Free In Control by Michelle Robbins

the feeling.
    Zach gathered his thoughts. "I'm here about yesterday."
    "So you said."
    He hadn't expected she'd make this easy for him. "I'm here to make things right."
    She stared at him, her eyes widened and mouth agape, as though he'd transformed into one of those desert vipers occasionally encountered in 'Stan. An unpleasant situation for everyone involved, including the snake.
    She eventually managed to find language again and gasped, "Excuse me?"
    "You heard me."
    "This a joke?"
    "No."
    Suddenly enraged, she slammed down the remote control. A cluster of used flatware clinked a protest against dirty plates and bowls. Her pretty mouth twisted into an impressive snarl. "Get the fuck out of here."
    He'd seen less scary battle-faces on the Marines of his fire team. "I know you're angry, but hear me out."
    "I've heard enough. Leave."
    She grabbed up the remote control again and returned to switching channels. He was certain she had nothing in mind but to appear supremely disinterested in whatever he had to say. She'd probably wear that mask to the very end unless he forced a change, no matter what lived in her heart--as provided by the T-shirt's presence.
    He sighed and pushed to his feet. His leg winced, but he ignored it and moved between her and the TV. He took a seat on the coffee table, having to push aside some crap to do so. He plucked the remote from her hand, hit the off button, and tossed it to the floor.
    "Hey!" she yelped.
    The TV went silent behind him. "I said we're gonna talk."
    "We did. It's done."
    "That was a monologue. Now you and I will exchange thoughts instead of sparring. We'll communicate with each other."
    It was impossible to ignore the fact she'd straightened away from him, moving as far out of reach as she could get without surrendering her seat. It wasn't revulsion, if he was any judge of the way her eyes had dilated. Brave as she was, she would hold her position and conceal her fear. She didn't trust close quarters. With what he'd heard, he could understand that. But sitting here probably did nothing but extend her anxiety. Get to it, Roberson.
    "My actions last night were regrettable." She choked, but he plowed on before she unleashed the tempest coloring her cheeks a fiery red. "They were based on misinformation and bad intelligence."
    He stopped and waited. Eventually, she realized he was waiting for a response. She gave one, but not one he appreciated. Her upper lip curled in that impressive Annabel snarl.
    "That's your idea of an apology?" she scorned.
    Well, yeah, it was, and it was the best she would be getting. "I'm a Marine and a dominant man. I don't apologize for choices I make, but...I will allow that behavior and actions based on bad intel are rarely productive."
    She stared at him, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.
    Zach forced himself not to squirm. Enough time passed for him to realize she was struggling too hard to come to grips with the situation to speak. Again it fell to him, but what did he expect? He was the man, the Marine, who'd fucked up.
    He passed a hand over his used-to-be-crew cut hair and huffed a sigh. "Look. I know I've done damage and you need help. I want to make it right. Will you let me do that?"
    She offered a prideful sniff and looked away. "What makes you think I need help?"
    He reached for her chin. At the contact, she jumped and flinched, making a sound like a puff adder's warning hiss. He didn't pull away. In fact, he curved his palm around her cheek and tried his best to radiate calm and reassurance, while Annabel held herself stiff, clearly uncomfortable and wary.
    "That's what makes me believe you're not fine."
    She tossed her head, the action not coincidentally pulling her face away from his hand. "You're such an ass. Even if there was a problem, and there's not, what makes you think you can fix this "--her fingers curled in the ubiquitous gesture of air quotes--"when your hands are all over the so-called problem?"
    He reached down, grabbed up