealous, I quickly grabbed my bag.
"Where are you going?" Boone asked.
"Back to the motel," I answered simply.
"Why?" Dex asked. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," I said quickly. "I just. . ."
My sentence got stuck in my throat when I glanced over and saw the girl stroke his arm. I cleared my throat and looked away.
"My wine is giving me a headache," I finally said. "I'm gonna go back to the motel and lie down before it gets worse."
They didn't stop me as I quickly left the bar without telling Tyler.
* * * * *
I forced myself not to think about Tyler and what he could be doing with that girl at the bar. I turned on some random, horrible TV movie and forced myself to focus on the storyline.
"This is ridiculous," I scoffed. "She should so obviously be with the cute guy she grew up with. Her Wall Street fiancé is rude to her and doesn't believe in her dreams."
My movie analysis was interrupted when someone knocked on the door. I hesitated before answering the door.
"Tyler," I stuttered, "what are you doing here?"
"Are you serious?" He snapped.
"Yes," I said slowly.
"I walked back to the group, and you weren't there," he said, as if it should be obvious why he was so angry.
"The drinks were giving me a headache, so I came back to the motel to lie down," I shrugged.
"Without telling me," he pointed out.
"I don't understand why you're so upset," I sighed.
"I'm upset because you didn't tell me," he said again.
I cleared my throat and crossed my arms over my chest. "I didn't think you'd care," I said, looking away. "You were busy."
"Busy?" He repeated. "I was at the bar with our friends."
"And you were making new friends," I mumbled.
"What are you. . ."
"Never mind," I cut him off. "Is me leaving without telling you the reason you came back and pounded on my motel room door?"
"You really don't get it, do you?"
I finally looked back at him to see the anger I had opened the door to, suddenly gone.
"Get what?" I stuttered.
"All these years. . ." He said, studying me. "And you never realized it."
"Tyler," I sighed, "will you just spit it out? I'm tired of people being secretive and teasing with me. At this point, it might be easier for me to go home."
"Go home?" He gasped. "Y/N. . ."
"I can't take this anymore, Tyler," I said, going back to not looking at him. It didn't last long.
"Can't take what?"
"Do you know that our team talks about us?" I asked.
"What do you. . ."
"They talk about us, Tyler," I started to nervously ramble. "They study us, judge us, and gossip about us. Doesn't that bother you? I have known about it for almost two days now, and it makes me feel horrible."
"Horrible?" He whispered.
"I feel like I'm back in high school," I realized. "And I don't want to feel like this anymore."
"Y/N, wait. . ."
He started to take a step toward me, but I quickly took one away. "After this season, when we go home, I'm gonna take a break. And let's be honest, I don't impact the team. I'm not figuring out the calculations. I'm not inventing new material. I'm just. . . there. I'm just another body in the truck. Another person you have to keep safe. It's better for everyone if I'm just out of the way."
"Damn it, Y/N," Tyler snapped. "Can't you see how much I care about you?"
"You care about all of us," I stuttered. My breath got caught in my throat when he took a step closer to me. This time, I didn't step back.
"No," he said, dropping his voice. "Not the same way I care about you."
"I don't understand," I stuttered. I awkwardly chuckled to try to get the frog out of my throat. "Then again, Dani and Lily both told me I was oblivious."
"Well then," he smirked, "maybe I need to do something a little more obvious."
I held my breath as he gently grabbed my face and pulled me closer. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently to mine. The kiss started slowly. Tyler didn't push things until I started it. Once I started kissing him back, he deepened the kiss. We slowly broke the kiss, looking instantly into each other's eyes.
"I guess they were right," I whispered, still out of breath from the kiss.
"Who?" Tyler chuckled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
"Lily and Dani," I said. "They were right the other day when they said that you had feelings for me."
Tyler leaned in and delicately pressed another kiss to my lips. When he broke the kiss, he kept his forehead pressed against mine.
"They were definitely right," he whispered. "They were also right about the fact that you are incredibly oblivious."
I rolled my eyes and playfully pushed him away from me. He instantly caught my hands and pulled me back into his chest.
"How could you not see how absolutely crazy I've been about you all these years?"
"Honest mistake," I shrugged, making him chuckle. I wrapped my arms around his neck and said, "But I promise to never be oblivious to how you feel about me ever again."
I ran a few tests that I run on my own when someone joined me under my plane.
"Jake," I gasped. He didn't give me time to say much else.
He grabbed my waist, brought me to him, and pressed his lips to mine. For a brief second, I forgot we were on base. It was remembering that no one should know about us that got me to break the kiss.
Jake and I started dating after his first kill. We flew that mission together. That night, we went out and got so drunk that we woke up the next morning in his Navy-issued apartment. We talked all morning about our feelings and what we should do. We decided to start a relationship but keep it a secret.
Which was a lot easier said than done.
"Jake," I whispered, breaking the kiss, "we're not supposed to be fooling around on base. We agreed."
"I know," he pouted. "But with training and those stupid regulations, we can't. . ."
"Those stupid regulations are rules that we can't date," I reminded him. "Dating could be distracting."
"Are you saying you're distracted by me?" He smirked. I gasped when his hands slid down my back and found my ass.
"Damn right," I moaned before pressing my lips to his. I felt him smile against my lips as we kissed. "Jake, no," I sighed, breaking the kiss and pushing him away from me. "If Maverick finds out about us, he won't let us fly together anymore."
"I know," he said, his tone no longer playful. "To be honest, Sunflower, I hate hiding our relationship."
"I know, baby," I smiled. "But the mission is in a few months. Once it's done, we can. . ."
"We might be sent to different bases, Y/N. Or ships," he said, walking away from me. I instantly stopped him. He didn't fight me as I pulled him into my chest, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.
We broke the kiss when we heard someone else walk into the hangar. I smiled when Jake instinctively pulled me into his chest and moved us so we were better hidden by my plane.
My smile turned into a smirk when he pushed me, so I was pinned between him and my plane. He craned his neck to look around my plane. When he saw who it was, he let out a small scoff.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice soft. I started to look at what made him so angry, but Jake quickly pulled me back.
"Jake," I whispered with a small chuckle. "It's my plane. It's not weird that I'm here."
I walked around so I was visible, and I could see who it was. As soon as I saw who was working on their plane not far from mine, his reaction made sense. Jake wasn't hiding me from the new person. He was hiding me from Rooster. I looked back over at Jake, still hiding.
"Jake. . ."
"As hard as it is to keep us a secret, him being here doesn't make it any easier," Jake said, glancing toward Rooster.
"Jake," I sighed, "I have told you a hundred times. There is nothing between Rooster and me anymore. That went away a long time ago."
"Try telling him that," he said through his teeth. My stomach sank when Jake walked away.
* * * * *
Before I met Jake, I knew Rooster. We were in basic training together. During training, the rules on dating were a lot lighter, so we didn't have to work as hard to hide our relationship as Jake and I had to.
Things with Rooster and me didn't end well. One day, he came over, and he was different. I tried to get him to open up and tell me what was wrong. He snapped at me and, long story short, broke up with me later that week.
A few dates into my and Jake's relationship, we asked the cliché question of past relationships. He told me about his drunken one-night stands. I told him about Rooster. I saw the anger in him the minute we were transferred to Top Gun together, and he recognized Rooster.
The past few months of training have been strained. Whenever Jake and I are alone, Rooster just happens to ruin that. Whenever Jake and Rooster fly together, Jake is harsh on him because of me. Rooster has no idea. He just responds to Jake's actions.
I walked into the bar and instantly saw Jake and Rooster. "Oh boy," I mumbled as I walked over to them.
"You know," Jake was saying as he sat on the edge of the pool table, "your problem is pretty simple."
"Oh, is it?" Rooster mocked.
"You're too slow," Jake laughed. "You gotta pick up the pace if you wanna catch me."
"Who says I wanna catch you?" Rooster scoffed.
"Alright, boys," I sighed. "Play nice."
"You know when I wasn't slow?" Rooster smirked, turning toward me.
Oh no, I thought. Please don't.
"Bradley," I warned.
"I wasn't slow when Y/N and I were dating in training."
"Bradley," I said harsher this time, "don't."
"Come on, Sunflower," he said. When Rooster said my call-sign, I noticed Jake cringe. "There's no point in hiding what we had."
"What we had was a childish relationship," I scoffed. "Nothing was ever real or serious."
"I wouldn't say that," he stuttered.
"Wouldn't you?" I challenged. "Our training got in the way of our relationship. All. The. Time. Don't you remember the date after I beat you on the simulator? You stormed out and left me there."
"You did what?" Jake sneared. I sent him a look that instantly calmed him down. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. He forced a laugh as he added, "Kind of a dick move to leave a girl at a restaurant by herself, all because she beat you at a simulator."
"I went back and got her," Rooster tried to defend himself.
"An hour later," I scoffed. "I had to get a cab."
"Piece of shit," Jake mumbled. I sent him another look, but he ignored me this time. "No man should leave a girl at a restaurant like that."
"Look. . ."
"And all because she beat you on the simulator," Jake added. "What kind of man does that?"
"That's kind of ironic coming from you," Rooster said, finally snapping out of the defensive.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake asked, taking a step toward him.
"It means," Rooster smirked when he realized he was getting under Jake's skin, "that you got your callsign 'Hangman' for a reason. You leave a man hanging."
"That's only in the air," Jake said through a clenched jaw.
"I can't imagine how you would treat a woman," Rooster laughed. "Then again, what kind of woman would be dumb enough to fall for you?"
That comment caught Jake off-guard. He glanced at me, his eyes sinking when he saw the expression on my face.
"You guys are both pathetic," I scolded before turning on my heel and walking out of the bar.
The entire drive home, my phone rang. Jake called me over and over again, but I couldn't bring myself to answer. I drove to my Navy apartment and walked inside. I closed the door behind me, leaned against it, and took a shaky breath.
My relationship with Rooster was not a horrible one, but it also wasn't a good one. I figured it out fairly quickly that he was more focused on himself. He loved celebrating himself, and it always felt forced when he had to celebrate me.
It's not like that with Jake. Jake is amazingly supportive and constantly proving he's on my side. When I have a good day in the air, Jake comes to my place with flowers or champagne. When I have a bad day in the air, he comes to my place with dinner, wine, and a movie for us to watch.
The only thing contaminating our relationship was his issue with Rooster.
When my phone started ringing again, I finally answered it.
"We need to talk," I answered.
"I know," Jake sighed. "I'm on my way over now."
"Actually," I cut him off, "maybe you shouldn't."
"Y/N. . ." He stuttered.
"There is nothing going on between Rooster and me," I said, my voice breaking. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. And yet, you still push him."
"It's because of how he treats you," he tried to defend. "He thinks he's better than you."
"He treats everyone like that," I sighed. "And, let's be honest, babe, so do you."
"I only treat other people like that because it's my stupid Hangman reputation," he said quickly. "You know that."
"I do know that," I sighed. I cleared my throat before continuing, "I also know that he bothers you. But. . . Are you really willing to risk our relationship to knock him down a few pegs?"
There was silence on the line as what I said sank in. When Jake finally spoke up, his voice was softer.
"Risk our relationship?" He repeated. "What. . . What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," I stuttered, "that I don't want to be in the middle of you two anymore. Please don't keep putting me there."
I held my breath as I waited for him to respond.
"I never meant to put you there, baby," he whispered into the phone.
"I know," I sighed. "But. . ."
"But what, baby?" He asked gently.
"Please ignore him," I begged, my voice slightly breaking. "Let him be the bad guy. When he says stupid things, ignore him. Focus on our training. Focus on running the course the way Maverick wants us to. Stop thinking about my and Rooster's failed relationship and start focusing on ours. Please."
"I will," he said instantly. "I promise, baby. I'll stop focusing on Rooster."
* * * * *
Jake didn't listen to me. Instead, I sat back on the ship and listened as Hangman and Rooster argued as they flew the route. The more they yelled at each other, the more reckless they got.
"Hangman, ease up," Rooster warned. "The canyon's getting tighter."
"Negative, Rooster," Hangman said. "Increase your speed."
"You're going too fast," Rooster snapped. "We're gonna fly straight into the canyon."
"No harm in being ahead of schedule," Hangman mocked. "Come on, Rooster. Be a man and pick up the pace."
"Please don't," I mumbled to myself. I closed my eyes, wanting to leave but not able to move.
"Damn it, slow down!" Rooster yelled. I could stop the fearful tear that streamed down my cheek. "I can't stay on the course, Hangman! Take it easy! Not everyone is as eager to get themselves blown up as you are."
