Otherwise, everything about her screams rage—she’s barely controlling it. Her arms are folded under her boobs, practically hanging out of a low-cut T-shirt that fits her like a second skin. The same goes for her jeans, which look like somebody painted them on her.We are really throwing everything we have at this problem, aren’t we?
That’s all fine and good.
But when she reaches out and strokes his arm? Oh, hell no. Now we’ve crossed a line.
If it wasn’t for the way he pulls back, out of her reach, my wolf might have no choice but to lose it a little. More than a little.Mate. Mine.It echoes in my head again and again while my hackles rise and my blood heats. She’s going to come here and try to convince him to have me killed?
“I need you to leave this up to me. Can you do that?” He’s closed off, short, obviously annoyed—and she sees it. When her face falls, it brings a satisfied smile to mine. He turns partly away from her, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. She actually has the nerve to reach up and touch his shoulder, which he shrugs to shake her free.Girl, give it up. He doesn’t want you.
When her chin trembles, I almost feel sorry for her. The split-second passes, though, when she looks up at the window I’m watching from.
She can’t see me, right? There’s no way she knows I’m standing here. The way she’s glaring at the glass, though? It’s chilling. She wants me dead. It’s written all over her face, burning in her blue eyes. I’ve never seen such complete hatred directed at me.
He waits until she’s walked down the dirt road leading from the cottage before his head tips back and he stares at the sky. Another pain in the ass. He might as well be holding up a sign broadcasting every thought. Finally, he turns toward the porch, and I scramble backward, fleeing for the kitchen table. I’ve barely made it back to my seat when he opens the door.
The corners of his mouth twitch when he spots me where he left me. “Right. I’m sure you did as you were told this time around. Are you turning over a new leaf?”
He wants to be a smart-ass? I was going to be nice and approach with caution, but forget it now. “Who was she? You should’ve told me you have a girlfriend.”
“I would, if I did. But since I don’t…” He scrubs his hands over his face, groaning. “It’s nothing. I took care of it.”
“Her.”
“Excuse me?” His hands drop from his face and land on his hips when he comes to a stop in the center of the living room.
“Her. You took care of her. Not it.”
“I don’t have the patience for this.” Since the rest of our food is cold now, he comes over and picks up his plate to take it to the sink.
“What’s her name?” I ask as I swivel in my chair to watch him.
“Do we have to do this?” When I answer by not answering, he shakes his head, his back to me. “Regina.”
“Ex?”
“She is not my ex. We’ve never seriously been together.”
That is the most carefully chosen statement I’ve ever heard. “So you’re saying it’s always been casual?”
“We were fuck buddies. Okay? Satisfied?”
Not really. I’m still not a huge fan of him being with anybody but me. I can’t help that. At least I know it wasn’t serious.
There are bigger problems, though, and he doesn’t seem to see them. “You were pretty cold toward her.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, little wolf.”
“I know you didn’t.” Holding my hands up, I pretend like I’m washing them. “Not my problem. But I wonder if she’s going to be a problem for you. Did you ever think maybe what you guys had meant more to her? It sure seems like it did.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He leans around me to grab my plate so he can rinse it, then leave it in the dishwasher. “Let it go. I have enough on my mind.”
Like I need to be told.
My heart sinks when I realize I have another day of sitting in a boring bedroom ahead of me. What I wouldn’t give for my phone, my iPad, or my laptop. I probably have a hundred notifications waiting for me, at least. I didn’t know how lucky I was to have pretty much any form of entertainment I could possibly want at my fingertips until it was all taken away.
He must catch me eyeing the bedroom warily. “You don’t have to stay in there today if you don’t want to. We could watchsomething on TV.” I wonder if he needs the distraction as much as I do.
I can’t help but pounce on the idea. “Sure. That would be great.” I don’t care what we watch, so long as it means doing something other than sitting and obsessing.
