Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 247: Wrong People, Wrong Place

He was afraid that if he let this moment slip, there might never be another chance to say it.

Mariella stood there, wind-tossed and stunned. "You want to be... one of my boyfriends?"

She replayed every conversation, trying to pinpoint exactly what she had done to create this misunderstanding.

Did she really come across that untamed?

Well. She did have a habit of running her mouth. Maybe she'd been a little too loose with her words, a little too playful in ways that probably caused this misunderstanding.

But it was only talk. She had never done anything to him.

If Kieran were standing here instead, she would have laughed, called him insane, and possibly landed a kick to his shin.

But this was Number One. Her most dependable man.

The quiet one. The steady one. The man who barely spoke unless he had to. And now he'd gone and dropped something like this on her, out of nowhere, leaving her temples throbbing.

Number One held her gaze, unblinking. His voice came out low and rough, threaded with something that sounded dangerously close to hurt. "I've been waiting. Waiting for you to notice me... to see what I'm worth. But you've been completely taken with Captain Zimmer. You don't even look at anyone else."

Back when Number Seven had led that convoy of condemned men in an assault on No. 98, he'd stood his ground against pressure, against persuasion, against every subtle push to break ranks. He'd thought that would be enough to make her understand that he was worthy of her trust. Of her.

She had rewarded him with extra supplies afterward, but nothing more.

So he waited. And waited. And what came instead was the announcement of her engagement to Chandler.

For him, it might as well have been a death sentence.

If he didn't do something now to turn the tide, then next time, she'd be announcing a wedding.

Mariella took a long moment to find her voice. "So let me understand this. You cut your patrol short today. Came back before five in the afternoon. Dragged your whole team home early. For this?"

Caught out, Number One's composure faltered. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking less like the unshakable soldier she knew. "We were going to be gone three, four days. I hadn't seen you. I was... worried. And I missed you."

He'd heard from Matthew that Mariella and Chandler had returned. The news had lit something in him, sharp and immediate. He'd called the job early, abandoned the woodcutting detail, and headed straight back to No. 98.

Because he needed to see her.

He had finally faced what was in his chest. But Mariella still hadn't, so he had to help her see it clearly.

Mariella's eye twitched. And just like that, pieces clicked into place. "So you've been circling me all night like a shark. Looking for the moment to say this."

No wonder every time she looked up, there he was. She'd chalked it up to coincidence.

Number One exhaled, the tension he'd been carrying for days finally slipping loose. His shoulders eased, but something restless still lingered beneath the surface.

"I saw Captain Zimmer get irritated just because you talked to Dr. Lester a little longer than usual." A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, like he knew he was crossing a line and chose to step over it anyway.

"If it were me, I wouldn't be that petty. Who you talk to is your business. What you do is your choice. I wouldn't interfere."

His stare burned into her. Now, his eyes seemed to say. Now you see it, don't you?

Mariella said nothing for a long beat.

Good God. In some strange, awful way, she and Number One were perfectly matched.

They both suffered from the delusion that they understood love better than the other.

Before she could answer, a low voice cut through the dark from somewhere to her left. "Oh? I didn't realize our Deputy Captain was this generous and understanding."

Both of them flinched. Their heads turned as one.

There, leaning against the shadow of a collapsed wall, stood a tall, powerfully built figure. Chandler.

Number One's expression tightened. Instinct kicked in. His hand twitched toward his sidearm before his training caught up with him.

No firing on teammates.

His fingers stalled at his waist, hovering awkwardly before he let them drop. He settled for watching, tense and wary, facing the man he considered his rival.

Mariella, for her part, marveled again at Chandler's talent for vanishing into silence. He was the only person she knew who could drift into her blind spot without her noticing.

It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last.

Luckily, he was her lover. Not her enemy.

Chandler crossed the distance in long, unhurried strides.

Without hesitation, he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her into him in a gesture that left no room for interpretation. Possessive. His gaze settled on Number One, sharp and unwelcoming. "She's my fiancée. You stood at our engagement party. You drank to us. And tonight, the moment my back is turned, you try to make a move on her?"

Number One didn't flinch. If anything, he seemed almost defiant. "You're engaged, not married. There's no paperwork tying you together. And even if there were, people get divorced. If she stops wanting you, she has every right to choose someone else."

Chandler's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Is that right? Someone else. Meaning you?"

Number One ignored him. His attention shifted back to Mariella, and something vulnerable flickered behind his dark eyes. Hope, maybe. He was waiting for her answer.

Mariella pressed her fingers to her temple. This had just become a problem.