When alarms started going off, I quickly stood up and walked out of the room. I roamed around the ship, finally getting to the tarmac. When I did, I saw Rooster charging Jake. I stood frozen as they yelled in each other's faces.
"What the hell is your problem?!" Rooster was yelling as a few of the others held him back.
"I was flying the course!" Jake yelled back. "Not my fault you couldn't keep up."
"I couldn't keep up because you were flying too damn fast!"
I gasped, covering my mouth when Rooster charged him. He swung at him, not giving Jake any other choice than to fight back. I wanted to help, but I couldn't move.
The others tried to physically pull them apart, but it didn't work. Maverick ran over and had to physically pull them apart.
"Enough!" Maverick yelled. "When you are in the air, you have to trust one another. Flying isn't about you getting to the target first. It's about keeping each other alive as you have a mission to complete."
"I was just. . ." Rooster stuttered.
"No," Maverick cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. You are both in the wrong. Hangman, rushing to finish the course is shifting your focus from the mission at hand. That means you open yourself up to making stupid mistakes. Rooster, you have got to trust your instincts. You also need to grow a pair and stop hesitating. Hesitating means you open yourself up to making stupid mistakes."
Maverick looked between the two of them. I gasped when his eyes landed on me, and a look of understanding made its way to his face.
He knows.
I held my breath until he finally looked away from me. He sighed as he said, "More important than that, whatever the hell is going on between the two of you needs ot stop. Or else you are going to get each other killed."
"Mav. . ." Rooster started to say, but Maverick lifted his hand and shook his head.
"Rooster, a hundred push-ups," Maverick instructed. "Hangman. . . Two hundred."
When Maverick walked past me, he didn't say anything. All he did was put his hand gently on my shoulder. I tucked behind my plan as the boys started their pushups. Once Rooster was gone, I slowly walked over to Jake. When I got to him, I squatted down. He looked at me for a second before going back to his pushups.
"You could've gotten yourself killed," I whispered.
"I would've been fine," he grumbled.
"You don't know that," I said firmly. He glanced up at me and hesitated before finally going back to his pushups.
"Jake. . ." I hesitated. I sighed before forcing myself to say what was on my mind. "If you want this to work, if you want us to work, then you need to let this whole thing with Rooster and me go. It's in the past. You're the one I want to be with. But if you can't handle this, then maybe it's not worth it. . . I am begging you, Jake. Please, let it go."
I didn't wait for his response. Instead, I stood up and walked away. It took everything in me not to look back at him. If I had, I would've seen him stop doing pushups and watch me leave.
* * * * *
That night, I didn't go to the Hard Deck with everyone else. Instead, I went home and slowly drank a glass of wine. As I did, I thought about my relationship with Rooster and compared it to the one I had with Jake. The longer I analyzed the relationships, the more frustrated I got with Jake.
Ever since we started Top Gun, and I realized we'd be around Rooster, I told Jake right away. I was honest with him about everything. He said he was fine, but it was pretty clear that he was lying.
I've tried multiple times to get him to confess to me that he didn't like being around Rooster. Every time, he shrugged and said he just ignores him.
Today was a perfect example of him 'ignoring' Rooster.
My thoughts then shifted toward wondering if I could handle being constantly put in the middle of my ex-boyfriend and my current boyfriend. Right when my thoughts started getting a little dangerous, someone knocked on the door.
"I'm sorry," Jake said the second I opened my front door. Before I could say anything else, he continued, "I want us to work, baby. And I will do anything I need to to prove that to you."
"Stop fighting with Rooster."
The look in his eyes fell. He looked down and grabbed my hands. I let him pull me a step closer to him.
"I don't like the idea of you constantly being around Rooster every day," he admitted. "I hate seeing the girl I love in the same room as the guy who took advantage of her and lost the best thing that ever happened to him."
"The girl you. . . What?" I stuttered.
Jake slowly smiled as he pulled me a few steps closer. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. My breath got caught in my throat when he rubbed his nose against mine.
"The girl I love," he repeated.
I tilted my head up and pressed my lips to his. He instantly deepened the kiss by letting go of my hand and wrapping his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Without breaking the kiss, I pulled him into my apartment. We both moaned into the kiss when we hit the wall. Our lips started moving messily in sync as Jake leaned down and picked me up.
I broke the kiss and started nibbling on his neck as he carried me to my room. I let out a moan as he lay us down on the bed, me underneath him.
Once we were lying down, we finally pulled apart. Jake reached up and moved some hair out of my face.
"I meant it, Sunflower," he whispered. "I love you."
I walked into work and headed toward my desk, going the route I usually take. To be honest, it's not the fastest route. I take it because of my coworker, Y/N. When I walked this way to my desk, I passed hers.
Y/N is a junior venture capitalist in the office. She started as an assistant and worked her way toward junior venture capitalist. I passed her desk every day. Sometimes I bring her coffee or just say hello. Either way, my day doesn't feel like it starts until I see her.
And that morning, it didn't start.
When I walked by Y/N's desk, she wasn't there. Instantly, I started to panic. I slowly walked to my desk and sat down. I glanced over at Y/N's desk, my mind only thinking of horrible reasons that she wouldn't be here.
I logged into my computer and instantly opened the IM icon. Y/N's name instantly popped up - Not surprising considering the fact that I messaged her constantly every day.
Me
Hey, I didn't see you when I came in this morning. Everything okay?
I stared at my computer and eagerly waited for her to respond. After about three minutes, I started anxiously bouncing my knee.
"Come on, Y/N," I mumbled. "Answer me."
I was about to message her again when Rick stormed into the office.
"Charlie!" He snapped. "Let's go."
"Of course," I stuttered. I hesitated, glancing at my computer screen, before finally standing up. When I walked away, I hated the feeling in my gut.
I wasn't able to return to my desk for two hours. The second I had the chance, I instantly logged in and checked the IM.
Nothing.
I checked to make sure that Rick was occupied before grabbing my cell and calling Y/N. The longer it rang, the more my nerves built. I jumped and quickly hung up when Rick stormed out of his office.
"We have a meeting, Charlie," he said without stopping.
"Coming," I sighed. I put my phone in my pocket and jogged to catch up to him.
All day, I constantly checked my phone. Whenever I sat at my desk, I checked my IM. There were multiple times I was sitting wondering where Y/N could be, and Rick caught me. Each time he caught me, he yelled and told me to get my head out of the clouds.
But I couldn't. How could I? Y/N could be in trouble or hurt.
When Rick went to his "lunch" meeting, where he actually hooked up with his ex-wife, I quickly made my way to Paul's office. Paul was the venture capitalist who was training Y/N. I knocked on the door and gathered my courage.
"Charlie," he said, glancing up at me. "What can I do for you? Or did I forget something that Rick never told me?"
"No," I tried to chuckle. I cleared my throat before saying, "Hey. . . I was wondering if you've seen Y/N around today. I usually. . . We get coffee together on Mondays, but I haven't seen her."
He looked up at me, and I didn't miss his smirk. "She's not here today," he said.
"She's not?" I stuttered.
"Nope," he said a little too simply. "She got sick this weekend and asked for a couple of days off to recover."
"She's sick?" I panicked. I ignored his laugh when I turned on my heel and ran back to my desk. Without talking to Rick, I left the office.
* * * * *
Reader's POV
"Charlie?" I weakly said. I opened the door, but had to lean against it. "What are you doing here?"
"Paul said you were sick," he said, examining me. "Are you okay?"
"It's just a cold, Charlie," I laughed. Well, I started to laugh but ended up coughing. I covered my mouth with my cardigan, turning my head away from him.
Charlie instantly stepped toward me and gently grabbed my arms. I slowly stopped coughing.
"You wanna change your answer?" He teased. I looked up at him and weakly smiled. I watched his smile fall as he reached up and felt my forehead. "You're burning up, Y/N."
"It's a small fever," I shrugged. I turned to walk away, but got dizzy. Charlie instantly caught me and escorted me back inside. I instinctively tucked into his chest. He responded by tightening his arms around me.
He led me over to the couch and helped me sit down. I weakly smiled as he grabbed a blanket and a few extra pillows. My heart warmed when he reached up and gently cupped my face in his hand.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked. "Cold medicine? A heating pad?"
"No," I smiled weakly. "I'm okay."
"When's the last time you ate?"
My heart dove into my stomach when I couldn't answer him. The longer I took to answer, the more he figured it out for himself.
"How about I order us a pizza?" He offered.
"I'm not hungry," I tried to say, but Charlie cut me off.
"You need to eat, Y/N. You won't get better if you don't eat."
I looked into his eyes to see only one emotion: worry. Without saying anything, I nodded. He let out a sigh of relief before grabbing his phone. I played with the edge of the blanket as he ordered us a pizza.
Right when he was about to hang up, I felt sick. I threw off the blanket and ran to the bathroom.
"Y/N?!" He called out. I slammed the door shut and fell to my knees. "Y/N?" Charlie called out again, this time from the other side of the door.
"Don't come in!" I said quickly before emptying my stomach. Once it was empty, I leaned my head against the toilet seat.
"Y/N?" He said, his voice even softer. "Can I come in now?"
"Do you really wanna see me like this?" I asked weakly.
I heard him let out a small chuckle before slowly opening the door. I didn't look up at him as he walked over and knelt next to me. Charlie reached over and gently rubbed my back.
"What can I do?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know," I whimpered.
"That's okay," he soothed as he continued to rub my back.
I sat there for a few minutes with Charlie rubbing my back before I had enough strength to stand up. The second I started to, Charlie gently grabbed me and helped me to my feet. He stayed in the bathroom as I brushed my teeth. When I turned toward him, I saw him staring at me with soft eyes.
"Thanks for coming over here," I said softly. "And I'm sorry for not replying to your IM this morning."
"Don't worry about it," he said quickly.
"Still," I shrugged. "I should've at least let you know why I wasn't there."
"Y/N," he said gently as he rubbed my arms, "really, it's fine."
"I'm glad you're here," I said, getting lost in his eyes.
"Me too," he smiled. We stared at each other for a few beats before Charlie slid his hands down my arms until he got to my hands. He intertwined our fingers and asked, "You feel strong enough to go back to the living room?"
"I think so," I shrugged. He smiled as he gently wrapped his arm around my waist. Again, I instantly leaned into his side as he led me out of the bathroom. I noticed his small chuckle, but I was too weak to ask him about it.
Charlie led us over to the couch and helped me sit down. I smiled when he draped the blanket over my legs. He sat next to me, and we spent the next ten minutes finding a movie to watch.
The pizza was delivered about twenty minutes later. As much as I tried to, I couldn't eat it. Charlie noticed right away. I glanced at him when he looked at me. My breath got caught in my throat as he slowly moved the pizza away from his mouth.
"Are you okay?" He asked softly.
"Yeah. . ." I stuttered. "I just. . ."
I looked down at my slice of pizza to see that I had only eaten two bites. "Oh," he whispered. "Wow. I am a complete idiot. You're sick. You probably won't be able to keep the pizza down. What about soup? I can make you some soup."
"I'm fine. . ." I started to say, but he cut me off.
"Soup would be better for you," he continued. "You keep watching the movie. I'll warm you up some soup."
"Thanks, Charlie," I said softly as he walked into the kitchen. I lay down as Charlie warmed up some soup. As I waited, I ended up falling asleep. A little while later, I woke up to someone gently cupping some hair behind my ear.
"Hi," he whispered when my eyes fluttered open. "Sorry to wake you, but you should really eat something."
I sat up, instantly getting dizzy. Charlie must have seen because he quickly put my soup on the coffee table and gently grabbed my hands. "Are you okay?" He whispered.
"I'm just dizzy," I said slowly. He reached up and cupped my face.
"I'll get you some water." He started to leave, but I quickly grabbed his hand.
"Please don't go," I whispered. "I don't like feeling like this when I'm alone. . . I'm scared."
Charlie quickly sat next to me, pulling me into his chest. "I'm right here," he whispered. "And I'm not going anywhere."
* * * * *
After a bowl of soup and two random TV movies, I was falling asleep in Charlie's arms. At the end of our movie, he gently woke me up.
"Y/N," he whispered, cupping my face in his hand. I sleepily hummed as I tucked more into his chest. "You should get some sleep."
"I am sleeping," I mumbled, making him laugh.
"In your bed," he continued with a small chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled.
"Come on," he whispered, standing up and helping me to my feet. The second I was standing, he wrapped his arms around me. I instinctively leaned my head on his chest as he led me to my room.
I smiled as he helped me sit down and tucked me in. He hesitated before clearing his throat.
"I'll. . . I'll let you get some sleep."
Before he could walk away, I quickly grabbed his wrists. "Could you. . . It might be. . . I was wondering. . ."
