My face flushes, thinking he means what happened with Connor, then my stomach sinks when I realize he means Nolan. Connor mentioned that he texted Donovan to go check on him. I ignore the small pang of jealousy that Nolan let Donovan stay when he shouted at me to go.
It’s my fault. No one wants the person that violated their trust to stick around.
“What did Nolan say?” I ask, looking down at my hands as I fanfold the ends of the pale blue scarf tied around my neck, my clothes a donation by one of the female pack members. I’m afraid Donovan is going to think less of me because of what happened.
“He told me to fuck off,” he answers bluntly, the leather of the steering wheel creaking under the force of Donovan’s grip. “I said no and spent most of the night trying to get the asshole to open the damn bathroom door. What the fuck happened?”
It should take some of the sting out knowing Donovan was stonewalled like I was, but instead, I feel a combination of worry and guilt, the two mixing uncomfortably in my belly. Nolan deserves someone to help him through what I triggered within him, and I don’t like the idea that he’s been lost within it alone.
I try to find the words to articulate what happened the night before, and the memories of the compromising position I put us in fills my head. My heart rate picks up speed, heat from my cheeks spreads down my neck, and an embarrassing amount of sweat builds along my hairline. Somehow I doubt Donovan will let me get away with me telling him it’s private.
Unable to look at him, I confess to the passenger side window in a rapid-fire burst that would make even Felix concerned. “While-he-was-feeding-from-me-I-accidentally-magicked-our-clothes-away.”
“You magicked your clothes away?” he echoes slowly for clarification.
I bury my face into my hands and start thinking of getting a vacation home among the mole people. Great locale for every time I do something immensely stupid and/or embarrassing.
Stuttering over my words, I answer, “Yes. We were… It was… more intense than normal and… my magic, sort of, well… responded to that.”
By the goddess, kill me now.
Peeking up through my fingers, I watch Donovan shake his head while a wry smile twists up the corner of his mouth. “You’re telling me you two got hot and heavy, became magically naked, and instead of enjoying the hell out of it like a normal person, he freaked the fuck out?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I defend, removing my hands from my face to cross my arms, and then I glare at his obnoxiously attractive profile. “He had every right to respond the way he did.” My voice thickens as I finish, “I violated his trust.”
“It wasn’t like you did it on purpose,” he counters, shooting me a quick, pointed look. “He has shit he needs to fucking deal with and not take it out on you.”
Huffing in a way that implies we’ll have to agree to disagree, I stare out the windshield, seeing but not really absorbing the winter foliage lining the highway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Donovan flash me a lazy smile and announce, “Angel, you can magic away my clothes anytime. I have nothing to hide.” His smile grows. “Especially if you’re going to join me.”
I give up on trying to understand why he decided his pet name for me should be the same as the celestial beings he detests. The name is always colored with fondness, and sometimes exasperation, but never malice. His statement does, however, bring up a matter that I decided to resolve. Being with Connor made me realize that I can’t hide my feelings anymore, and I don’t want to. In regard to the guys, this nebulous gray we’ve existed in doesn’t work for me anymore. I’ve learned I’m not really a‘go with the flow’kind of girl. I like clarity, boundaries, and knowing what’s expected of me.
“Callie, it was a joke,” Donovan explains as I remain silent, unaware of my mind racing a mile a minute. “Well, mostly a joke. If you’re down, I’m always—”
“Are we dating?” I interrupt, the thought blurting out of my mouth.
He frowns, his earlier teasing expression evaporating from his features. His voice is low and gruff as he asks, “Do you want to date?”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest, worried that it’s about to be crushed. Honestly, I answer, “Yes. I can’t be ambiguous anymore. I need to know what we are.”
Donovan sighs and pulls over, the dead, wet leaves on the ground muting the sound of the truck’s tires. When he turns the engine off, the world is quiet, and suddenly, the truck’s cab feels too small. He’s silent far longer than what is normal for him, looking out the windshield like the road ahead holds the correct words. A knot of fear twists painfully inside me, and my mouth goes dry. He said he loved me, but maybe that was just in the moment. Well, he actually said he thought he might be in love with me… or falling in love with me.Damn it, I can’t remember!
Lost in my own head, I’m startled when he releases a controlled breath and begins, “I’m not like the other guys. There are things about me you have to understand before we could be anything… more.”
“I’m listening,” I murmur, scared because he’s normally so blunt, and I’m confused about where this could possibly be going.
“There’s a reason I only do casual hookups. It’s cleaner than dealing with the disappointment of when they figure out they can’t fix me.” He turns and levels his piercing aqua eyes on me. “I’m not broken.”
“I know that,” I assure him. My fingers are desperate to reach out and touch him, but I’m unsure if it would be a welcomed action. Instead, I keep my hands in my lap, running the soft fabric of the scarf against my palms.
He nods. His gaze continues to pin mine down, making it impossible to look away. He swallows heavily. “I don’t do… romance. God damn, that sounds so fucking stupid to say.” He sighs and pushes forward. “Look, all that warm and fuzzy shit, I don’t think it, feel it, or want much to do with it.”
My features bunch in confusion, and I’m even more lost on why he’s making this speech. I tilt my head to one side. “Yeah, I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he argues, frustration infusing his voice. He runs his hand through his short black hair. “I will never feel that way. No matter how much I care about you, it won’t be the same as how you feel about me. You can’t love me into being something different. Can you handle that?”
Can I handle that? Me? The girl he literally taught to look at herself as not broken? He thinks I’d try to fix him? Roaring indignation howls in my ears, and I furiously get my seat belt off so I can fully turn toward him. “Donovan Alvarez, have I ever asked you to be anything other than what you are?”
