A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 283

ALEXANDER

The office felt different when it was just the two of us. Less like a place of work, more like an extension of whatever life we were slowly building between meetings, reports, and responsibilities.

Faye was sitting on the couch across from my desk, slightly turned inward, her posture relaxed but distant in that familiar way I’d learned to recognize.

She wasn’t looking around or at anything in particular. Her attention was on her hands, fingers absentmindedly tracing small patterns over the fabric resting on her lap.

Circles. Lines. The same shapes, over and over.

She did that when her thoughts were louder than she wanted them to be.

I didn’t interrupt her right away. I just watched her for a moment longer than necessary, taking her in like I always did when she forgot she was being observed. There was something unguarded about her like this, something honest in the stillness. She didn’t look sad–just quiet.

I closed the laptop quietly and set it aside. The sound was small, but it was enough to pull her back slightly. Her head lifted just a fraction, though her eyes didn’t meet mine.

I stood and crossed the room without speaking.

When I sat beside her, the couch dipped gently, and she glanced up at me with mild surprise, as if she hadn’t expected me to leave the desk at all. I didn’t give her time to overthink it. I reached for her easily, naturally, and pulled her closer until her shoulder brushed my chest.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she adjusted, settling against my side, her head resting comfortably against my shoulder.

That smile did something to me. It always did.

I wrapped an arm around her without thinking, my hand resting against her upper arm, my thumb moving slowly in a steady, grounding rhythm. She shifted again, this time deliberately, tucking herself closer as if she belonged there.

We stayed like that for a moment, neither of us speaking, the silence no longer heavy but familiar… comfortable.

“Are you okay?” I asked casually, keeping my voice light, like it was just another passing question.

She laughed under her breath, the sound quiet and almost surprised, as if it had slipped out before she could stop it.

“I’m trying to be,” she whispered. “But I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.”

She lifted her gaze then, finally meeting mine.

There it was.

Not the practiced calm. Not the automatic reassurance she usually offered. Not I’m fine or I’ll manage or don’t worry about me.

Just honesty.

It caught me off guard more than I could say.

I looked down… really looked at her. And I felt it, genuinely.

Relief.

“Hell no,” Alexander said immediately. “That was the biggest fight of my life.”

That made me laugh for real this time. I shifted slightly, pushing myself upright, and nudged him in the side with my elbow. It wasn’t hard–not really–but he reacted like I’d struck a vital organ, sucking in a breath and grimacing dramatically.

“I’m still sore from where you hit me,” he said, his hand going to his side as if in pain.

I raised a brow at him, unimpressed. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself. He gave me that signature smile that does things to me.

Without thinking too much about it, I moved. I turned toward him and climbed into his lap, straddling him in one smooth motion. The surprise on his face was immediate–his body tensing for half a second before going still, as if he’d decided to wait and see where this was going.

I reached for his hands and guided them to my waist, pressing them there deliberately. He didn’t resist. He didn’t tighten his grip either. He just let them rest where I placed them, his attention fully on me now.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, settling closer, feeling the steady warmth of him beneath me. He stayed quiet, watching, reading me the way he always did when he chose patience.

I lifted one hand and traced the familiar shape of his face with my fingers–along his jaw, over the line of his cheek, up toward his temple–then slowly back down again, my touch unhurried.

My fingers moved from his jaw to his mouth, following the curve of his lips.