"Y/N?" He asked gently. His eyes were soft as he stared at me.
"Will you stay with me?" I finally whispered.
"Of course," he said softly. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed with me. The second he sat next to me, I tucked into his chest.
"You're adorable when you're sick," Charlie teased me.
"Mmph," I hummed, tucking more into him. "I don't feel adorable."
"You don't look it either," he chuckled, "but the way you nuzzle anything remotely warm is very endearing."
"It's comforting," I said, looking at him. The tension thickened between the two of us. My heart felt like it was in my throat as I added, "It's comforting being in your arms."
"I'm glad," he said, his own voice dropping to match mine. "I want you to be comfortable in my arms."
"Even when I'm coughing and nursing a fever?" I teased to try and lighten this tension.
"Especially when you're coughing and nursing a fever."
Gary and Y/N agreed to meet at the restaurant at 7. She didn't give him a reason, but she was insistent on meeting him there. He didn't want to push her, so he agreed, although he would have rather picked her up.
He got to the restaurant twenty minutes early and eagerly waited. The other night he felt more like himself than he's felt in years. And he knew it was because of her. He knew that he had to do whatever he could to see her again.
He didn't bother telling his handler about Y/N. He didn't need to. Y/N had nothing to do with his job. Yes, she believed he was a college professor, but at least she knew what his real name was.
When his watch said 7, he sat at the edge of his seat. But time ticked by, and Y/N didn't show up. The longer it took for her to arrive, the more Gary worried. He tried texting her a couple of times without much luck.
After about thirty minutes of no contact, Gary tried calling Y/N. When she still didn't answer, he decided to call someone else.
"This is Lopez."
"Hey," Gary said, taking a shaky breath, "this is Johnson."
"What's up, Johnson?" Lopez asked.
"I need you to track a cell phone for me," he rushed out.
There was a moment of silence before Lopez cleared his throat. "Is this for a case, Johnson? You know I can't track people's phones for personal use."
"I know," Gary stuttered. "But she could be in danger."
"She?" Lopez taunted. "Ohhhh," he laughed. "I see. Well, what's her name?"
"Y/N."
He waited for Gary to continue, but scoffed when he didn't. "Let me guess," he sighed, "you didn't get this Y/N's last name."
"No," Gary said through his teeth. "I didn't. I met her at the bar the other night, we hit it off, and I asked her out."
"So you haven't slept with her?"
"Can you find her or not?" Gary asked, his teeth clenched even tighter.
"That's a yes," Lopez chuckled. "Alright, send me her number, and I'll see if I can track her."
"She's a political science major at the college my cover, Ron, works at," Gary added. He clenched his hand into a fist when Lopez laughed again.
"I see now. Give me 24 hours. I'll find your college girl."
The next day, Gary got a text from Lopez.
Lopez
I found her. Her name is Y/N Lawrence. She's a political science major at "Ron's" college. I tried to find out more, but something seems weird.
That made Gary nervous.
He instantly opened his phone and called Lopez.
"Damn," Lopez smirked, "someone's eager."
"What did you mean by 'something weird'? Is she hurt?"
"No," Lopes sighed. "I just meant that there's something weird about her history."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning there isn't anything in her history," he said. "It looks like someone wiped her history clean."
"I don't understand," Gary stuttered.
"Well," Lopez hesitated, "her history looks like one of your fake identities' histories."
"Oh," Gary mumbled. He cleared his throat before adding, "That's. . . Strange."
"Johnson," Lopez said slowly, "there's something else."
"What?"
"Her neighbors called the cops last night. Apparently, her apartment was broken into."
"What are you saying?" Gary asked, his heart officially in his throat.
"Someone took your girl."
* * * * *
Without telling his boss, Gary went straight to the address Lopez gave him. When he got there, there was police tape across the door. Not caring about the rules, he tore it down and walked in.
The second he opened the door, he saw how badly her place was torn up. The lock was kicked in, furniture was knocked over, things were broken, and it was clear that Y/N had put up a fight.
Gary turned on his heel and ran into his station. He went to his desk and found the police report for Y/N's break-in. When he finally found it, something kept him from accessing it. He tried a few times, but it was useless.
Angry - and officially scared - Gary went to Lopez's office.
"Johnson," he sighed when Gary roughly tore the door open. "What can I do for you?"
"I can't access the police file about the break-in."
"Say no more," Johnson said. Gary anxiously watched as Johnson typed some things. Suddenly, his face fell. "That's weird."
"What?"
"Someone outside the precinct is stonewalling us?"
"Who?!" Gary snapped as he walked over to Lopez's desk.
"The FBI."
"Why the hell would the FBI take over Y/N's case?" Gary asked, mainly to himself.
"I don't know," Johnson said slowly as he struggled to figure it out.
Gary started pacing as he thought out loud. "Why would the FBI concern themselves with a breaking and entering and a possible kidnapping? Y/N is a political science major. It's not like she works for the FBI. Right? I mean. . . She doesn't work for the FBI. She's a political science major."
"Unless. . ."
"Unless what?" Gary pushed.
"Did she tell you anything about her family?"
"No," Gary shrugged.
"The only reason I can think of for why the FBI would be involved in a case like this is if Y/N has a family member who's an agent."
"The disappearance of the daughter of an FBI agent would get their attention," Gary mumbled. "So. . . How do I get them to trust me?"
"You can't," he laughed.
"I can make them," Gary said through a clenched jaw. He started to leave, but Lopez stopped him.
"Johnson, wait!"
"What?" Gary snapped in the doorway.
"Do you know what this means?"
Gary walked back over to Lopez's desk and looked at his computer. "Son of a bitch," Gary mumbled.
"What?"
"I know who took her."
* * * * *
The bastard who took Y/N was a target he's been monitoring for the past few months. His name is Bob Keller. He's been moving some illegal goods, and Gary has been working to intercept them.
Gary looked more into the night he first met Y/N. Turns out, a couple of Keller's men were there, too. They must've seen her with him, and this was their way of getting him to back off.
Little did they know that Gary had a lot more information on Keller than they thought. He knew exactly where Keller's base was. He was on his way there now.
He parked down the street, grabbed his gun, and jogged towards the warehouse. He waited outside for an opening and, as soon as he found it, he took it.
When he stormed in, he shot anyone in his way. He cleared the building, but there was still no sign of Y/N. He had one last room to clear. Gary kicked the door open, and there was a man holding Y/N.
Gary tightened his grip on his gun when his eyes landed on the guy pressing a gun to Y/N's head.
"Let her go," he gave one warning. The guy opened his mouth to threaten Gary, but he wasn't willing to listen. Y/N let out a small shriek when Gary pulled the trigger.
Once the guy was down, Gary put his gun in his waistband and ran to Y/N.
"It's okay," he soothed.
"What. . . What are you doing here?" She stuttered. She looked at him, studying him to try to figure him out.
"I'm here to save you," Gary said with a small smile.
"But. . . You're a college professor. . . With a gun?"
"It's a lot to explain," he sighed. He reached up and moved a stray piece of hair out of her face. His eyes fell when he saw the marks up and down her arms.
"Let's get you out of here," he suggested, slightly clearing his throat. He wrapped his arms around her and led her out of the warehouse. As soon as they stepped outside, they were surrounded by the FBI.
"Step away from the girl!"
Y/N gasped when the agents pulled out their guns and pointed them at Gary.
"No!" She yelled. "It's. . . It's okay. He didn't hurt me. Please. Put your guns down."
They didn't. Instead, they moved toward them with their guns still raised. Y/N turned and looked up at Gary.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He took a step toward her when two agents grabbed her and led her away from him. He was instantly stopped by a third agent. She looked over her shoulder at him and sent him a small smile.
He watched, frozen, as she was led into an official FBI SUV. Right before the agents shut the door, he noticed her mouth something.
"Thank you."
* * * * *
Gary ran into the hospital and sprinted toward the front desk.
"Where is Y/N Lawrence's room?" Gary demanded. Before she could tell him, two agents walked over.
"Do not tell him," one agent instructed.
"Excuse me?" Gary scoffed.
"She isn't accepting visitors," the second agent said with no emotion in his voice.
"Look," Gary sighed, "outside the warehouse was a misunderstanding. I know Y/N, alright? Please."
"We said no," the first one snapped.
"I just want to talk to her," Gary said, slowly losing his patience.
"And we told you no," the second agent said.
"I am not going to stand here and. . ." Gary was interrupted.
"Johnson!"
Gary turned around to see his handler walking toward him. "Shit," he mumbled under his breath.
"Yeah," Andrew said, walking over to him. "Shit is right. You are in a shit ton of trouble."
"Look. . ."
"You took down Keller and all of his men, to save a girl you met one time?"
"It's not like it sounds," Gary stuttered.
"Yeah," Andrew scoffed, "it is."
Without saying anything else, Andrew handed Gary an official police file.
"What's this?" He asked, not grabbing the file.
"The reason I found you is because Lopez finally told me what you two have been doing," Andrew explained. "I did some digging of my own on your girl."
"You did?"
Andrew nodded as he cleared his throat. When he spoke up again, his voice sounded weird. "That is everything that I found on her."
"How did you. . ." Gary started to ask, but Andrew interrupted him.
"I didn't get it," he corrected. "You figured it out."
Before Gary could ask follow-up questions, Andrew left. He could push, but he was more concerned about Y/N. Gary sat down and opened the file. When he did, he realized that it wasn't a police file. It was a personnel file.
"Holy shit. . ." He mumbled to himself.
Y/N is the daughter of Mr. Ryan Lawrence, A.K.A. the director of the FBI.
He slowly closed the file and went back through every moment they spent together. She never mentioned that her father basically ran the FBI. Then again, he never mentioned that he worked for the police. Well, her major in political science makes more sense.
He went the long way around the hospital, sneaking past the agents in the front lobby. He jogged up the stairs and found Y/N's room. It wasn't hard to find. It was the only room with two federal agents standing outside.
Gary couldn't get three steps toward the door before being stopped again.
"We need to see your ID."
"Winston. Lewis."
The two men instantly straightened up. Gary looked around them to see Y/N sitting up in her bed. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw her smiling at him.
"It's okay," she continued. "Let him in."
The two agents nodded and instantly stepped aside. Gary swallowed the lump in his throat and walked into her hospital room.
"Hi," he smiled awkwardly. He cleared his throat and walked over to her. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm honestly fine," she shrugged. "The agents outside are just being overprotective in hopes of not upsetting my father."
"Right," Gary elongated. "Your father, the director of the FBI."
"Yeah," she smiled sheepishly. "About that. . . I'm sorry I didn't say anything. But, to be fair, you didn't say anything about being an undercover cop."
"You know about that?" Gary stuttered. He felt like his heart flipped when she chuckled.
"I do," she nodded. "After our night together, I looked you up. It wasn't hard to find out."
"It was hard to find out whose daughter you are," Gary smiled, finally feeling like he felt the night they first met.
"The director of the FBI has the ability to hide his daughter fairly well," she smirked.
His smile fell. He slowly reached over and grabbed her hand. "I am so sorry this happened to you," he whispered. "I was building a case against a smuggler, and one of his goons saw us together the other night. They grabbed you to get to me. I am so sorry."
"Gary," she cut him off. "It's okay. I've spent my father's entire career looking over my shoulder. Getting kidnapped by one of your cases doesn't scare me away."
"It doesn't?"
To answer him, she pulled on his hand, making him sit on the edge of her bed. She grabbed his face and brought his lips down to hers. The second they touched, Gary wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back.
He started to push things further by lying her down on her back. Y/N, however, stopped it. She gently put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.
"Gary," she whispered, "as much as I would love to repeat everything from the night we first met, those agents outside work for my father. Plus, he's on the way."
Y/N laughed when he instantly sat up, pulling her with him. He was about to get off her bed, but she kept him there.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, looking deeply into her eyes.
"I'm fine," she nodded. Her smile softened as she added, "Thanks for rushing in and saving me."
"I'll always rush in and save you," he shrugged.
"That's good to hear."
Y/N laughed when her father's voice made Gary jump to his feet. He turned around and wiped his suddenly clammy hands on his pants.
"Hello, sir," Gary forced himself to smile.
"Hello, Johnson," Director Lawrence said lightly as he shook Gary's hand. "I appreciate you going over the FBI and your superiors to save my daughter. You did what the entire FBI couldn't do in days in less than one. You were clearly motivated."
Gary didn't miss the look Director Lawrence and Y/N shared.
"I was," he said honestly. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her."
Y/N and Gary smiled at each other for a few seconds before Gary remembered that her father, the director of the FBI, was watching them.
