His Secret Obsession by Nichole Rose

 

Chapter One

Cyrus

 

Present Day

 

"Have I told you lately that you're my favorite brother?" my little sister asks as soon as I answer my phone.

"I'm your only brother," I remind her, smiling as I duck into my office for a little privacy. Jessa has been telling me the same thing since she was old enough to talk. Usually when she wants me to do something for her. I've told her a thousand times that all she has to do is ask, but we do this same song and dance every time.

"Don't ruin it, Cyrus," she says right on cue.

"What do you want from me today, brat?" I ask, dropping my discharge paperwork onto my desk to deal with later. I've been looking forward to filling them out since I got back from my last deployment. I'm not regretting my decision now that it's nearly here, but I'd be lying if I said the next six months aren't going to be bittersweet.

I've been in the Air Force my entire adult life. I followed in my father's footsteps and enlisted right out of high school. I won't miss war, but I will miss this place. Aside from my last two deployments, I've been stationed at Arnold's Air Force Base near Tullahoma for the last six years. While the base was decommissioned years ago and turned into an aeronautical research facility, there are still a handful of active-duty men and women stationed here. We work alongside civilian contractors on the flight simulator and various other research projects.

I love the work, but it's time to move on. There's something I need to do, and I'm running out of time. Gwen London is leaving in three months, and I'm no closer to making her mine than I was before my last deployment two years ago. She's my sister's best friend…and the only woman on the planet capable of making me weak in the knees.

The first day I met her, I fell for her. I also said something stupid and made her hate me. We've been at odds ever since, but something changed before I deployed. For the first time since I met her, she let me in. She kissed me before I left and threatened never to forgive me if I didn't come home safe. I felt like I was on top of the world. I swore to myself that I was going to make her mine when I got home.

Fate had other plans.

I went to war for nine months and came back different. It wasn't my first deployment, but it was by far my worst. The shit we did over there…well, some things should rest heavy on your soul. Taking innocent lives is one of those things.

We had faulty intel, and dozens of civilians died in a series of airstrikes meant to take out ISIL's last stronghold. No one knew they had civilian hostages in the city until it was too late. No one blamed us, but that didn't make it any easier for a single fucking one of the men on that mission. We blamed ourselves.

We were home for months before I stopped having nightmares every goddamn night. It took nearly a year for me to start feeling like myself again. During that time, I was an asshole, straight up. Short tempered. Frustrated. I said shit I didn't mean and pushed Gwen away, desperate to keep her from seeing just how fucked up I was.

Now, she's further out of my reach than ever. At first, she fought me as hard as ever. And then she just…stopped. Most days, she won't even speak to me or acknowledge my presence. She simply pretends I don't exist. It's entirely my fault, but I hate every goddamn minute of it. She let me in once. She kissed me. One day, she'll crack and let me in again. I'm not going to give up until she does.

The way I feel about her hasn't wavered once since the day I met her. She was too young for me then, but it didn't change the way I felt. It's been six years, and she's embedded so deeply under my skin nothing will ever get her out. I don't merely love her. I'm fucking obsessed with every single thing about her.

She runs through my mind on an endless loop. The sound of her laugh. The lightness in her eyes when she's happy. Her incredible voice. That fucking attitude. The shape of her ass, and the way she bristles like an angry kitten when I piss her off. She gets more perfect every damn day.

To her, I'm just Jessa's asshole brother. She doesn't know that she's the first thing I think about in the morning and my last thought at night. She doesn't know that I obsess over every picture she posts to social media…or that I attend every single one of her performances. Even if I have to trade shifts or call in favors, I'm always there, hiding in the back row.

She definitely doesn't know how hard she makes me, or how many times I've stroked my cock, thinking about her and the filthy shit I want to do to her. I haven't touched another woman since two years before I met her. I haven't even thought about one since the day I saw her for the first time. It's always her. Always. The shit I want to do to her would probably horrify her. I'm a rough, dirty bastard. For her, I'll be whatever she needs.

But I fucked up when I pushed her away and I'm running out of time to fix it. I'm at the end of my rope. When she leaves for Nashville, I want it to be at my side. If I can convince her to give me a chance, I'll follow her anywhere she wants to go. No one will ever love her harder or worship her better than I will.

