Free Hearts Under Siege by Natalie J. Damschroder

knew how she felt, and for how long she’d felt that way, it would be even worse. He’d think he was leading her on, and would hasten to explain that the sex had been cathartic, releasing of emotions he couldn’t handle any other way. That he was oh-so-grateful to her for letting herself be used, but it would never happen again.
    If she didn’t handle it right, he’d send her away. He would think the distance important for both of them, especially if she protested. Brady had that sexist streak that was built into every guy. He’d believe that just because they’d had sex, she would think she was in love with him, and if they stayed away from each other, the feelings would go away.
    She snorted softly. What a blow it would be to his ego if she told him the sex hadn’t been good enough to inspire the illusion of love. Okay, sure, she’d had a pretty damned good orgasm, and the arousal had been real enough. But the whole time, her brain had kept up a running commentary about how this was all grief with a side helping of adrenaline, and would change nothing between them. Not the way she wished it could.
    So the morning would be awkward and uncomfortable in a way their relationship had never been, not even that Christmas when she heard him kiss Jessica in the back hall. She’d already known about his feelings for his now sister-in-law, and he hadn’t harbored any guilt for doing what he’d felt he had to do. He’d told Molly that at least it was all out in the open and he never had to wonder or hope.
    Of course, after that, he’d distanced himself from his entire family, including her, but still.
    Hell. This was going to be much more acutely painful.
    Eventually he released her and rolled onto his back, and she pulled on her tank and shorts before trying again to sleep. But as she started to drift off, he jerked, muttering something, and it startled her awake. He flailed and growled in an obvious nightmare. She shifted up on the bed and tried to soothe him back into restful sleep, smoothing his hair off his forehead and putting a hand on his chest, murmuring in his ear, even singing. Nothing worked until she cradled his head against her chest. He rolled toward her, nuzzled, and then , of course, subsided into normal sleep again. And she spent at least the next hour trying not to think about his mouth so close to her nipple.
    She managed to drift off half an hour before dawn, not really sleeping, but semi-lucid, dreaming about Brady waking her with lovemaking, this time tender and caring and about them rather than about…other stuff. But she knew it wasn’t real, wasn’t going to happen, and when her watch alarm beeped, she’d been waiting for it.
    Might as well grab another shower. She needed it after…well, after the thing that didn’t happen. That was how she was going to have to handle it. Cut Brady off before he got to say anything at all. He’d get the message. He was smart, and it would be what he really wanted, anyway. She swung her legs out of the bed and tried to sit up.
    “O- ohh .” Cramps rippled up her back and down her legs, even around her sides. The moan of pain reversed to an indrawn hiss. Every muscle in her body was stiff, proving that training and real fighting were not the same thing. Layer tension on top of that, plus the…thing that hadn’t happened, and she was lucky to stand.
    “Holy shit,” she breathed, wincing as she rolled her shoulders and hobbled to the bathroom.
    This shower was the second best she’d ever experienced. Slowly, her muscles loosened with the warm water and stretching, and after she felt halfway normal, she climbed out and got dressed while she worked at putting on a mask of normalcy and shoving every single emotion into a box. A steel box. With no opening. Just solid steel riveted right around her heart. She sealed it by running through a mental to-do list. Six times.
    Then she was ready to face the other side of that bathroom door. She took a steadying