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"You weren't going to call me, were you?"
"Was I supposed to?"
Silence, then a rustle, as if he'd brushed against the door. Walking away? No, I could still sense him hovering, the anger vibes muted but clear.
"You won't ask for my help."
"I don't need--"
"Of course you don't."
I picked a plain T-shirt and yanked it on. "I can handle--"
"Of course you can. The fact that you're about to do a potentially difficult and dangerous break-in and you have a professional thief nearby to offer advice is irrelevant, isn't it? Because you can handle it, and you sure as hell aren't going to ask me for help."
I realized then he was offering to help with the break-in, not insinuating I couldn't make the decision about telling Benicio on my own. Which, in this case, I couldn't...but I didn't need him knowing that.
"I'm sure the gang can handle--" I began.
"In L.A., you encouraged Jeremy to call me for help on a break-in."
"Because he should. He's your Alpha."
"You wouldn't call yourself, would you?"
I passed over the skirt options and tugged on jeans, then opened the door. He was right there, so close I was surprised he didn't fall in.
"I did call you about that," I said.
"For advice, not help. I offered help and you refused, putting the onus on me to come down to L.A. and watch over you."
"You said you came to watch over Jeremy."
He didn't answer.
"Let me get this straight. You don't want to help me. You don't want to watch my back. But now you're complaining because I never ask you to?"
"It's not that I don't want to help. I don't want to want to."
I brushed past him. "For a man whose best weapon is words, you're either having a really bad day or you're talking circles around me."
I sat on the sofa and looked back to see him still by the bedroom door.
"When I was in Europe, you wouldn't have called me, would you? Wouldn't have called after I got home. If I didn't take the first step, you would have just...left things."
"You walked away, Karl. Was I supposed to chase after you? If a guy dumps me, I don't try to change his mind. I have more self-respect than that."
"I didn't dump--"
"You told me to date other guys!"
"I was--" He shook his head and strode into the living room. "Whatever circumstances I leave under--good or bad--it's always up to me to make contact again."
"I give you space and you're complaining? The guy who made it clear from the start that this relationship--if we can call it that and really, you'd rather we didn't--"
"That's--"
"Unfair? Maybe it is and, if so, I apologize. The point is that you made it clear you were in charge, that all contact would be under your conditions. It took almost a year for you to give me your phone number."
