Did it have to do with the shouting match earlier? She hadn’t told any of the Reapers about Trevor and Cal’s argument. Today was a liberty day, and she’d been the only team member on base this afternoon to hear it. She briefly debated bringing it up now, confident the rest of the team would bully him into fessing up to what had gone on in Cal’s office.

But Trevor would not appreciate her airing his personal laundry in front of the others. Even if it was a known fact that SEAL teams had no secrets—both by operational necessity and by the stubborn, unrelenting meddling in one anothers’ lives.

As the level in the bottle of scotch dropped, the joviality and insults around the table increased. Trevor faked enjoying himself beside her, laughing at the jokes and throwing out a few token insults of his own. But she definitely sensed his mood darkening as the evening progressed.

Weird. Trevor wasn’t a mean drunk. He was the guy who always remained smoothly in control, charming and funny right up until the moment he passed out.

She finally leaned close enough to him to smell the expensive cologne he wore when off duty. His tanned neck was right there, all powerful muscles and tendons, ripe for the nibbling. His hair was short for a field operator at the moment, but still longer than military regulation length. Dark waves of it lay soft on his neck, tempting her to run her fingers through it.

She murmured in his ear, “What are you scowling so hard at your scotch for? What did it ever do to you?”

He jumped like she’d hit him with a taser. “Uhh, nothing,” he mumbled. “I’m good.”

“Well, I know you’re good. But that doesn’t answer my question. What’s wrong?”

“Really. I’m fine.”

“Really. That’s bullshit,” she retorted.

He exhaled in annoyance. “Fine. It’s bullshit. I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go somewhere else where we can talk.”

“Let’s not,” he replied sharply.

Dang it. She kept forgetting that the fantasy in her mind where he liked her back wasn’t real. What was it going to take for him to trust her enough to open up?

“Let me out, Axe,” he snapped.

Great. Now she’d scared him off. Who knew how many months it would be before he got over her practically licking his ear like that?

Axel slid out of the booth and she followed suit, mentally kicking herself every inch of the long slide. The second he had a clear escape route, Trevor bolted, practically running for the exit.