Page 93 of The Man I Hate

It was as if I was seeing her for the first time.

My father was right. Kissing her opened a door within my soul that I had no idea existed. When we kissed, Anna unknowingly stepped through it. She now resided in a place alongside my beloved Marines; protected, admired, and respected.

I needed to know if she felt the same way but had no idea how to ask. I continued my admiring observation. I didn’t know what else to do.

“Hell-o,” she said sarcastically. “Earth to Rourke, Braxton Rourke. Come in Rourke, Braxton Rourke.”

I gazed at her blankly, wondering if it was a fluke. Had the disease compromised my ability to reason? I’d been immune to the feelings of attraction for more than ten years. I needed to know for sure before I made the commitment.

I lifted her chin. I pressed my lips against hers. We kissed. My head began to tingle. An indescribable sensation of contentment filled me, completely.

I pulled away.

She seemed surprised that I’d ended the kiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I gave her a quick once-over. “What do you want out of this?”

Her gaze narrowed a little. “What’s this?”

“You and me,” I replied. “Us.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Honestly, I hate to set my sights on something too glorious, because—”

“If you got to choose what happened between us, what would it be? Anything goes.”

Her lips parted slightly. Seeming hesitant to speak her mind, she brushed her hair behind her ear. With worry in her eyes, she studied me.

“Anything,” I said. “What would it be?”

“When we met? I liked you. You were intriguing. We had sex. It was amazing. I wanted more.” Her gaze fell to the driveway. “More sex, really. I mean, I didn’t like the idea of being rejected, but at that point it wasn’t about anything but sex. When you got sick, I was your wannabe nurse. I spent every waking hour with you. I learned more about who you really are. I found out more about myself, too. I still like you, but now it’s for all the right reasons. We can either be friends, or we can be lovers, but we can’t be in between,” She met my gaze. “If I get to pick, I want to be lovers.”

“Lovers?” I asked. “We’d be in a full-fledged relationship?”

“Call it whatever makes you comfortable.” She kicked an errant stone with the toe of her shoe. “But that’s what I want. If I get to pick. If that’s what we decide, there will be a few rules.”

“Like what?”

“As far as sex goes, we’re not jumping right back to where we were. Like I said, I want this to be for all the right reasons. To convince myself that it is, we need to start slow.”

It wasn’t much of a sacrifice. Kissing her was as good as any sex that I’d ever had. However, as right as it felt to kiss her, the thought of committing to a relationship scared the hell out of me.

“I’ve been shot twice, cut more times than I can count, lived through two IED explosions, had three bones broken, and had my skull fractured,” I said. “Nothing was as painful as being cheated on. The pain of having that trust severed? It was—”

“I know,” she said. “It’s happened to me, too.”

“You’ve been cheated on?”

“More times than I can count.”

“You’re trustworthy,” I said, expressing my conscious thoughts before I could contain them.

She looked at me funny. “You’re asking me, or telling me?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe a little of both.”

“Do you carry a knife?” she asked.

“Say again?”