"Are you coming home this weekend?" Jessa asks.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Oh."

I frown, not liking her tone. "Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing. I was just curious."

"Bullshit. Spill it, brat."

"You're such a bossy pants," she complains, making me smile again.

"And you're a shit liar."

"Fine," she huffs. "Jax got Gwen tickets to a charity benefit tonight, and I can't go with her."

"Why the fuck did Jax get her tickets?" I growl, scowling at my desk. Jax and I have never talked about it, but he knows Gwen is off-limits. Just like I know he has a thing for my sister. At least, I thought he did. But if he's buying tickets for Gwen, maybe the two of us do need to have a conversation. Because I will absolutely murder him and hide his body if he's trying to make a move on her. She's mine.

Just the thought of her with anyone else is enough to make me rabid with jealousy. Thank God she's always been too focused on music to date. I've killed for this country because it was my job. I'd kill for her because she's mine. I wouldn't regret it either. There's nothing civilized about the way I feel about her. No one touches her.

The one and only time someone put his hand on her around me, he lived to regret it. She was performing at a dive bar, and he thought it'd be cute to slap her ass. He stopped laughing when I broke his wrist and his nose. She still doesn't know it was me who started that fight.

"It's a long story," Jessa says.

"I got time."

"Cami Reynolds is performing. You know she's Gwen's idol. So Jax got her tickets as a favor to me, but like I said, I can't go. So Gwen is going to have to go alone unless…."

"You want me to go with her."

"Maybe?"

"Does she know you're calling me?" I ask, though I already know the answer to that question. Gwen would rather make a deal with the devil himself than ask me for a favor. Which I should be used to by now, but the realization still twists like a knife in my guts.

I'm so fucking gone over her, and there is no coming back. If I can't convince her to let me in, in three months, I lose her for good. She was made for the stage. It won't be long until the fuckers in Nashville know it too. She'll move on to bigger and better things…and I'll still be the motherfucker hiding out in the last row of every show in a ballcap pulled down low and a pair of glasses, obsessing over a curvy little princess who would rather set me on fire than speak to me.

I think Jessa knows my secret, but she hasn't told Gwen. I'm not sure if that's because she doesn't want to get involved, or if it's because she knows Gwen hates me and doesn't want to embarrass me.

"Maybe," Jessa says.

I snort, knowing damn well that means no.

"We're moving soon, Cyrus," she reminds me, as if I haven't had the date circled in red Sharpie since the day they told me. As if I don't dread it a little more every day. "This might be the last chance you get to bury the hatchet before she's a big star."

"I know," I growl.

"It'd mean a lot to her if you went tonight so she doesn't have to go alone."

As if I'm not already rearranging my plans for the weekend. Not that haunting this place all weekend was much of a plan to begin with. I drop down into my desk chair, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear while I unlock my desktop to fire off an email to Drew Hudson, the Staff Sergeant under my command. He owes me a favor for taking his last shift installing updates on the Sim—the most advanced flight simulator in the world.

"It's tonight?"

"Yes."

"What time?"

"At eight. Does this mean you're going?"

"Maybe."

Jessa squeals into the phone.

"Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Don't tell her," I say before I can talk myself out of it. If this is my last shot to break down her walls, I don't want her to see me coming. That'll only give her time to buttress the fuckers. I need her off-balance. It's the only way I'm going to get through to her, make her realize that the only reason she fights me as hard as she does is because she loves me too.

Christ, I hope she loves me too and I'm not just seeing things that are there. Because if she doesn't, I'm going to have to let her go. And I don't know how I'm supposed to survive watching her live her life without me. I don't think I will survive it. She's mine. She was mine long before it was right. If I go to hell for loving her, that's fine. I accepted long ago that I'm probably a bastard for loving her the way I do.

The thing is though…I don't give a fuck. Let people judge me. Let God damn me. Let the whole world gasp in horror. It won't change how I feel about her. Had I known the day I met her that opening my fucking mouth would put us here six years later, I would have fallen at her feet right then and there, consequences be damned.

She's mine. It's time she admitted it too.

"Promise you'll behave?" Jessa asks.

"Yes."

"I mean it, Cyrus. This is important to her. I haven't seen her this excited in a long time. If you guys end up fighting through the whole thing, she may never forgive you," Jessa warns me.

