It was fucking ridiculous that I wanted to see more.

***

AFTER WE PICKED up her stuff from the hotel, we headed back to my apartment. I was still processing the fact that she was seating right next to me. I'd encountered many women, and I thought Brooklyn was my first lust. Now, it never occurred to me that I would still feel the same toward her after all this time.

She wasn't the same girl that I used to think of—her lively nature had been gone, and all I could see in her eyes was the pits of emptiness staring blankly outside the car.

Her hands were interlaced on her lap, and she often pressed her thighs together and sometimes licked her lips as if she was thinking of something naughty. My cock thickened, just the thought of her on me. What's wrong with me?

Suddenly, the tension inside the car built into an enormous entity. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel and thought of something terrible.

Then she spoke, "What do you do for a living?"

"I was in the Marine Corps, honorably discharged, and then I helped my comrade with his Train-Art. A self-defense training center. How about you? Before..." I hesitated, "...before the accident."

"I taught in kindergarten."

My head snapped to her side, smiling. "Really?" I could definitely see her with kids. She seemed to have a great childhood. I just didn't know what happened to her after she left.

"Yes, I love kids." She swallowed.

"You can teach again after the surgery, Brooklyn," I assured her.

She smiled. "If there's no complication. My eye could reject the graft. It still hurts even it already scarred, and it's even hard when you can only see through an eye. I'd rather lose both."

"Don't even say that." My voice came out like a roar, and she flinched.

"I'm sorry." Fuck! I just frightened the poor woman. "Every time I went on patrol with my team, I thought I'd never come back to the camp alive. Then now I am back home, I thought I would never be able to wake and just die in a nightmare. It wasn't always about the war, sometimes it's about how Mom and my little sister died in an accident."

"I'm sorry."

I startled in my seat to find her hand on my arm. My pulse pounded in my ears, and heat instantly spread through me and went right straight to my groin. I wanted to growl for her to get the message, and instead, she gripped my arm as a form of her sympathy. I swallowed repeatedly as my throat went dry. She sensed the tensing of my muscles and discomfort, and she slowly peeled off her hand from me.

"Don't you have a friend or a family?"

"Are you tired of babysitting me already?" she asked, seemingly amused.

"Nope, not kicking you out. Imogen might curse me if I will do that. How did you two meet?"

"She was one of the nurses in the department. I received a call from her, then we talked for over an hour about our lives, and she seemed kind and genuine. I mentioned to her that I am staying in one of the hotel rooms, then she said she knows someone I can trust and that you are like a brother to her. She also said you are harmless even you look tough."

"That's it, and you believe her? She could be lying."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A dangerous person."

"What do you think?" I side glanced at her.

"You are broody and probably have baggage, but there's something about you that tells me hurting people is not what you are."

"Don't trust in everything Imogen has told you."

She chuckled, "I'll think about that."

"Good. You must be hungry, what do you prefer for dinner?"

"I can eat anything."

"Do you mind if we'll just order?" I am not a cook. I could scramble egg and roast some meat, but not a good time—she probably wanted to take a rest instead of waiting for a home cook meal.

I led her way to the apartment. I had a spare room that needed cleaning. It had been months since Imogen used that space. Once we were inside, sweaty and exhausted Imogen made her way out of the room.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" I dropped the suitcase with a thud.

"I know you probably didn't clean this room since the last time I crashed here, and I was right. I'm done, and you're welcome." She moved closer to the woman beside me. "Good to see you again, Brooklyn. And ignore his insolence, trust me he has a soft spot over women. He only needs to get laid." She ignored my groan and glare.

"You really shouldn't have done that," Brooklyn said shyly.

"I know, and my dear brother Arrow would never allow you to work, and sometimes he will take care of everything, and it annoys you, but that's who he is." She picked up her bag from the couch and strode directly to the door.

"Where are you doing?"

She stopped. Her hand was already on the knob. "I need to go to work. I'll take a shower at the hospital."

"Why what's wrong with the shower here?"

"Nothing. Take care of her, okay? I love you. Bye!" That was it. She stormed away, leaving us alone puzzled.

The room filled with silence as we were still stunned to what Imogen had done. I gave her the key to the apartment because she was the only person I trust. Now I could feel she was doing something that she had not done before, and it terrified and started to piss me off.

Brooklyn excused herself to check the room. I oriented her to the entire apartment and the bathroom. Before I left, I informed her that I already ordered our dinner.

After an hour, the pizza arrived, and still no sign of Brooklyn, and I couldn't call her—I didn't have her number yet. I knocked on her door and no response from inside.

"Brooklyn, dinner is ready!" After a minute, I pushed her door open, and it was unlocked. I peeked inside. The light was on and the room was perfectly tidy and seemed untouched other than a pair of pajamas, panties, and bra on top of her bed. I looked away and pretended I did not see them there.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and the light cast a warm glow. Then Brooklyn stopped right in front of the door. And fucking wet and naked. The exposure of her creamy skin was a sight—it was glowing under the light. Droplets of water rolled down her arm.

I swallowed hard when my gaze flickered to the most gorgeous tit I'd ever seen. Her pink puckered nipple formed taut point as if needing my attention. My cock was heavy and strained against my sweatpants, and I was still standing rooted in my place like a fucking statue.

It was fucking ridiculous that I wanted to see more. It was creepy, and at the same time, I felt like I was a peeping tom.

I shifted when she wrapped a towel around her body, and my cock developed its own brain—it was out of my control. My hand flew to my growing groin, and I finally able to take the air into my burning lungs.

And fuck. My heart hammered when our gazes locked.