He cleared his throat and addressed her father. "I know that when I first met Y/N, I was technically lying to her. And my lie is the reason she was kidnapped. I would never knowingly put her in danger, sir."
"I believe you," Director Lawrence nodded. "But can I ask you one question?"
"Of course, sir," Gary said, straightening up.
"You lied to my daughter."
"I know. . ." Gary stuttered.
"Do you plan to lie to her again?" He asked. Gary straightened up and made sure he looked and sounded serious.
"Never again," he said firmly. "This is where the lying ends. Right here. Right now. No more lies." Gary turned toward Y/N and gently grabbed her hand. "I promise, Y/N," he whispered. "I will never lie to you again."
"I believe you," Y/N said softly with a small laugh. She reached up, gently grabbed his face, and kissed him. Gary broke the kiss and smiled at her. He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at her father.
"I mean it, sir," he said. "I will never lie to her again. And I will never allow anyone to ever hurt her again."
"Good," Director Lawrence nodded. He started to leave, but stopped. "Just remember, if you hurt her, I will send every FBI agent I have to track you down."
"Dad," Y/N sighed. He sent the two a wink before walking out of her room.
Gary slowly turned toward Y/N to see her with a small smile on her face. "I'm sorry about him," she sighed. "He means well, but he's overprotective. I'm his only child and. . ."
He cut her off by grabbing her face and pressing his lips to hers. She smiled into the kiss as she grabbed his waist and pulled him with her as she lay back down. Their lips moved messily in sync before he slowly broke it.
"I meant it," he whispered with his forehead pressed to hers. "No one will ever lay a finger on you as long as I'm around."
He leaned back to see her staring deeply into his eyes. She slid her hands up his chest and wrapped his arms around his neck.
"I hope you plan to be around for a long time, Johnson," she whispered.
Gary walked in and instantly looked around. He was supposed to be looking for his next target, but instead, his eyes found her. He continued to look for his target; however, he was continually distracted by her.
He watched her talk to a few people she must have come with. She didn't drink as much as her friends. She was still sipping her one beer by the time her friends were on drink number three. Even from across the club, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Nothing in the room seemed as intriguing as her.
A little while later, after being told that his target wasn't showing up tonight, Gary was officially off-duty. Knowing that, he decided to approach her.
She was off to the side, talking to someone she had run into tonight. Gary's breath got stuck in his throat when her friend walked away.
This was his chance.
He wiped his hands on his pants before walking over to her. She looked up and watched him walk toward her.
Of course, she was aware that he had been watching her all night. But, to be honest, she didn't mind. He was attractive, and she wanted to see if he'd have the guts to come over to her. So when he did, she decided to have some fun with him.
"Hi," he smirked, struggling to resist the urge to look her up and down. "I'm Gary."
"Are you?" She teased. She didn't resist looking him up and down before turning on her heel and walking over to the bar. Gary bit his bottom lip when she leaned against the bar, sticking out her ass.
"Damn," he moaned. He walked over and grabbed her hand. She allowed him to pull her onto the dance floor.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed her hips side-to-side. Gary put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. They stared into each other's eyes as they swayed to the music.
The music changed to something with a deeper base. With a smirk on her face, she turned around and pressed her back to his chest. His hands stayed on her waist as she reached up and put her hand on the back of his neck.
Gary closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of her body pressed against his. He leaned down and buried his face in her hair. He could feel her smirk as she ran her fingers through his hair, slightly pulling on a few strands.
He started slowly kissing her neck. The messier he kissed her skin, the more she moaned. Soon, she turned back around, grabbed his face, and roughly brought his lips down to hers.
She broke the kiss, smirking up at him.
"Hey," she whispered, "let's get out of here."
* * * * *
When Gary woke up the next morning, his mystery girl was gone. He didn't know her name. He didn't know where she worked. He didn't know anything about her.
And it drove him crazy.
The rest of the weekend, Gary thought about her. He replayed his night with her over and over again in his mind. Her face was permanently glued into his mind.
A few days later, Gary was walking around campus for his cover when he saw her.
She was sitting under a tree on a blanket, reading a book. He watched as she slowly started packing up her things. As discreetly as he could, he followed her through campus.
Eventually, she walked into a classroom. Gary took note of the time and classroom number. He jogged back to his office and instantly looked up her file. The second he opened her file, he saw her student ID picture.
"Y/N," he said to himself. He read through her file, but it seemed a bit empty. "That's weird," he mumbled.
There wasn't much about her personal life. Usually, the university had a record of hometowns and parents/emergency contacts, but there was nothing like that in Y/N's files.
Before he could go further into her file, his phone started ringing.
"Johnson," he answered automatically without checking to make sure there wasn't someone around to hear him.
"I hope you're not on campus," his handler, Andrew, said, not hiding his disapproving tone, "because if you are, you just blew your cover."
"What do you want, Andrew?" Gary deadpanned.
"We have a new case for you," he sighed. "I'll send it to you."
Gary rolled his eyes when Andrew abruptly hung up. Without thinking, he grabbed his backpack and walked out of his office. The second he did, he ran into someone.
Oh shit, he thought when he saw who it was.
"You," the girl from last night stuttered.
"You," he smirked. She looked behind him, and her expression changed when she saw his office.
"You're a professor," she said slowly. Gary realized her shift was because of him.
Damn it.
"Well, yeah," he said slowly.
"Which means I could lose my grant," she mumbled, looking away from him and gripping her backpack strap.
"No!" Gary said a little too quickly, without thinking. "I mean. . . I'm in the psychology and philosophy department. You're not."
"I'm not," she said slowly. She cleared her throat before asking, "How did you know that?"
Oops.
"I meant. . ." Gary stuttered. Damn it. He never loses his cool. Why is he now? "I don't know what major you're in, but I know most of the grant work being done in my department."
Oh, good. That made sense. Hopefully, she believes it.
"I'm a political science major," she told him what he already knew.
"That's great," he smiled. "Maybe we could. . ."
"We shouldn't," she cut him off. "We could already get in trouble for the other night."
"We won't," he tried to brush off.
"You're a professor, Gary," she sighed. "I'm a student. Despite being in different departments, we could still get into a lot of trouble. I could lose my grant, and you could get fired. I'm sorry, but it's not worth it."
Gary felt like his heart sank into his stomach as he watched her walk away.
"It is worth it," he mumbled to himself. "Because I'm not really a professor."
* * * * *
Gary didn't let it go. He couldn't. Y/N has been stuck in his mind since he first saw her. There was something about her that he couldn't walk away from. It could be how it felt to kiss her, spend the night with her, or dance with her.
But there was something else he couldn't put his finger on. There was something else about her that he felt the need to figure out.
While mindlessly and pointlessly walking around campus to make his cover seem legit, his eyes found her again. Before he could talk himself out of it, he followed her as she walked into the library.
Gary tucked back behind a bookshelf and held his breath. He debated what to do. If he started something with her, he'd risk blowing his cover and putting her in danger.
He refused to do the latter.
But then again, now that he knew who she was, he didn't want to lose her. Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly walked around the bookshelf.
"Look," Gary said, not meaning to make her jump.
"Gary," she stuttered.
"I had a lot of fun the other night," he started to ramble. "And I know that we could get into trouble if people found out, but I like you, Y/N. A lot. I want to see if we have something."
Cutting him off, Y/N grabbed his face and brought his lips down to hers. They instantly started moving their lips roughly in sync as they wrapped their arms around each other. They both grunted as he pushed her up against the bookshelf.
Gary broke the kiss and immediately attached his lips to her neck. She moaned when he started grinding his body against hers.
"Gary," she half-stuttered/half-moaned. "We're gonna get caught."
"That's kinda hot," he moaned into her ear.
"It is," she said, bringing his body closer to hers. "But we should stop."
He cut her off by pressing his lips back to hers. Their lips moved in sync for a few beats before he finally broke the kiss.
"You're right," Gary whispered. "We should stop." They were out of breath as they stared into each other's eyes. "We could continue this tomorrow night," he continued. "Maybe after dinner?"
Y/N slid her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.
Unlike the rest of the country, I couldn't bring myself to watch the Running Man. Not even knowing my husband was one of the contestants.
It's been a week since Ben came home and told me he had signed up for the damn game. I begged him not to. I told him that there were other ways to get our daughter the medicine she needed. But, Ben being Ben, was determined to take care of his family. The night before he was sent away to begin all the bullshit they do before the game officially starts, he woke me a few hours after we had fallen asleep.
~ • ~
"Baby," he whispered, gently tucking a piece of hair behind my ear to wake me up.
"What's going on?" I mumbled sleepily as I slowly sat up.
"Baby, we gotta go."
I sat on the bed, frozen as Ben grabbed a suitcase and started throwing things into it.
"But the. . . You signed up for the game. We can't run away," I stuttered. "They'll find us."
"We're not running."
It was then that I realized he was only grabbing my clothes.
"No!" I said, jumping up. I ran over and grabbed my shirts out of his hands. I threw them aside as I started to panic, "I'm not going anywhere without you, baby. I can't go anywhere without you. I need you! Cathy needs you! I can't. . . We can't. . ."
"Y/N," he tried to soothe me. I tucked into his chest and let out a small sob.
"I need you, Ben," I sobbed into his shirt. I felt him sigh as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my head.
"I will survive this," he said firmly, almost like he was promising himself just as much as he was promising me. "I promise, baby. I will survive this. I will come home to you and our baby girl."
I whimpered as I repeated, "I need you."
"I know," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through my hair. "I need you, too. But I need you safe. So please, Y/N, pack a bag."
"No," I stuttered, pulling out of his hold. He gently grabbed my arms, stopping me from walking away from him.
"Baby," he soothed, "I need you to trust me. Pack a bag. I'll go pack one for Cathy."
"Ben," I stopped him. "What are you thinking? Please. . ."
He took a step closer to me, his hands still on my arms. "I need to get you and Cathy somewhere safe," he finally explained. "I can't leave my girls without any form of protection. The best thing I can do is hide you somewhere."
"I don't like this," I stuttered.
"I know, baby," he whispered. "I'm sorry, but I need to put you somewhere safe. I found a safe house for you and Cathy. Only I know the location of it. You'll be in hiding while I survive the month. And when it's over. . ."
"What if you don't survive?" I cut him off.
Ben gently grabbed my face, leaned down, and pressed his lips to mine. I didn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks as I kissed him back. When he broke the kiss, I let out a disappointed whimper.
"I promise," he whispered, "I will survive. I will make it home to my family."
~ • ~
Throughout that whole month, I forced myself to focus on taking care of our daughter. The first week, she cried herself to sleep every night wanting her Daddy. The second week, I cried myself to sleep every night, wanting my husband. The third week, I felt numb. The whole month, I had nightmares.
Every night, I would jump awake after dreaming of different ways my husband wouldn't come home to his daughter and me. After that happened, I would force myself to stay awake the rest of the night.
Once the month was up, I still hadn't heard from Ben. No official had told me if he'd survived or not. Of course, I didn't watch any of the Running Man streams, so I had no idea what state he was in. I could barely handle the idea of Ben being in the Running Man. There was no way in hell that I would be able to watch him fight for his life.
A week after the month was officially up, I had started to force myself to be open to the idea that Ben would never come home. My heart jumped into my throat, and it felt like my whole world had stopped when someone knocked on the door.
"Oh no," I mumbled to myself.
This was it.
This was the notification that he had died. I wiped my hands on my pants as I slowly walked over to the door. It took me a second before I had the courage to open the door. When I did, my heart felt like it was trying to fly toward who was at the door.
"Ben," I gasped. He laughed as I threw my arms around him. He tried not to, but I heard him let out a small gasp of pain. "I'm sorry," I said, tears streaming down my face as I let him go. "You're probably. . . You're hurt. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. . ."
"It's okay," he cut me off.
"No, it's not," I whimpered. I reached up and gently held his face in my hands. My eyes scanned the cuts and bruises on his face, neck, and arms. "You're hurt."
"Baby," he whispered, making me look back up at him. "I'm okay. I don't care about how sore I am. All I care about is seeing my wife and little girl, holding both of you in my arms."
I stood on my toes and gently pressed my lips to his. Ben deepened the kiss by pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around my waist. I gently wrapped my arms around his neck as I kissed him back.
"Let's go," I whispered, breaking the kiss. "Cathy's in her room."
I started to walk away, but he quickly pulled me back into his chest. I looked up at him, my heart feeling like it was about to burst out of my chest.
"I love you, Y/N," Ben whispered.
Those three words made me break. I collapsed in his arms as a sob ripped out of my throat. He caught me and brought me tightly into his chest.
"I love you so much," I sobbed into his chest. "I've missed you more than you could possibly understand."
