Kristina came out of school and stepped into the warm June sun. She felt restless and kinda down. And she didn’t have to think too hard to figure out why.

The fight with Noah. And the fact that he hadn’t bothered to call or text her until this morning.

The three days of silence had her repeatedly analyzing why she’d agreed to go out with Ethan. Maybe she had accepted to make Noah jealous? Maybe even unconsciously? Either way, she felt like crap about the silence that had been between them ever since.

Maybe she should pick up some dinner to take over to his place…

“Bye, Miss Moore,” two girls from her fourth period class called, giggling and whispering conspiratorially between themselves.

“Bye, girls. Have a good night,” she said, giving them a smile. Not even dinner and drinks with Kate on Sunday night had cheered her up. At least, not all the way. Because Kate’s question had been weighing on her mind, and she still didn’t have a good answer to it.

Kristina rounded the corner of the building and glanced toward the parking lot.

Noah.

Leaning against the driver’s door to her car. He hadn’t spotted her yet, so she took a minute to drink him in. He wore blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt and a pair of bad-ass black sunglasses. Together with his dark hair, he was tall, dark, and handsome personified.

Or maybe that should be tall, dark, and brooding.

Either way, it made her sigh with longing.

Noah finally glanced up and saw her standing there, so Kristina closed the distance between them. “What are you doing here, silly man?” she asked, hoping she sounded normal.

“Delivering a peace offering.” He slid off his sunglasses and held out a small, dark blue cooler bag.

“A peace offering?” Relief curled into her belly. She hadn’t been the only one worried about the tension between them then. Kristina smiled uncertainly as she accepted it from him and rested it on the hood of her car so she could unzip it. Four pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream—Hazed and Confused, Americone Dream, Chocolate Therapy, and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, naturally. She laughed and warmth filled her chest. “Unnecessary but very appreciated.”

Fingers just barely caressed the bottom of her chin, urging her to look up. “No. Very necessary. I was an asshole. And you were right to be pissed about that. I’m sorry.”

His apology caught her off-guard. “I actually thought you were mad at me,” she said.

He frowned. “Why would I be mad?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought…maybe…I’d been inconsiderate.”

Noah shook his head. “You weren’t. Not at all, Kristina. That was all me. And it’s time I try to get my shit together.”

Kristina studied his eyes, which somehow looked a little lighter despite the circles underneath. “Meaning?”

“I signed up for a class at your art school. For starters, I guess,” he said, dropping his gaze.

“You did?” He nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. “That’s so awesome!”

He kicked the toe of his shoe against the asphalt. “We’ll see. Makes me feel a like a kid signing up for arts and crafts, but—” Noah shrugged. “—whatever. I’ll give it a try. I gotta give something a try.”

Kristina nodded, happiness and affection making her grin. She knew it couldn’t be easy for a guy trained to kill you in fifty-two different ways to walk into an art therapy class, but everything on that flyer had been for active-duty or veterans, so he wouldn’t be the only highly trained killer wielding a pen…or a paintbrush…or whatever. Speaking of which… “What class did you register for?”

He nudged the cooler. “Have a reverse dinner with me? And I’ll tell you all about it.”

“You got it,” she said. “Hop in.”

Twenty minutes later, they were finding a spot in the grass at Gravelly Point, a park along the Potomac River that sat right across a small inlet from the runway at Reagan International Airport. Picnicking in the park, the planes took off and landed right over your heads, making it a fun place to hang out, walk, or catch some rays. She and Noah had been going there for years.

Noah spread a blanket on the grass and they both sprawled out on their stomachs, which was a little awkward for Kristina in her pale blue jersey wrap dress, but the sun felt so good she didn’t care.

“What do you want to start with?” Noah asked, unzipping the cooler. He reached in and produced a spoon, which he handed to her.

“Ooh, look at you, Boy Scout,” Kristina said. “I’ll start with some Chocolate Therapy. It’s the last week of school, after all, and the kids are climbing the freaking walls.”

Noah pulled out his old favorite and tugged off the lid. “I remember that. The last week of school always seemed so pointless. Exams were over. Grades were in. And yet we were still stuck in school.”

