Another step. Her back hits the wall. Nowhere to retreat now.
"What are you doing?" she asks in a whisper.
I stop just inches from her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. Close enough to see the fine tremor in her hands. But I don't touch her—not yet. Instead, I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers. It's the most vulnerable position I've been in a very long time.
"Something I never do," I murmur.
Our breath mingles. I close my eyes, unable to bear the weight of her gaze.
"Give me another chance, Lila." The words taste strange on my tongue. Sour. Foreign. When have I ever asked for a second chance at anything? "Please."
Christ, I'm begging. Dane fucking Wolfe, reduced to pleading. If my old unit could see me now, they'd laugh their asses off. The man who'd rather bleed out than call for backup, now asking—no, begging—a woman half his size not to walk away.
The universe has a sick sense of humor.
"Why should I?" Her voice is steady now, stronger.
"Because I know what it's like to build walls." My voice drops lower. "To keep everyone at a distance because it feels safer that way. To think you're protecting yourself when really you're just slowly suffocating."
Her breath catches.
"The thing is," I continue, "walls work both ways. They keep people out, sure. But they also keep you locked in."
I pull back just enough to look at her, to really see her. Her eyes gleam—a little scared, a little defiant. Beautiful.
"You're the first person in a long time who makes me want to tear down my walls. And that scares the shit out of me."
A flicker of surprise crosses her face. Maybe she didn't expect honesty. Most people don't, not from men like me.
"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," I say, the corner of my mouth lifting in a humorless smirk. "I'm good at fucking up. Professional grade. But I can promise I'll try. And I don't try for just anyone, Lila."
The moment stretches between us, taut as a tripwire. This is it—the invisible line between retreating to our separate corners or stepping into something neither of us fully understands. Something that could destroy us both.
But destruction's never scared me. Maybe that's my problem.
Whatever happens next, I know one thing for certain: Lila Marks has gotten under my skin in a way no one else ever has. And I'll be damned if I let her slip away without a fight.
I pull back abruptly, using every ounce of military discipline not to reach for her again. Strategic retreat—that's what this is. Not running away.
"You don't have to answer now," I say, my voice rough around the edges. "I'll go."
The look on her face is unreadable—part relief, part disappointment. Fuck if that doesn't twist something inside me. But I've pushed enough tonight. Sometimes winning means knowing when to back off.
"Dane, I?—"
"It's okay." I cut her off before she can say something we'll both regret. "Get some sleep, Lila."
Walking out her door is like moving through quicksand. Every step away from her pulls at something primal in me, something that wants to turn around, pin her against that wall, and show her exactly what she does to me. But that's the animal talking. And I've spent too many years keeping that part of me caged to let it loose now. Not with her. Not unless she lets me.
The night air hits me like a slap as I exit her building. I inhale deeply, trying to clear my head of her scent, her taste. It doesn't work. She's under my skin so deep now, an itch I can't scratch.
I get in my car and circle the block, parking behind the abandoned building across from her place. My surveillance gear is still set up inside, waiting like a loyal dog for its master's return.
Fucking pathetic. I know it even as I release the lock, silent as a shadow. I know it as I settle into my makeshift observation post, adjusting the directional mic toward her window. I know it as her voice fills my headphones, cracked and emotional as she calls someone—Tessa, probably.
"...almost lost it when he touched me like that..." Her voice wavers. "But then he stopped. Just...stopped."
She sounds surprised. Like no man has ever respected her boundaries before. The thought makes my hands curl into fists.