"Oh, I understand," he chuckled, tightening his arms around me. "I missed you so much, baby."
Without pulling out of our embrace, Ben led me down the hallway. I giggled when he started to walk into our room instead of Cathy's. He smiled when I let go of him, grabbed his hand, and led him across the hallway into Cathy's room.
I remained in the doorway as Ben slowly walked over to Cathy's crib. A small whimper left my lips, and my hand flew to my chest as Ben leaned down and gently picked her up. Tears filled my eyes as he held her tightly to his chest. When he leaned down and kissed her, she let out a small coo.
Hearing her happily giggle when she opened her eyes and saw her Daddy holding her, I couldn't hold back anymore. I walked over to them and wrapped my arms around both of them. Ben chuckled as he used one arm to wrap around my waist and pull me closer.
"Damn," he whispered, leaning his head on mine. "It feels so good to have my girls back in my arms."
"It feels so good to be back in your arms," I said, my voice slightly breaking. Ben pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before doing the same to Cathy.
"I love my girls," he said. I smiled as we stood there for a few beats, enjoying being back in each other's arms.
After a few beats, Ben let me go. I watched as he turned his full focus to Cathy in his arms.
"How is she feeling?" He asked, not looking away from her.
"Better," I shrugged. "We had a couple of rough nights after you. . . But I was able to get some medicine."
"That's good," he said, his voice breaking. He leaned down and kissed her forehead again. "I'm so sorry for leaving you, baby girl," he whispered to her. "But I promise that I will never leave you again."
I closed my eyes, the tears silently streaming down my face. Listening to my husband promise our baby girl that he will never leave her again made the relief I felt when I opened the door hit me all over again.
I opened my eyes when I heard shuffling. He was lying her back down in her crib. When he turned back toward me, his eyes softened.
"Hey, you," he whispered. I let out a soft whimper as I ran to him. He grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his.
We moved our lips messily in sync as we held each other closer. Soon, he had me pushed up against the wall, his hands roaming my body. He leaned down and picked me up, but gasped in pain.
"Baby," I said breathlessly. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine," he said, leaning in to kiss me again.
"Ben," I stopped him by gently pressing my hands to his chest and unwrapping my legs from his waist. "Please, honey. Let me see your injuries. You've been fighting and running for a month. And I doubt they gave you any kind of proper medical attention."
"Good thing I married a nurse," he teased.
"I haven't been a nurse since Cathy was born," I laughed.
I grabbed his hand and led him to our bedroom. Neither one of us said anything as I examined him. I wiped off the dried blood, cleaned some of the open cuts, and worked to clean and stitch a knife wound he had on his stomach.
"There," I said when I was done. "It's not much, but it should at least help you get some sleep. I might have some pain medication. If we don't, I can run out and get some."
I started to leave, but Ben quickly grabbed my hand and stopped me. He pulled me back into his chest, the look in his eyes instantly worrying me.
"Don't leave," he said, the pain and worry coming through in his voice. My breath got caught in my throat when he leaned his forehead against mine. "Please, baby. I need you. Right here. With me."
"Okay," I whispered, reaching up and holding his face. "I'm right here, babe."
I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back, but I broke the kiss.
"You know what might help?"
"What?" He asked, leaning back.
"A shower."
The look in Ben's eyes darkened. I gasped when he picked me up and put me on the counter. Standing between my legs, he pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved messily in sync for a little bit before Ben broke the kiss.
I giggled when he kissed my nose before turning around and turning on the shower. As he turned back around, I slid off the counter. Once he was facing me, I pulled my shirt over my head.
We slowly undressed and stepped into the shower together. The second we walked in, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. My moan got stuck in my throat when he pushed me up against the shower wall. Before we could fully let go, I broke the kiss.
"We shouldn't," I said, already out of breath from our kiss. "You should really be taking it easy."
"I don't want to take it easy," he said, his voice dark as he grabbed my thigh, wrapped it around his waist, and pinned me against the wall even more. "I want to make love to my wife."
"I want to make love to my husband," I said, hating myself for stopping this. "But you should rest, baby. You've been through hell. Non-stop for an entire month. You need at least one night of rest."
"Y/N. . ."
"One night of good rest," I smirked, bringing him a step closer to me, "and I promise you can do whatever you want to me tomorrow night."
"I'm gonna hold you to that," he smirked. He leaned down and pressed a short, soft kiss to my lips. We broke the kiss, but remained wrapped in each other's arms. We stayed that way as the warm water hit us.
"I'm so happy you're home, baby," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"I'm happy to be home, my darling," he said. I could hear the tiredness in his voice. It just made me hold onto him tighter.
"I can't believe you're alive," I said, my voice breaking as I struggled to hold back my sob. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair without breaking our hug. "I thought. . . No one told me if you were. . . I thought I'd lost you."
"You will never lose me, gorgeous," he said. "I did what I had to so we could take care of our daughter."
"Promise me that you won't put yourself in danger again," I whispered. "Please, honey. Don't put me in a situation again where I might lose you. I barely handled it this time. But if I had to go through it again?"
"I promise," he reassured, "I will never leave you or our baby girl ever again. I love my girls. I'd never leave them."
"We love you too," I said, my voice still soft. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. Our lips moved in sync for a little while before we broke it. We were out of breath as we looked into each other's eyes.
Evan and I grew up together. We did everything together: walked to school, ate lunch, walked home from school, and did homework. Everything. Wherever one of us was, the other was there, too.
We were attached at the hip. Evan and I were so close that we ended up falling for each other. But neither one of us told the other. I kept my feelings for Evan as far down as I could get them. Evan did too, until he told me he was joining the Marines like his older brother, Joe.
It seemed that he couldn't leave without getting everything off his chest. In the moment, I wish he had kept it to himself. Looking back, I wasn't sure how to feel. He told me how he felt, and yet, nothing has happened. He shipped off the next day. Nothing could happen.
~ • ~
"I have some news."
The look on Evan's face made me nervous. My nerves got worse when he gently grabbed my hand and led me out of the house. One of our other friends was having a graduation party. The night was supposed to be light and happy, but I've sensed something was on Evan's mind all night.
"Evan," I stuttered, "will you please tell me what's going on? You're making me nervous."
"I'm sorry," he said. He pulled me toward our friend's family's gazebo.
"Come on, E," I said once we had sat down. "You've been weirdly quiet all night. Whenever I look at you, you quickly look away. Please. What's going on?"
"I enlisted."
My heart dove into my stomach. I studied his eyes, hoping I hadn't heard what he had said correctly.
"You. . ."
"In the Marines," he clarified.
"Oh," I whispered, slowly scooting away from him.
"Y/N," he quickly grabbed my hands, stopping me from running away. Of course, he knew I was ready to run away. "Every man in my family has enlisted in the Marines. My dad. My brother. . . I know the risks, but. . ."
"I think that's great," I lied. "It's a family tradition." I pulled my hands out of his, wrapped my arms around myself, and stood up.
"Y/N," he stuttered as he jumped up and walked over to me. "I can explain."
"You don't need to," I cut him off, not facing him. I took a shaky breath before adding, "I don't know why I'm so surprised you decided to follow in your brother's and dad's footsteps."
Evan grabbed my hand and slowly spun me toward him. When I was facing him, he grabbed my other hand.
"Y/N," he whispered, "I promise that I will be safe. I will be smart about things. I will do everything I can to return home. I listen to my superiors. I'll. . ."
I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck. He instantly caught me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I slowly leaned out of his hold, looking up at him. "When. . . When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"What?!" I gasped, stepping out of his arms. "Tomorrow? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because I knew how you'd react," he said calmly. "And I didn't want to spend our last few days together with you angry with me."
"Last few days," I repeated slowly. When tears filled my eyes, Evan quickly pulled me back into his chest. I couldn't help but cuddle into him.
"Please come home to me," I whispered.
"I promise," he nodded, tightening his arms around me.
I felt him look down at me, so I slowly looked up at him. When our eyes met, a thick tension fell between us. Before either one of us could really think things through, we started to lean in.
Once his lips touched mine, we didn't hesitate. We tightened our arms around each other and deepened the kiss. I got lost in it until I remembered what he had just told me and where he was going tomorrow.
"No," I whispered, breaking the kiss by pressing my hands to his chest and pushing him away from me. "We can't. . . I can't. . . Despite how long I've waited for this to happen. . ."
"Wait," he cut me off. "How long you've waited for this to happen? Y/N, are you saying you've wanted something to happen between us?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to calm my racing heart. I hesitated before asking, "Have you?"
Evan grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync for a little while before we slowly broke it.
"So much," he whispered.
"But you're leaving tomorrow," I whispered, trying to walk away. Evan stopped me.
"That doesn't mean we can't. . ."
"You may not come home," I cut him off. "If we started something. . . And you didn't come home. . . I'd be setting myself up for heartbreak."
Evan pulled me closer, his face inches from mine.
"I would never break your heart, Y/N."
~ • ~
Over the years, Evan has gone all over. I've sent him letters, but they all went unanswered. I tried not to worry myself or be offended. To distract myself from him being gone, I threw myself into schooling.
After college and my internship, I had different opportunities, but I ended up deciding to join NCIS as a data analyst. When I started working for NCIS, I kept my head down and did what I was told. Throughout my first year, I slowly became one of the best analysts.
Halfway through my second year, I became the analyst that Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs trusted. It wasn't easy to get Agent Gibbs to trust you, and now that I have, I'm the only analyst he goes to.
Some people have had issues working with Gibbs and his team. He often makes me double-check every little thing. To be honest, I don't mind. I usually check my work several times before sending it in.
I heard that Gibbs and his team were currently working on a case involving a Marine who was found dead. When I found out who the Marine was with, I started following the case a little closer.
The Marine was with Captain Joe Westcott, Evan's older brother. I was walking through the squad room, my mind stuck in memories I have with Evan and Joe, when someone exited the elevator.
"Evan," I gasped. I felt frozen as he looked me over.
"Hey, you," he chuckled.
"You're. . . You're back."
"I am," he smiled. "And you're at NCIS."
"I work here," I stuttered. I cleared my throat before saying, "I'm a data analyst."
"You always did love numbers and patterns," he teased.
"Plus, NCIS works with Marines," I slowly added. "I always wondered if this would give me a chance to. . ."
I couldn't finish my thought. I didn't want to admit that he was the reason I joined NCIS. I looked and saw Agent Anderson awkwardly standing behind Evan.
"Where does he need to go?" I asked the agent.
"He's here to talk to Agent Gibbs about his brother."
"I can take him," I said, not looking toward Evan.
"Thanks, Y/N," Agent Anderson nodded before walking away. I cleared my throat and started walking over to Gibbs' team's desks.
"Hey, Y/N," McGee greeted me.
"Hey, Agent McGee," I smiled.
"Well, hello, Data Analysts Y/N," DiNozzo flirted with me.
"Hi, Agent DiNozzo," I sighed.
"What can we do for a beautiful analyst like you?" He continued. "Maybe, this weekend, you and I can finally. . ."
"Save it, DiNozzo," I cut him off. I cleared my throat, ignoring the glance that Evan sent me. "Where's Gibbs?"
"Right here," Gibbs said as he walked into the squad room. "What's up, Y/N?"
"This is Captain Westcott's brother," I said, not turning toward Evan.
"Sergeant," Gibbs greeted Evan by shaking his hand. "Good to meet you. Your brother know you're here?"
"I hope so, sir, he called me," Evan answered. Every once in a while, he'd send me a look.
"He said you were on a seven-month tour, not back till Christmas."
I tightened my arms around the file I was holding, struggling to act like I wasn't curious about Evan's Marine schedule.
"No, sir," Evan said, the look on his face slightly changing. "I'm on leave till Christmas." He cleared his throat before saying, "He must have got them mixed up. Understandable, considering."
"Your father coming, too?" Gibbs asked.
My eyes were glued to Evan as I waited for him to respond. He hesitated before slightly mumbling, "Uh, no. Soon, though, he just had to take care of a few work things back home. Probably for the best."
"Why's that?"
The tension between the three was obvious. Which is why I was kind of mad at Gibbs for asking an obvious question.
"Where can I find my brother, sir?"
"He's at the Adler Hotel downtown," Gibbs said. "I can take you if you'll wait a minute."
I started to walk, but Gibbs stopped me.
"Y/N, can you pull up everything we know about Captain Westcott's last mission in Afghanistan and a man named Kersey?"
"Yes, sir," I nodded.
"Oh," he added, "and see if you can figure out what the hell 'IJI' means."
"Yes, sir," I said. I started to walk away.
"Y/N," he stopped me. I turned around to see him with a small smile. "Don't call me sir."
"Sorry. . . Boss."
