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Instead, he said, “Dragons don’t associate with other supernaturals outside the prison. I’m in deep shit with my thunder for making an illegal deal with Bash and his brothers. What makes you think you know what to expect from me?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said, though I was suddenly questioning my way of thinking.
He opened the bathroom door wider. “I’ve never been in close contact with a human woman other than my sister for more than a few minutes, Fireball. I’m not in the habit of asking pointless questions. I asked because I didn’t know.”
After a long moment, August finally released the door and stepped back.
Guilt rolled through me as he shut the door behind himself, turning the lock as it closed.
I’d assumed the worst.
And maybe I shouldn’t have.
He hadn’t done anything to make me think he was cocky, after all. He didn’t seem self-conscious, but that didn’t necessarily make him full of himself. He could potentially just be confident.
And while he didn’t seem very nice, that didn’t make him an asshole. He hadn’t done anything rude or even really wrong. Our situation seemed just as shitty for him as it was for me.
So… maybe I needed to wait until I knew a little more about him to figure out what kind of guy he was.
And I probably needed to apologize.
I dried off and pulled his clothes on.
The boxers were too big, but I got them to stay up when I rolled the waistband a few times. The basketball shorts were a lost cause. No amount of rolling made them fit. His shirt hung nearly to my knees, so I tied it in an unattractive knot at my hips, where it met the boxers.
My hair felt like straw, so a grimace pulled at my lips as I started detangling it with my fingers.
Shitty hair, along with apologies.
Not to mention the uncomfortable soreness and warmth caused by heat.
And the abduction of sorts after I tried to help some girl out in front of a coffee shop.
It was a great day.
three
AUGUST
“Stop pacing and get out here,” Brynn called through the front door. She and Bash were still on the front porch, and off their phones for the first time in twenty minutes.
They were organizing things for me.
Furniture.
Food.
Shampoo.
All the shit my instincts screamed that I should’ve provided for my mate.
And I really needed to stop thinking about her as mine.
Elodie.
Her name was lyrical. It didn’t fit the fire I’d seen from her.
It took more control than I ever would’ve imagined to keep myself from breaking into that bathroom while she was showering. Not to see her naked—though I wanted that too. Badly. Painfully badly.
