with the HoLFs. “Did you feel anything before they attacked?”
Beau rubs his arm. “Yeah, cold. The pits are always damp, but there was a wave of cold air that hit me from behind right before you told me to duck. Why?”
I explained how that could alert the officers guarding the pits. “Also, are you still willing to go on the expedition to Pit 21?”
“I’m insulted that you thought you needed to ask.”
“Not me, my father.”
Beau grunts. “You know my answer.”
I did.
“On your way out tell Morgan I’ll be finished with the analysis sooner than expected. Seems I have some free time this afternoon.” He gives me a pointed look.
“Is that what Morgan interrupted us for?” I ask.
“No. There was a situation in detention. Morgan rearranged roommates and needed a couple extra guards to keep everyone civil.”
“Another riot?”
“No. Nothing on that scale. It was a fight between two prisoners. Tempers have been flaring. Morgan’s mixing it up so two people don’t get on each other’s nerves as often, give some a cell to themselves for a while, things like that, hoping to settle everyone down. You know those cells are too small for even one person let alone two.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve never been in one.” I smirk.
“Brat.” He gives me a grudging smile, though. “If you’re feeling better, I have—”
“Ow, my head.” I press my hand to my forehead and skedaddle before he can assign me to some mundane task.
I relay his message to Morgan and then head back to my unit. Except I stop outside Niall’s instead. Standing there, I debate. The desire to check on him and ensure he’s okay wars with being unwilling to disturb his rest.
The door opens before I can make up my mind. Niall’s wearing pajama pants and nothing else. Oh my stars.
His bare torso is sculpted with muscles. The desire to run my hands over his chest presses on me. Then I spot the lacerations along his arms and shoulders. And the gash on his forehead sports a row of stitches. His hair is damp and slicked back from a recent shower. The intoxicating scent of sage grass reaches me, confirming my guess. An image of Niall in the shower sends a bolt of heat through me.
“Something wrong, Mouse?” he asks when I continue to stand there like an idiot and stare.
“I came to check on you. Beau said…” I draw in a breath—get a grip, girl. “Why aren’t you resting?”
“Because I heard footsteps pause outside my unit. Why didn’t you knock?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
He huffs in amusement.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he grabs my hand and tugs me inside, closing the door behind me. I follow him into the small living area. On the floor next to the couch is a sketchpad and pencil. On the open page is a half-finished drawing of…me wearing my security jumpsuit. My posture is tense and I’m wielding my flashlight like a weapon. Wisps of hair frame my face. My expression is…fierce.
I meet Niall’s gaze.
“I’m going to call it ‘Chasing the Shadows’ when it’s done,” he says.
“Technically shadow-blobs.”
“That doesn’t sound as good.”
“You never answered my question.”
He pulls me down to sit next to him on the couch. “I’m much better now that you’re here.”
“Have you rested at all?”
“I slept until a decadent hour. Besides, drawing is relaxing and you were on my mind.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder, tucking me close.
The scent of his shampoo is now mixed with a decidedly male musk. I inhale, filling my lungs.
“Beau said you needed twenty-five stitches.”
He snorts in derision. “Everything’s a competition with him.”
Still. “Your dad’s worried about the expedition to Pit 21. My dad—”
“I’m still going.”
No surprise. I snuggle in, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Aren’t you supposed to be worming with Dorey?” he asks.
I explain what happened and endure the admonishments. Good thing I didn’t mention flying along the star roads. It’s one of those things that I know I should fess up to, but am reluctant for reasons unknown…Okay, I wish to avoid the unpleasantness that will no doubt occur. Brain scans aren’t fun, people. When I reassure him that my headache has gone—it has—I say, “It got me a few hours off to rest.” I trace the cut on his forehead with a gentle fingertip. “We can rest together.”
Heat flares in his blue-green eyes. Then his lips press on mine and I deepen the kiss. We shift so I’m sitting in his lap and we’re facing each other.