Adele
I’m not upset, I tell myself as I pace back and forth through the house. It’s fine.
I’m not mad Rafe rushed back to his home to do his mission and help his brother. And there’s no reason for me to be worried. His work is dangerous, but he can handle it. He’s an adrenaline type person. I keep imagining him on his missions, as cool and in control as he is in normal, everyday life. Delivering commands like he’s ordering a burger.
Of course, in my daydreams, he’s never wearing more than camo fatigues and work boots. Maybe he has a bullet bandolier strapped across his chest, aka Rambo-style, but mostly he’s just topless, his awesome pecs and abs flexed and flecked with sweat. Every muscle on him honed to perfection by Mission Impossible stunts, necessity rather than vanity at the gym.
