Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,9
the quiet, good-natured, ridiculously sexy ex-army Ranger. But maybe there’s more to him than I ever imagined.
Of course, I’m the last person who should be delving into anyone’s personal life or dark past. I have my own ghosts that haunt me every single day. Just trying to make myself better and accomplishing my dream of opening my own yoga studio is what I need to be focused on. Not my painful past. Not Drake’s, either.
So why am I now digging myself in deeper? I can’t answer that. It’s unexplainable. But I know that at least for tonight, I need to be here for him.
I grab a bottle of tequila—go big or go home, right?—from the cabinet underneath the bar in the dining room and two shot glasses.
Drake’s eyes widen when I reappear in the living room, and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He’s completely wrecked.
I hold up the bottle. “Found some!”
With a crooked smile that jump-starts my heart in a way I don’t want to analyze, he gestures toward the spot next to him. “By all means, sweetheart. Give it your best.”
I plop down beside him and narrow my eyes. “Was that a challenge, Sullivan?”
His eyes twinkle with amusement. “I think I’ll lose every challenge with you, Mea.”
Nodding firmly, I pour myself a shot. “You’re damn right about that.”
Knocking it back, I relish the burn of the liquid. I’m no stranger to tequila. Or any other type of liquor, for that matter. There have been a lot of nights in my life that I’ve just wanted to be numb. To forget.
But this isn’t one of them. This is for Drake.
Smiling broadly, I take a second shot. “No chaser.”
He raises a brow. “Impressive.”
After the third shot in quick succession, I sit back and raise two fists in the air. “I think that was a good start. At this rate, I’ll be where you are in no time.”
He smiles, a real, genuine smile that turns his face into the purest form of light. For a second, I’m caught by it, frozen in the depth of his sunshine. How can one man be full of so much light one minute, and so much darkness in the next?
It’s the first time I’ve realized that usually when he smiles, it’s hollow. His normal smirk shines only a fraction of the light that this full-watt grin does.
What’s Drake Sullivan been hiding behind that easy smirk?
As the alcohol begins to send signals of pleasant numbness throughout my arms and legs, I lean back against the cushion and pull my legs up to my chest, facing Drake. I study his profile, noting again just how attractive he is right before he turns his head and meets my gaze.
“Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me.”
I squirm, discomfort settling hard in the bottom of my stomach. My tongue is looser now after three shots of tequila, and I speak without my usual guard. “I don’t hate you. I just…” My voice, already set in a whisper, fades away into nothingness.
Drake leans toward me. His forehead wrinkles and his eyes go all soft in concern. He reaches out, but when I flinch away his hand drops down beside him. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression, and I close my eyes so he doesn’t see any more of what I’m trying so desperately to keep behind my high stone walls.
“Mea…I didn’t hurt you that night, did I?” His voice is heavy, like he’s already carrying the weight of my past pain. His gaze burns into mine, like he needs the answer to this question more than he needs his next breath.
I shake my head, wanting to reassure him. “No, Drake. It was…me. It’s always me.”
He just keeps staring, and I need to ramble on. “I have rules, you know? When it comes to being with men. I don’t do anything more than a one-night stand. So seeing you again, after…it surprised me. I didn’t expect to ever see you again, much less have you so embedded in my life.”
He nods slowly. But his expression stays soft as he scrutinizes my face. “Rules…about sex. Why would you need those, Mea?”
The energy that constantly keeps me moving buoys me and I pop up from the couch and begin to pace. Drake’s eyes follow me, burning into my skin and burrowing deep inside me where I don’t want him to go.
“I just do. Okay?” My face is defiant as I halt and face him once more. Silently,