“I’ll come find you as soon as we have something.” She glanced up at him. Smiled. “Are you going to rec night tonight? I hear Cruz might even play guitar for us.”
The Friday-night gathering was a chance for everyone to blow off a bit of steam and drink too much homebrewed beer. And Cruz had an unreal talent with a guitar, although lately Marcus hadn’t seen the man play too much.
Marcus usually made an appearance at these parties, then left early to head back to his room to study raptor movements or plan the squad’s next missions. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Great.” She smiled. “I’ll see you there, then.” She hurried out clutching the chip.
He stared at the tunnel where she’d exited for a long while after she disappeared, and finally ripped his chest armor off. Ah, on second thought, maybe going to the rec night wasn’t a great idea. Watching her pretty face and captivating smile would drive him crazy. He cursed under his breath. He really needed that cold shower.
As he left the landing pads, he reminded himself he should be thinking of the mission. Destroy the hub and kill more aliens. Rinse and repeat. Death and killing, that was about all he knew.
He breathed in and caught a faint trace of Elle’s floral scent. She was clean and fresh and good. She always worried about them, always had a smile, and she was damned good at providing their comms and intel.
She was why he fought through the muck every day. So she could live and the goodness in her would survive. She deserved more than blood and death and killing.
And she sure as hell deserved more than a battled-scarred, bloodstained soldier.