“Pretty much,” Kristina said, opening her pint. The ice packs in the cooler had mostly done their job, but the ice cream was just a little soft, making it easy to get a nice big scoop. “Mmm, this is so good.” She swallowed and gestured with her spoon. “And I need the downtime so I can finish getting my course materials together for my short story class. Speaking of which, tell me about this class you’re taking.”

He poked around at his ice cream for a minute, and then finally said, “It’s a mask-making workshop. Creating masks that illustrate veterans’ hidden feelings.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but she didn’t give him a hard time about it.

Because the fact that he was trying made something squeeze in Kristina’s chest. Concern. Affection. Pride. “That sounds like it could be cool.”

“Yeah, I guess. Hopefully it’s not too…touchy-feely.”

“It’ll be a classroom full of people just like you. You’re probably not the only one for whom something like this is new.” Kristina ate another bite and eyeballed Noah’s reaction. Things seemed normal between them again. Relaxed. Relief could’ve melted her right into the warm blanket.

“That’s true,” Noah said.

“Oh, here comes a plane,” Kristina said, pointing over Noah’s shoulder.

Noah peered up at the sky to see—

His whole body went rigid. Kristina thought she imagined it at first. But as the airplane got closer, his arms flew over his head like he was shielding himself. The airplane was nearly overhead now, so low it felt like you could touch it, and the roar of the engines got louder and louder as it passed them by to land just across the water.

“Noah?” she said. No response. No wonder, between his hearing deficit and the plane.

She scooted closer, unsure whether to touch him, but absolutely certain that he needed her to help bring him back from wherever he’d gone. Laying right beside him, she gently rested her hand between his tense shoulder blades. Still no response.

With her lips close to his good ear, she said, “Noah, it’s okay. You’re not in—”

He pinned her. In a quick series of moves, he pushed her to her back and covered her upper body and face with his. “It’ll be over soon. And then I’ll get you out of here. Just hang on, man.”

Kristina didn’t even want to imagine the scene his mind was painting for him. She had to bring him back. “Noah. It’s me, Kristina. You’re okay. Everyone’s okay.”

But, oh God, over his shoulder she spied another plane coming in for a landing. Sometimes it was like that—lulls intermixed with one landing after another.

It was clear when Noah heard the second plane, because he jerked, his far-off gaze searching for the source of the low rumble. She could feel it in the ground on which she lay as much as hear it. “Fuck. Incoming.”

She cupped his face in her hands. Her mind scrambled. On instinct she barked, “Cortez!” His eyes snapped toward her.

Kristina kissed him.

At first, he didn’t respond. And then his lips moved softly, tentatively, like he wasn’t sure. And then he was freaking devouring her.

His muscles went lax on a groan and he wrapped himself around her. His arms cradled her shoulders. His hands raked into her hair. All while his lips sucked and his tongue plundered and his teeth nipped.

“Fuck,” he moaned as the plane passed directly overhead, the engine roar louder now. He shuddered out a breath that ghosted over her wet lips. “You saved me.”

And she would keep on doing it, as long and as much as he needed her to do it. All the while, it was like she was caught in the center of a storm. Heat lashed her nipples and core. Concern tossed her belly. Emotion overwhelmed her like a waving crashing over her head.

She had no time to wonder whether this was a good idea. She couldn’t let herself take the time to think, to debate, to weigh the pros and cons. She reacted on pure instinct—the instinct that said that Noah needed her to ground him in this world. Right here. Right now. And she was willing to do anything to bring him back to her.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his lips claiming hers again and again. “So sorry.”

She shook her head, her fingers plowing into his hair. “You’re good. We’re good.” Needing him, too, she sucked on his tongue hard, and the strangled groan he unleashed was a heady thing. Hot and needy. Raw with emotion.

The plane’s noise receded.

No part of Kristina wanted to give up Noah’s kisses. And she knew they had a better than average chance of taking another hard left into awkward territory once this moment passed. But they had to leave before the next plane started in on its descent.