Gibbs laughed as he playfully patted my shoulder. As I walked away, I sent a small glance toward Evan. He watched me the entire time I walked away.
* * * * *
I gathered the information that Gibbs wanted and dropped it off on his desk. Other than running into Evan that first time, I haven't seen him around. I found what I could - which wasn't much - on Captain Westcott's last mission and let Gibbs know what I knew.
We were interrupted when Gibbs' phone started ringing.
"Gibbs," he answered like he always does. "Sergeant Wescott, what's wrong?"
My heart jumped into my throat. I held my breath as I listened to one side of this conversation.
"He's at the Alder Hotel still?" Gibbs asked. He waited for Evan to answer. "Alright, I'm on my way. Stay outside his room."
"Is. . . Is everything okay?" I couldn't help but ask when he hung up.
"Apparently, Sergeant Westcott is trying to talk to his brother, but Captain Westcott won't let him in."
My heart was in my throat as Gibbs left. I tried to calm down, but it didn't work.
"You okay?" Ziva asked, snapping me out of my trance.
"Yeah," I stuttered. I quickly started gathering my files before they could ask me more questions.
I didn't get away fast enough.
"Y/N, do you know Captain Westcott?" McGee asked.
"Or Sergeant Westcott?" DiNozzo asked.
I guess I didn't have a very good poker face.
"Sergeant Westcott is the one that you know," DiNozzo smirked. "My, my, how interesting! So tell me, how complicated was this relationship? Friends? Neighbors? Friends with benefits? Neighbors with benefits?"
"DiNozzo," McGee cut him off. When I looked at him, his eyes were soft. "Enough."
"I'm gonna. . . I gotta keep trying to figure out what Captain Westcot means by I-J-I."
I quickly turned on my heel and went to my office. I pushed aside the memories of Evan and me and focused on helping Joe.
In the Marines, Joe always took care of his men. He was like that growing up. He always protected Evan and me. I remember one time I was being harassed by a boy in middle school. I didn't tell Evan, but Joe found out when he drove by, and I was taking the long way home. When he finally got me to tell him about the kid, he showed up at our school the next day and threatened the kid.
I gasped when someone roughly opened my office door.
"Joe?" I stuttered. I stood up and walked over to him. "Are you. . . Are you okay?"
"Y/N?"
When he looked at me, it felt like he was looking straight through me.
"Why am I at your house?"
"You're not at my house," I said slowly. I reached forward and gently put my hand on his arm. "Joe, you're at NCIS."
"Of course," he laughed off. "I knew that."
My heart sank when I saw the look on his face. I grabbed his hand and led him back toward Gibbs' desk.
"There you are, Joe," Evan said, letting out a sigh of relief. His eyes lingered on me. "You okay, man?"
"I'm fine," Joe scoffed, pulling his hand out of mine. I instantly wrapped my arms around myself. Evan took a step closer to me when he saw Joe's weird shift.
I started to walk away, but Evan caught me. "Y/N, wait," he said, grabbing my arm. He slid his hand down my arm until our hands intertwined. Without a word, he led me off to the side.
"What happened?" He asked.
"He threw the door to my office open," I sighed, slowly explaining. "When I looked at him. . . Evan, he didn't know where he was. He walked in, saw me, and thought we were at my house. I'm worried about him, E. He doesn't seem like himself."
Evan sighed as he shoved his hands into his back pockets. My heart broke when I saw how worried he was about his brother.
"I know," he sighed. "I didn't want to admit it at first, but. . . He's different, Y/N. Agent Gibbs noticed, and he called Lieutenant Commander Peter Sanger."
"That's good," I said quickly. "He's a really good guy. He's from Portsmouth Naval Hospital. He's helped a lot of Marines who were struggling with PTSD. He'll help Joe."
"I hope so," he stuttered. Before I could stop myself, I reached over and put my hand on his arm.
"Hey," I whispered. "He's going to be okay. He's getting help."
I gasped when Evan threw his arms around me. The familiar feeling of being in his arms hit me like a truck. When it did, I slowly wrapped my arms around him and cuddled into him.
"I'm really glad you're here," he whispered. My breath got stuck in my throat when he sniffed my hair. "Seeing you. . . Seeing you has made all of this so much easier."
* * * * *
Other than the first time we ran into each other and our interaction after Joe got confused, I haven't had the chance to talk to Evan. A few days later, I was in my office working on another case when Gibbs walked in.
"You might want to check on your friend."
"Pardon?" I stuttered, looking up to see Gibbs standing in the doorway.
"Sergeant Evan Westcott," Gibbs explained.
"Is. . . Is he okay?" I asked as I slowly stood up.
"When we took Captain Westcott to talk to an old team member, he had a flashback," he continued. "He snapped."
"Is he. . ."
"He's fine," Gibbs reassured me. "We tried to put him through a simulation of what happened to trigger memory, but it was too much. After that, your Sergeant Westcott took his brother to a bar."
"I thought Captain Westcott was on medication," I stuttered.
"He was," Gibbs nodded.
"Oh no," I mumbled.
Without saying anything else to him, I grabbed my things and left NCIS. I anxiously drummed my fingers on my steering wheel as I drove to the Alder Hotel. As soon as I got there, I parked my car and ran inside.
I struggled to catch my breath when I got to the door. Once I had somewhat calmed down, I knocked. When the door opened, the state Evan was in broke my heart.
"Evan," I whimpered when I saw his bruises. "What. . . How. . . Why did. . . Oh, Evan. . ."
When my voice broke, Evan grabbed me and pulled me into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, causing me to let out a shaky breath.
"I'm okay," he tried to comfort me. "It was just a stupid drunk brother fight. I shouldn't have taken him drinking. I was just trying to. . . I just wanted my brother back."
I let out a small whimper as I threw my arms around his neck. "I know," I whispered. "I'm sorry, E." I leaned back and continued, "But PTSD isn't something you easily get over. It's going to take time. He needs time to heal. And he needs you to be there and help him. He needs. . ."
Evan cut me off by leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. A small moan escaped my lips as I kissed him back. The second I started moving my lips against his, he deepened the kiss.
Things sped up as he pushed me up against the wall, opposite their hotel room. Our lips moved messily in sync as our bodies pressed together. He moaned when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, instantly battling for dominance.
"Finally!"
We broke the kiss and turned to see Joe smirking at us from the doorway.
"What?" Evan laughed, not moving away from me.
"I've been waiting for the two of you to hook up for years," he smirked. "It's about time."
He sent his brother a wink before walking back inside. There was a thick silence between us as Evan slowly turned back toward me.
"He is right about that," he whispered. "It's about time we got together."
When I pulled up to the oh-so familiar house, I should've been filled with nostalgia. Instead, I felt numb. I've been feeling numb for the last few months. It's the whole reason I came home. Working on different projects and traveling between filming locations helped mute the numbness.
But it was the same thing every time. The second I stopped working, the numbness came back. This was the reason for my surprise visit home.
The second I opened the front door, Brisket ran inside. I slightly smiled when I heard my mom gasp.
"Brisket? What are you doing here, baby?"
I walked into the family room, instantly plastering my Hollywood Smile on my face.
"Glen!" My mom squealed. I laughed as she walked over to me and threw her arms around me. "It's so good to see you, honey!"
"Good to see you too, Mom," I tried to say in a way that made it sound light.
She broke the hug with a smile on her face. "I didn't know you were coming home for the weekend."
"I'm not," I shrugged.
"How long are you staying?" My dad asked as he walked over and hugged me.
"I'm not sure," I said honestly. "A couple of weeks, maybe?"
"Everything is fine," I tried to laugh off. "I just wanted to come home for a little while before figuring out my next role."
"Well, we are glad to have you," Dad said, patting my shoulder before walking back into the den.
Mom warmed me up some leftover dinner, and we watched a movie. That night, I went to bed in my old bedroom. Well, I didn't technically go to bed. I tossed and turned for a few hours before finally giving up.
I kicked off the covers and went downstairs. As quietly as I could, I made something to eat. A little while later, someone joined me.
"Alright."
I looked up to see Mom walking into the kitchen.
"Are you going to tell me why you really came home? Or am I going to have to continue pretending like that I believe you when you say you're fine?" She asked.
"How did you know?" I asked, slightly clearing my throat.
"I'm your mother," she chuckled as she walked over and sat in the barstool next to mine. "Talk to me."
"Honestly?" I sighed. "I don't really know. The last couple of months, I've been feeling. . . Weird."
"Weird how?" She asked.
"I don't know," I angrily sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. "Weird, anxious. Weird, depressed. Weird. . . Weird."
"Weird, depressed," Mom stuttered. "You've been depressed?"
"Kinda?" I shrugged.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
I looked over at her and felt nothing but guilt. "I don't really have a reason to be depressed. I didn't want to worry you guys without having a solution."
"Honey," she sighed, "depression isn't something you can always put your finger on the cause. But keeping it bottled up is not the answer, no matter what is causing it. I'm glad you came home. Falling back into your usual routine with us might actually be good for you."
"You think?" I asked, really hoping she was right.
"Your father and I have tickets to the rodeo this weekend," she smiled. "We can get a third ticket. You should come with us."
"I guess," I shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."
* * * * *
Walking through the rodeo grounds three days later, I didn't feel any different. I followed my parents as they went from booth to booth. When we were in line to get some food, my eyes landed on someone I hadn't seen since our high school graduation.
"Y/N," I whispered, not meaning to say her name out loud.
"Oh yeah," Dad chuckled. "I forgot she moved back to town."
"Back?" I stuttered.
"Yep," Mom agreed. "She went off to school in New York and got a job at a law firm there. About six months ago, she quit her job and moved back."
"Why did she move back?" I asked, my eyes returning to her, as she was talking to Mrs. Wilson at her baked goods booth.
"Remember?" Mom asked. "I told you about her dad. He had a brain tumor a few months ago. She moved back home to help her mom take care of him. Her dad still can't work, so she helps as much as she can."
"I remember you telling me that," I said, still lost in my memories. "I just don't remember you telling me that Y/N moved back." I cleared my throat and tried to ask without sounding as awestruck as I felt right now, "What is she doing now?"
"From what her mother tells me, she's opened up her own firm and is working to build it up."
"What kind of law?" I asked my Mom.
"Family, corporate," she shrugged. "A little bit of everything."
"All that girl has ever wanted to do is help people," my dad smiled. "And that's exactly what she's doing."
And just like that, I was thrown into my memories of growing up with Y/N.
Y/N and I grew up in the same neighborhood. Our parents were good friends, so we spent a lot of time together. We had classes on and off together our entire childhood. Chemistry, our sophomore year of high school, we were lab partners. She was the reason I passed that class. She helped me with our assignments, took the lead during experiments, and even tutored me on the weekends, so I didn't fail the tests.
All that time, we talked and got closer. By that I mean that I developed a crush on her. I never did anything about it, though. And that was my biggest regret all through high school.
I didn't realize I hadn't said anything in a few minutes until I heard my dad chuckle, "Why don't you invite her to sit with us?"
"What?" I gasped, finally looking away from Y/N. "Why. . . Why would I do that?"
"Because you haven't seen her since high school," Dad shrugged. He sent a look to my mom before adding, "Plus, what better way to get back to your roots than talking to your old high school crush?"
"She wasn't. . ." I started to lie. I cleared my throat when I realized there was no point in pretending I wasn't absolutely crazy about Y/N in high school. "What if she's here with someone? What if she's here with her parents?"
"Invite them along," Dad shrugged.
"Go," Mom chuckled as she pushed me out of line.
I cleared my throat, straightened my shirt, and gathered as much courage as I could as I walked over to Y/N. The closer I got to her, the more pathetic I felt. I've flown a Navy jet, spent a whole movie running around, and fought in hand-to-hand combat against guys twice my size.
How can this girl scare me more than all of that combined?
I gasped when Y/N suddenly turned around and bumped into me. "Glen?" She asked, her voice instantly sounding familiar.
"Y/N," I smiled, anxiously shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. "How are you?"
"I'm good," she said with a small shrug. To those who didn't truly know Y/N the way that I knew her, she looked happy. Deep in her eyes, I could tell she was struggling.
"How's your dad?" I gently asked. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw the look in her eyes sink.
"He's. . . He has his good days and bad days," she slowly confessed. Without thinking, I reached over and grabbed her hand.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," I whispered. "I wish I had been here. I could've helped. I could've been here as emotional support."
My last comment made her giggle. "You were busy wrangling tornadoes and running for your life for a whole month."
"Still," I shrugged with a small smile. I looked down, my breath getting stuck in my throat when I realized I was still holding her hand. I let go and shoved my hands back in my pockets. "So. . . Are you here with anyone?"