"We won't fight," I promise, hoping like hell it's one I'm able to keep.

 

 

"Jones!" I shout, lifting my hand into the air to flag down Darren Jones, the civilian director of the research facility here. He's down the hallway, talking to two of the AEDC scientists who have been running high-pressure tests on a NASA re-entry vehicle prototype in H1, an advanced performance arc heater.

Jones lifts his chin in acknowledgement and then says something to the scientists before jogging over to me. "They're almost finished for the day. Shouldn't be more than half an hour until we get H1 shut down."

"Good to know. How many of my men do you need this weekend?"

"You won't be here?" Jones arches a bushy brow, his surprise obvious. I have a house on base, but I'm rarely there. Except for trips home to Chattanooga, I spend most of my time running this place. And this isn't a nine-to-five type of gig. The only reason no one bitches about how often I go back to Chattanooga is because of how many hours I put in every other day of the fucking week.

I may not have nightmares every night now, but they still come often enough to keep me up most nights. So I catch a few hours of sleep, and then I'm right back here, catching up on all the shit I didn't get done during the day. It's the only thing that keeps me from sitting outside Gwen and Jessa's apartment like a goddamn creep.

"The Sim will be offline this weekend," Jones says. "Aside from security, we shouldn't need anyone else."

"Good deal. Hudson will be in charge this weekend. I've got some shit to take care of," I say, moving closer to the wall to let a group of researchers through. Jones is a big man, as wide as he is tall but solid all the way through. With him taking up half the hallway, there isn't a whole lot of room to maneuver.

"We'll be fine with Hudson." Jones shoots me an odd look. "Heard you were on your way out. That true?"

"Yep. Six months, and I'm done."

"Damn," he mutters, shaking his head. "You know what's next for you?"

"Not yet," I say instead of filling him in on my plan to follow Gwen until she gives up and lets me in. Some people would call it stalking. I call it taking care of what's mine. And she is mine, even if she isn't ready to admit it yet.

Jones nods. "You get to missing this place, give me a call. You know the Sim better than anyone. Never met anyone who didn't go to school for this shit who knows it like you do. We'll find a place for you."

"I've got some personal things to handle. Might take a while."

"The offer stands," he says, shrugging one broad shoulder. "Take whatever time you need once you're out. And when you're bored of sitting on your ass watching the fuckin' paint peel, call me. This place is liable to fall the fuck apart with you."

Shit. He ain't lying. Most people don't join the Air Force to babysit civilian researchers and scientists. They don't want to play in simulators. They want to be where the action is at. What they don't realize, though, is there's a price that comes with being in the thick of it. I've paid it for long enough. Besides, this is the place where the real action happens. Every aircraft they fly, every new piece of equipment set in front of them…the people here and at research facilities just like it designed it.

We blow shit up and burn shit down about eighty different ways, and we don't give up until what comes out the other side is capable of keeping those planes in the air and bringing our men home in one piece, whether they're going to war or going to space. Everyone from the Air Force to NASA benefits from the work done here.

It's long hours and enough red tape to give anyone a headache, but this shit is my bread and butter. When I was first stationed here, I was fucking thrilled, and not just because it's a stone's throw from Chattanooga, but because of the work they do here.

I knew early that this type of work was what I wanted to do with my life, but college wasn't an option for me. My dad died when Jessa was a kid, leaving my mom to raise the two of us alone. She couldn't afford to send me. I've taken a few classes over the years when I had the time, but most of what I know about engineering and aeronautical design, I learned on the fly.

There isn't another man in the Air Force more equipped to run this place than me. That's not me being cocky either. It's nothing but the truth, and that's exactly why I've been here for six years when no one else lasted one. But there's nothing I wouldn't give up or do for Gwen.

It's time to make her see it too.

"Thanks, brother," I say, holding out a fist for Darren to bump. "I'll definitely give you a call when my shit is handled."

"Good deal. Enjoy your weekend."

"You too."

He heads back down the hall, and I duck out of the building, heading to my truck. It's only an hour drive from here to Chattanooga, but I've got to pick up a suit along the way. And figure out how the hell to convince Gwen to give me a chance without fucking it all up like I usually do. Because one way or another, before the night ends, she's going to know just how obsessed with her I am. She's going to know she's mine.