I’m not sure how long we lie there like that, with him holding me close and my hands and cheek resting against the parts of him I can only imagine still remain a source of turmoil, but it’s quite a while. Enough time for me to start overthinking and questioning what the hell I’m doing, lying in a bed with a man cuddling when I don’t cuddle—like ever—and when I have a mile-long list of shit to do.

And it also makes me realize why I never stop, pause, think. Because when I do that, I see that although no one has ever seen my scars, they’re there. Gunner’s physical scars are fresh. And in some respects, his inner scars are too. But the loss of his dad so many years ago is an older scar that has contributed to who he is today.

As do yours. But I won’t let anyone see those.

Because you live as if they don’t exist.

As if they haven’t contributed to who you are today.

As if they will never see the light, find the place to heal.

“You know it’s ridiculous that you’re staying here, right?” he finally says to break the silence bathing us, almost as if he knows I’m silently starting to freak out.

“Not this again.” I laugh, thinking back to when he followed me back “home” last night to find out that my “home” was, in fact, the hotel.

“Yes, this again.” He presses a kiss to the crown of my head and chuckles. “I told you I have a perfectly acceptable extra bedroom at my place that’s yours if you want it.”

“And I believe I told you that there is no way I’m moving in with you.”

His exasperated sigh fills the hotel room, as does the scrape of his stubble when he runs his hand over his face in frustration. “You wouldn’t be moving in with me. I . . . shit, I’ve roomed with a bunch of different characters in my time in the service. I’m looking at it as merely providing you a place to stay that’s not the local hotel.”

I lean back and meet his eyes. “I thank you for the offer. I do.” I run a finger down the line of his chest. “But you told me you understand my independence and so—”

“Independence and practicality are two completely separate things.”

“I barely even know you, Gunner. I mean—”

“You know the best parts of me though.” He grins and wiggles his hips against me.