Pulling back and breathing hard, she held his face in her hands. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dark brown eyes searched hers, and even with the tension carving hard angles into his face, he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He studied her a long moment, then gave a tight nod, his gaze skittering around them like he was looking to see if anyone else had noticed him.

Noah rose to his feet and looked toward the distant sky, wariness in his eyes. Kristina knew what he was looking for, which was why she had the cooler packed up and the blanket balled in her arms in mere seconds. She took his hand, and his fingers wrapped tightly around hers. Like maybe he still needed her to ground him. And she was totally okay with that.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, she turned to him. “Come home with me and I’ll cook dinner?”

He scowled out the windshield. “Barely had dessert.”

“Have you ever known me to waste ice cream, Cortez?” She raised an eyebrow at him, hoping against hope that things wouldn’t become awkward. “Now, you game?”

“Means you’d have to take me back to my car later,” he gritted out.

The fact that he wasn’t demanding she take him there now seemed like an admission that he still wasn’t feeling quite right. Kristina shrugged. “Deal.”

His only answer was a single tight nod.

The car ride home was quiet and tense. The only sound was the brushing of Noah’s jeans against the center console as he bounced his foot. Kristina wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better, so instead she played things normal by singing along to the radio. Rush hour traffic dragged out the trip, but soon they were home and climbing the steps to her second-floor apartment.

Noah still hadn’t said a word.

She let them in and dropped her purse to the kitchen counter, then turned to find Noah sagging back against the door. He crossed his arms, let his head fall backward, and closed his eyes.

The man looked so freaking weary that it broke her heart. She couldn’t help but go to him.

Kristina awkwardly hugged him, her hands going as far around him as she could with his arms folded across his chest. She rested her forehead against his sternum. For a long moment, they stood like that.

“Everything…everything is different now,” he finally said, voice tight and gravelly. “So much that I used to take for granted is just gone for me, and it…it just—”

The sound of him swallowing thickly reached her ears, but she stayed silent to let him finish. Because he’d never before talked to her about what he was feeling, and she didn’t want him to stop.

But he did. Kristina lifted her face to his—and found his dark brown eyes blazing down at her. “You’ll get through this, Noah. I’ll help you.”

“I’m no good right now, Kristina,” he said in a low voice.

She shook her head. “That’s not true. You’ve been through something horrible. And you’re still recovering. Still hurting. That’s all understandable—”

“I am fucked in the head. You saw it yourself. Twice,” he said, his voice suddenly loud, bitter. Under her hands, his muscles tensed.

“You are not fucked in the head,” she said, anger and determination gathering deep in her belly. Not anger at Noah, but irrational anger for him. She hated that things had happened to him that left him feeling this way. So out of control, so sad, so unlike himself. “Sure, you have things you’re dealing with. And you will get a handle on them—”

“No,” he said, shaking her off and pacing in the narrow space behind the door. “You don’t understand. I’m…” His hands squeezed into fists at his sides. “…so goddamned angry. All the time. It feels like I could tear the world to pieces. And I want to.” He whirled on her. “Because the perfection of everything around me makes me feel so much more wrecked inside that I can barely breathe.”

Oh, God.

Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She wouldn’t let herself fall apart. Not now. Not in front of him. Not when Noah needed to lean on her so damn badly. “The world around you is not perfect, Noah. It’s an illusion. And you are not wrecked—”

“I am.” He got right up in her face.

Kristina held her ground. “You’re not—”

“I am!”

“Noah—”

He grabbed her by the arms, not so much that it hurt, but with enough force that it surprised her. “Here’s your proof. I want to fuck you, Kristina. I want to bury myself in you and stay there forever. Just lose myself in you until I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve been fantasizing about it, dreaming about it, imagining it. Having you is all I can fucking think about. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Noah’s words unleashed a flash fire in Kristina’s blood. Her heart tripped into a sprint. Her breathing shallowed out. Heat roared across her skin. One heartbeat. Two. And Kristina knew what she had to do.

Acting on instinct, she pulled out of Noah’s grip and stepped backward. Away from his confession. Away from him.