"Actually, no," she chuckled awkwardly. "My mom usually comes to support the farmer's market. She felt guilty that she needed to stay home with my dad, so I offered to come and pick up her usuals."
I laughed when she held up the tote bag of things. "That was sweet of you," I praised. I didn't mean to, but my comment made her blush. I took a shaky breath before offering, "You know. . . I don't know if you were going to stay for the rodeo, but. . . If you'd like, you could sit with my parents and me."
Y/N looked behind me and smiled when she saw my parents behind us, not-so-subtly watching us. I felt weird when she turned her smile toward me.
"I'd love that."
I cleared my throat and stepped aside, gesturing toward my parents. "After you," I nodded.
She chuckled as she walked by me. As we walked back toward my parents, I resisted the urge to grab her hand.
"Y/N," my mom gushed when we walked over. My heart felt weird again when Y/N and my mom hugged.
"Hey, kiddo," my dad greeted her. I anxiously wiped my hands on my pants, struggling to ignore how it felt to watch her interact with my parents.
"You hungry?" My mom asked. "We are just about to get something to eat before the rodeo starts."
"I could eat," Y/N shrugged as she sent me a small smile. I instantly mirrored it.
After ordering some corndogs and fries, we found four seats together. The entire time we ate, we kept up small talk. I asked her about her new law firm, and she asked me about my last few movies. When the rodeo started, Y/N turned her attention to it.
I, on the other hand, split my focus between the rodeo and Y/N sitting next to me. Every once in a while, when she got excited or happy, she'd jump up and excitedly grab my arm.
Every time she did, I'd find myself scooting closer to her. By the end of the rodeo, we were sitting so close that our legs were touching.
* * * * *
After the rodeo, I didn't want to end the night with Y/N. So I did something about it.
"Hey," I said, leaning over and slightly dropping my voice. "You wanna walk around for a little while?"
"I'd like that," she smiled, making my heart do a flip.
I stood up and instinctively grabbed her hand when she stood up. She didn't pull her hand out of my grasp as I led her through the crowd. Our hands remained intertwined as we walked slowly through the crowd.
"Can I ask you something?" Y/N broke our silence.
"Of course," I said a little too quickly. "You can ask me anything."
With my hand still in hers, she led me over to the fence around an empty roping box. I copied her as she leaned her elbows against the box.
"I like to think I know you pretty well, Powell," she teased.
"You do," I agree. "Better than most people, to be honest." I looked at her before asking, "What's your question?"
She turned toward me and hesitated. When she finally spoke up, she asked, "Are you alright?"
"Of course," I answered a little too quickly.
"Are you sure?" She asked, taking a small step toward me. "I noticed it the second I saw you."
"Noticed what?" I asked, my voice soft.
"Something bothering you," she whispered. "Whatever it is. . . It's weighing on you, Glen. I can see it. In your eyes."
I looked away, a small part of me hating that she saw this weak side to me. I didn't want her to see me like this. I wanted her to think that I was strong. . . That I could take care of her.
"Glen," she whispered as she gently put her hand on my bicep. When I looked at her, her expression made me melt. "Please, talk to me."
"I can't really put it into words," I slowly pieced together. My comment made her expression fall even more. She grabbed my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers before pulling me to an empty bench.
"Try," she said once we were seated. "Please, Glen. Try so I can. . . I want to help you."
"Only for you," I chuckled, making her smile weakly at me. I cleared my throat, struggling more than before to put my thoughts into words. "I've been kind of depressed the past few months. Which is stupid because I have no reason to be. My career is great. I mean. . . My career is exactly where I have wanted it to be for years. And yet. . . I feel. . . It's stupid."
"No, it's not," Y/N said firmly. I looked up to see her studying me. "It's not stupid, Glen. Everyone has moments where they know they should be happy, and yet they're not. Lots of people struggle with depression. It's not stupid that you. . ."
"Everyone?" I had to ask. Her eyes slightly widened as I asked, "Does that mean. . . You?"
"Yes," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "When my dad. . ."
When she looked away, I quickly grabbed her other hand. She waited a second before continuing, "When my dad was diagnosed with the brain tumor, I felt like my whole world fell apart. I dropped everything and ran back home. I put everything I had into taking care of my mom and dad. When he was recovering, and my mom started going back to her normal schedule. . . That's when it hit me."
I subconsciously scooted closer to her when she looked down at our hands. "I wish I had been here," I whispered. "I wish I had been here to help you."
"You're here now," she said, looking up at me. "And so am I. Maybe I can help you."
I looked into her eyes, instantly getting lost. The tension was thick between us, but neither one of us did anything to lighten it. I stood up, pulling Y/N with me.
"Sometimes," I hesitated to admit.
"Sometimes?" Y/N gently pushed.
"Sometimes I wish I could go back to being Glen Powell BH."
"BH?"
"Before Hollywood," I sighed. "I know that Hollywood has changed me, but I can't help but wonder. . . What if I've changed too much?"
I waited for her to say something, but she paused. Slowly, she smiled at me.
"I don't think the old Glen Powell is gone," she shrugged.
"You don't?" I stuttered.
"I don't," she nodded. "I think he's been out on the back burner while Hollywood Glen has taken over. But he's definitely not gone."
"You have a lot of faith in me, Y/N," I chuckled.
"Of course," she smiled. "I know who you are, Glen. I know what kind of guy you are. And nothing, no career or movie role, is going to change who you truly are. You're still the boy I grew up with. You're still the boy who would jump to help me. You're still the boy who. . ."
I cut her off by grabbing her face and pressing my lips to hers. She reached up and grabbed my arms as she slowly kissed me back. The second our lips touched, I felt like my old self again.
That's when I realized it: Y/N got me out of the pit I threw myself into weeks ago.
I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against hers.
"You're the boy I fell in love with," she whispered, finishing what she was saying before I cut her off. I leaned back so I could look into her eyes.
"Still?" I found myself asking. She bit her bottom lip as she nodded. I reached up and used my thumb to gently pull her lip out from her teeth. "That's good," I whispered, "because you're the girl I fell in love with and am still in love with."
I laughed when Y/N threw her arms around my neck. I picked her up and spun her around, both of us laughing the whole time. When I put her back on her feet, I didn't unwrap my arms from around her. The tighter I held her, the more I felt my depression fading away.
"Thank you," I whispered. I closed my eyes and focused on how it felt to hold her.
"For what?" She asked with a small giggle. I leaned back and reached up, gently cupping her face in my hand.
I walked into the precinct after my case, my whole body still aching as I sat down. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe through the pain. When I opened my eyes and started filling out my report, every movement I made felt like the bust was happening all over again.
"Detective Y/L/N?"
I turned around to see our captain's assistant, Maggie, walking over to my desk with her notebook wrapped tightly in her arms.
"What's up, Maggie?"
"Captain needs to talk to you," she said.
"Oh boy," I chuckled. I hid my pain as I stood up.
"It's nothing bad," Maggie said quickly. "Captain Wilson wants to send you on an undercover case."
"Great," I mumbled under my breath as I walked past her.
Most detectives would love a chance to go undercover. I, however, hate the idea. Our undercover team was always overly. . . eager to get a case. They often ran in too early, almost completely missing their chance to catch the guy. Or they rush things and mess up evidence.
The worst of our undercover agents was Gary Johnson. He enjoyed creating a new identity a little too much. Sure, he always got his man, but it was never tactful. He often left a lot of damage behind him and ruined lives.
Just my luck, he was sitting in Captain Wilson's office when I walked in. The minute I saw him, I knew I wasn't going to like whatever reason I was called to the Captain's office.
"Y/N," Captain Wilson smiled. "Have a seat."
I sent Johnson a glance before sitting down. "What's going on?" I asked, studying my Captain's every movement as he walked over and sat at his desk.
"We would like you to go undercover," he said, straight to the point.
"We?" I asked, not looking at Johnson.
"The target I'm after lives in a suburban neighborhood," Johnson started to explain. "A single guy would raise some eyebrows."
"A single guy would raise some flags," I connected the dots, "but newlyweds would blend in."
"Exactly," Johnson smiled.
"We want you to go undercover with Johnson as his wife," Captain nodded.
"You can't be serious," I sighed, still only addressing my captain.
"Look," he sighed, leaning on his desk, "I know that undercover work is not your favorite. I know that you don't like putting your safety into the hands of people clear across town. I promise that we will have your back. We'll have daily check-ins. We'll keep you updated constantly on any evidence or changes."
"How long?" I slightly cut him off. Captain Wilson turned toward Johnson, signaling him to answer.
"I can get what we need in a week, two at most."
"Set it up," I shrugged before standing up. The men quickly stood up with me. I nodded as I turned on my heel and walked out of the office. I didn't get very far.
"Y/L/N!"
I turned around and sighed when Johnson ran to catch up to me. "What?" I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I appreciate you agreeing to help with this," he smiled. I shifted my feet, not bothering to get rid of my Resting Bitch Face.
"I didn't really have a choice, did I?" I asked.
"Well. . . No," he stuttered. "But still."
"I'm a detective," I said firmly. "I close cases and gather evidence, talk to witnesses. I don't play pretend to trick people into confessing. I'm a detective, Johnson."
"I know. . ."
"I don't like going undercover."
"That's okay," he tried to quickly soothe. He continued with a small laugh. "I go undercover all the time. I've got your back."
"I don't trust you," I cut him off. My statement made his face drop.
"Y/N. . ." He stuttered, his voice soft.
"I don't trust how you do things, Johnson," I continued. "You're rash, short-minded, overly-eager, and sloppy. You never think about the aftermath of one of your. . . cases."
I watched him visibly swallow the frog in his throat. My breath got caught in my throat when he took a small step closer to me.
"I will have your back," he whispered. "I promise. I'll do whatever is needed to keep you safe."
"Even if it means abandoning your precious case?" I asked, not expecting him to be honest.
"Even if it means turning my back on my target and getting you out."
* * * * *
On our way to the neighborhood, Johnson and I didn't talk. He kept glancing at me, but I didn't look his way.
"We're almost there," he finally spoke up. I simply nodded. I held back my smirk when he let out a frustrated sigh. "Y/N, we're supposed to be newlyweds."
"I know," I shrugged.
"Which means we need to pretend to be madly in love with each other," he said, sending me a glance. "Like newlyweds."
"I read the case file, Johnson."
Johnson waited a minute before finally stuttering, "It's just. . ."
"I can play the part," I cut him off. "Just because I don't enjoy going undercover doesn't mean I can't do it."
"Sorry," he stuttered again.
"Look," I sighed, "you're not a bad guy, Johnson. And, to be fair, you're a half-decent detective."
"Gee, thanks," he mumbled.
"But," I elongated, "I wasn't kidding back at the station when I said you're overly-eager. Nine out of ten of your mistakes are because you went too soon. You gotta learn to take a breath before you react, Johnson."
He looked at me, and I finally returned it. When I did, he was smirking at me. "You know," he teased, "you don't have to call me 'Johnson'. You can call me Gary."
"Technically, your undercover name is Ron," I said, looking away from him. I smirked before adding, "And apparently, you really liked that name."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shift in his seat. "I think I prefer just going by our real names. It's less confusing."
"Is that safe?" I asked. Johnson looked at me, his eyes soft.
"We're miles from the precinct," he tried to soothe.
"That doesn't make me feel better," I mumbled, looking away from him. He reached over and grabbed my hand.
"I just meant," he said softly, "that no one is going to recognize us out here. It's perfectly safe for us to use our real names." He paused before adding, "Plus, us calling each other our real names takes off the pressure and awkwardness of going undercover."
"If you say so," I shrugged. He sent me a look before looking back at the road. We drove the rest of the way to the house in silence.
"Here we are," he said as we pulled into the small, two-story house.
"It's cute," I said without thinking. I cleared my throat before taking off my seatbelt. "Time to put on a show."
We shared a knowing look. I thought he was going to get out of the car, but he didn't. Instead, he gently grabbed my chin and leaned across the armrest. My breath got stuck in my throat when he softly kissed my cheek.
"I've got your back," he whispered before pulling away. When he leaned back, there was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite figure out. It got a little clearer when he added, "And I'm sorry that we're going to have to be a little intimate and coupley for a case. If you ever get uncomfortable, please tell me."
"I will," I whispered. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering for a few seconds before finally letting go.
"Let's put on a show, wifey."
"Right behind you, hubbey."
We let out a small chuckle before starting to get out. I opened my car door, but Johnson reached across me and shut it.
"What are you doing?" I laughed.
"Chilvery, my dear," he smirked. He sent me a wink before getting out of the car. I took a shaky breath as he walked around to my side.
"This is going to be. . . horribly awkward," I mumbled to myself.
When Johnson finally opened my door, I put on a fake smile. He grabbed my hand and helped me out. I gasped when he instantly pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me.
"We already have eyes on us," he whispered into my ear. "Ready to be Mrs. Johnson?"
"Game's on," I whispered back. He slowly pulled out of our embrace.
"What do you think, baby?" He asked, gesturing toward the house with his head.
I looked at the house, making my smile bigger. "It. Is. Amazing!"
Gary laughed when I squealed excitedly and started jumping up and down. To sell it, I threw my arms around him. He picked me up and spun me around.
When he put me back on my feet, I saw the hesitation in his eyes. To help him feel better, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Without being too obvious to onlookers, I subtly nodded my head.
He slowly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I couldn't help but hold my breath as he slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. To reassure him that this was the right move, I started kissing him back.
My heart felt like it was jumping out of my throat when we slowly broke the kiss.
"Welcome home, baby," he whispered.
Suddenly, he smirked at me. I gasped when he leaned down and picked me up bridal-style.
"What are you doing?!" I giggled.
"I'm carrying my new wife across the threshold of our first home," he said, slightly raising his voice so our neighbors/targets overheard us.
He carried me inside the house and didn't put me down until we got to the master's bedroom. I gasped when he put me on the bed.
"Johnson. . ." I nervously stuttered. I sat up when he went to the window and closed the blinds.
"It's okay," he soothed when he turned back toward me. "We're not going to do anything. I promise. But we need our neighbors to think we're a newlywed couple and a normal newlywed couple would be. . ."
"Consummating the marriage in their first home," I finished for him, subconsciously fixing my shirt. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.
"Hey," he said, dropping his voice and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Nothing is going to happen, Y/N. We're just going to put on a little show for the neighbors to sell our cover. We will never go too far. I promise."
"What time do our fake movers get here?" I asked, slightly clearing my throat.
"They should be about half an hour behind us," he said, studying me.
"When you let them in," I said, clearing my throat again, "you should have messy hair."
"That's a good idea," he said. His eyes were glued to me as I got out of bed.
I didn't look at him as I added, "You should also be pulling your shirt on as you open the door. Really put on a show for our neighbors."
"Another good idea," he mumbled as I walked into the bathroom. Before I closed the door, I heard him add, "You're a lot better at undercover work than you give yourself credit for."
* * * * *
By dinner time that night, our neighbors decided to stop by. We didn't choose this house by accident. Our targets are the couple next door, Daniel and Taytum Lewis.
"Incoming," Gary said, nodding his head toward our side window facing the Lewis house.
"What. . . What do we do?" I started to panic. He instantly walked over to me and gently rubbed my arms.
"It's okay," he soothed. "Just breathe, alright? We're a newlywed couple who just moved into this house. We're madly in love, happy to meet our neighbors."
"What if they figure it out?"
"They won't," he reassured. I couldn't let go of the fear, so he gently reached up and cupped my face in his hand. "It'll be fine, Y/N. I promise. Go to the kitchen and finish dinner. They'll probably want to meet you, but dinner will be your excuse to come in and out of the room."
"Are you. . ."
I was cut off by the doorbell.
"Go in the kitchen," he said again. "I'll have to call out to you to introduce you, but then you can go back to the kitchen to deal with dinner."
"Okay," I whispered. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. "I have faced drug dealers, rapists, and murderers. Why the hell does going undercover scare me so damn much?"
Before he could say something comforting, I turned on my heel and walked into the kitchen. I stayed close to the doorway so I could listen to Gary greet our neighbors/suspects.
"Hello," he said lightly.
"Hi there," Taytum Lewis slightly giggled.
Geez, I thought. She sounds like a 50's housewife.
"We're Daniel and Taytum Lewis," Daniel introduced them. "We're your neighbors."
"How nice to meet you," Gary said. I could practically see the innocent smile on his face as he shook the husband's hand. "I'm Gary Johnson. My wife. . . Y/N?"
I forced myself to calm down when he called out to me. I fixed my apron and grabbed a towel to occupy my hands. I pretended to wipe my hands as I walked out of the kitchen.
"Oh, hello," I smiled. "Babe, you made new friends."
"That I did, baby," Gary smiled. The second I walked over to him, he wrapped his arm around my waist. "These are our neighbors, Daniel and Taytum. This is my wife, Y/N."
"Pleasure to meet you," Daniel smiled.
"Pleasure to meet you, too," I nodded.
"We saw the moving trucks this morning, and just knew we had to come over and introduce ourselves to the new young couple," Taytum said, her voice just as cheery as it was from the other room. I couldn't help but look at her dress, kitten heels, and perfect apron.
Geez, I thought. She even looks like a 50's housewife.
"That's very sweet of you," I forced myself to smile.
"How long have you two been married?" Daniel asked. I couldn't help but feel like he was studying us.
"Two weeks," Gary explained. "We just got back from our honeymoon."
"That's wonderful!" Taytum giggled. Again. She turned toward me and asked, "Where did he take you?"
"A ten-day cruise around the Mediterranean," I smiled. "I've always wanted to see a few of those countries, and I love cruises. It was the perfect trip. Kinda sad to be back to reality."
"Every day feels like a honeymoon when I get to wake up next to the woman of my dreams," Gary said, leaning in and pressing his nose to my cheek, his breath tickling me.
"Such a cheeseball," I giggled. Just then, the oven timer went off. "Excuse me. That would be our dinner."
"Oh! What'd you make?" Taytum asked.
"My wife makes the best homemade lasagna," Gary praised.
"So that's the amazing smell," Daniel complimented. I smiled before escaping to the kitchen.
I let out a breath when I was no longer in their view. I pulled out our lasagna and set it on the counter. While that cooled, I threw the garlic bread into the oven to warm up.
As I put together a salad, I listened as Gary and Daniel talked about their jobs. Gary's cover was one of his old covers as a college professor. Daniel was an accountant. At least, he pretended to be.
The whole reason we were here is that they believed that Daniel was actually a hitman. He earned his money by taking payments to kill targets in ways that made them seem like accidents. I wasn't entirely sure how Johnson got the evidence he needed to point the finger at Daniel Lewis, but he did.
When I walked into the dining room and started setting the table, they were still talking.
"You need any help with dinner?" Taytum offered as she skipped over.
"Oh no," I said lightly. "Thanks, though. Just waiting on the garlic bread."
"I have an amazing homemade garlic spread recipe," she boasted. "I should send it over to you."
"I would love that," I smiled. "I can trade you for my homemade banana bread recipe. My grandma always added nuts, but I'm not personally a fan of nuts. I have, however, tried chocolate chips in the bread, and it is to die for."
"You two ladies done clucking?" Daniel asked, walking over. I felt a slight chill go up my body due to the way he was staring at me.
"Just trading recipes," I said lightly. My eyes glanced over at Gary standing behind Daniel. He instantly caught on and walked over to me, gently putting his hand on my arm.
"Smells like the garlic bread is ready, baby," he said, trying to sound like a helpful husband. Both he and I knew there was another reason for him jumping in.
"You're right," I nodded. "I should go check on it."
He quickly kissed my cheek before letting go of my arm. As I passed by the mirror on the wall, I noticed Gary was watching me tuck into the kitchen. To someone who didn't know we were undercover, it looked like a husband checking out his wife as she walked out of the room.
I got the bread out of the oven as I heard Gary start to say goodbye to our neighbors. The tension evaporated from our house the second Gary led Daniel and Taytum out of the house, closing the door behind them.
When he walked into the kitchen, I was cutting the bread. "They're gone," he tried to say lightly. I nodded but didn't turn toward him. I took a shaky breath when he walked up behind me and gently grabbed my arms. "Talk to me, Y/N."
"I didn't like how the husband kept staring at me."
"Y/N. . ."
"He wasn't just staring at me," I cut him off, quickly turning around. "He was studying me, Johnson. Like he didn't believe us."
"Hey," he soothed, reaching forward and grabbing my arms again. He rubbed them as he continued, "We don't know that. Maybe he's just a creep. Or maybe he kept checking out my wife because of how beautiful she is."
"Don't," I scoffed, walking away from him.
"Come on, Y/N," he chuckled. I grabbed the salad and the bread and walked into the dining room. Gary was right at my heels.
"You can call me crazy and paranoid all you want," I snapped, "but I know men's looks. I know when a guy is slowly figuring things out. I know when he's about to lose it. I know when he is completely oblivious to the people around them. And I know when one is studying me."
"How do you know all that?"
I turned around to go into the room to get us drinks, but Gary was right there.
"I'm good at observing people," I shrugged. I walked away before he could say anything to that.
* * * * *
Throughout dinner, Gary went through what he plans to do tomorrow when he goes to 'work'. He was actually going to be tailing Lewis all day. I was supposed to check into their financials.
When we were done, I stood up and started clearing the table. Gary cleared his throat and started helping. He finished clearing the table as I started the dishes. When he was done, he came in and sat on the counter.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," he lied. I sent him a look, making him break. "Our bedroom faces Daniel and Taytum's bedroom."
"I know," I shrugged.
"Which means they can see into ours."
Frustrated, I slammed the dishwasher shut. "Cut to the chase, Johnson," I snapped, angrily grabbing a towel and wiping my hands. He sighed as I finally turned toward him.
"We need to share a bed."
"I figured that," I said, struggling to calm myself down. I scoffed when I realized what all of this beating around the bush was about. "Grow up, Johnson. We're two adults. We can share a bed for a few nights."
I turned and walked out of the kitchen. "I know," he stuttered as he jumped off the counter and jogged after me. "But I also know how uncomfortable going undercover makes you. I didn't want to make you more uncomfortable."
I sighed as I turned around, surprising him. "Johnson," I said gently, "relax. As long as you keep your hands and other body parts to yourself, we'll both make it through this case."
Without a word, we went upstairs and started getting ready for bed. The minute we walked into the bedroom, I noticed Gary instantly walk over and close the blinds on all of our windows. We started getting ready for bed, each of us doing our own thing.
I thought Gary was still in the bathroom, so I didn't hesitate to change into my shorts and tank top. After changing into my shorts and sports bra, I was just about to slip on my tank top.
"Y/N!" Gary gasped. My breath got stuck in my throat when he ran over, grabbed my shoulders, turned me around, and took my shirt out of my hands. "What happened to you?"
I turned away, but not because I was embarrassed that I was standing in front of Gary Johnson in my pajama shorts and a sports bra. I didn't answer him as I took my tank top back and pulled it over my head.
"What happened to you, Y/N?" He tried to ask again.
"A drug bust," I tried to shrug off. When I started to walk away, he gently grabbed my arm.
"Y/N. . ." He stuttered.
"I'm fine," I said, tearing my arm out of his hold. Before he could stop me again, I quickly ducked into the bathroom.
After getting ready for bed, I walked out of the bathroom to see Gary sitting on the edge of the bed. My heart jumped into my throat when it looked like he was waiting for me.
I quickly shook that idea out of my head and went to my side of the bed. Without a word to him, I crawled under the covers. My back was to him as he stood up, walked to his side, and lay down.
"Y/N," he whispered, "please turn toward me."
I hesitated for a minute before rolling toward him. When I was facing him, we were closer than I thought we would be. His eyes were soft as he studied me.
"What happened to you?"
"The day before I got this assignment," I sighed, giving in to him, "I was part of the team that took down a drug smuggling ring. The head guy ran off. I chased after him, and when I caught up to him. . . Let's just say he didn't expect me to be a trained fighter, and I didn't expect him to be sampling his own stash."
"That piece of. . ." Gary started to threaten. It was then that I saw the anger building in his eyes. "When we are done, I will help you hunt him down. When we find him, I will kick his ass."
"There's no need," I lightly chuckled. My smile dropped when I added, "He left me no choice."
He reached forward and gently moved some hair out of my face. His hand lingered as he whispered, "I'm sorry you had to do that."
"It's fine," I shrugged. "We all have to. . . If I didn't, he would've killed me first. I had no choice. I had to. . ."
Gary cut me off by leaning in and gently pressing his lips to mine. I started to kiss him back, but quickly broke it.
"Was that. . . Was that part of our cover?"
"No," he said instantly. "It wasn't. That was me relieved that you are okay."
My heart jumped into my throat when he lifted the blanket and slightly moved my tank top. I watched his eyes as he scanned my bruises.
"It was days ago," I stuttered. "I'm mostly healed. I should be fine in a couple of days."
I gasped when he put his cold hand over the worst bruise on my hip. With his hand still there, he looked up at me.
He stared deeply into my eyes as he whispered, "No one is ever going to lay a finger on you. Ever again."
