“Holy shit,” I whisper and lean forward over my clasped hands. “He’s here.” Thorne, not Keiran. Fuck Keiran. If I saw him I’d try to throw my very first punch. My wolf snaps her teeth in agreement. She’s upset she hasn’t tasted his blood yet, which,no thanksbut I do appreciate her sentiment.
A few minutes pass before Thorne enters my cottage again. He locks the back door from the faint snick that I hear. “He’s long gone,” he says when he walks back into the living room and goes to the front door. For a wild second, I think he’s going to leave me now that he’s sure Keiran is gone.
I leap up to my feet. “Where are you going?” I sound desperate. Oh, how I’d hate sounding that way if it was anyone else but him. Thorne locks the door and I realize he’s not going where.
“Nowhere.”
“Oh.”
“You thought I was leaving?”
I wrap an arm around myself and shrug. “Maybe.”
“Why would I do that? You know how long I ran to get to you?”
I blush at his words. “You ran to get here?”
“Had to. We were well on our way.”
Oh no. The patrol.
“You came off patrol for me?”
He nods. “I did.”
“Why?”
He opens his mouth to answer me but stops himself. A dark look passes over his face, it’s just a flash before it’s gone again. “I just did,” he says and his voice is gruff. No sign of the alpha that told me he missed me now.
Interesting.
“You’re real hot and cold,” I tell him. It’s probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever said to him or any alpha for the matter but I don’t really care. I don’t understand him, or us, or any of this. Why do I want him so bad it hurts? Right now, if this man were to walk out of this room I don’t think I’d be able to breathe right.
I lift my chin and keep talking. “I’m not smart enough to know what’s going on between us, but I do know there’s something going on.”
Thorne sucks in a sharp breath when I say that. I’m right. We both know I am. I wait for him to say something. Anything.
“You’re right.”
I wait for him to say something else but the alpha doesn’t look like he’s going to. Instead, I walk past him to my stove where my tea kettle is still half-filled with water. “You want some tea?”
“If you make it, I want it.”
“Good answer.” I turn on the stove and get out another mug for his tea. He’s getting chamomile. Something to mellow us both out will be good, I think. I refresh my own cup, too. I leftmy mug on the counter earlier when I was looking through the kitchen window. Behind me, I hear Thorne leave the front door and take a seat on my couch. It creaks when he sits on it. It’s not the biggest couch, more a loveseat than anything and no doubt he’s made it look like doll furniture. I peek over my shoulder at him, yup. Freaking doll furniture. Thorne sits in the middle of the couch and looks uncomfortable.
I hide my smile when I turn back to the now whistling kettle. “Comfy?” I ask him.
“Not really. Feel like I’m about to snap this thing in half,” he says and then I hear him move off the couch and onto the floor.
“The floor?” I ask him, bringing our mugs of tea into the living room.
Thorne shrugs and leans back against the couch. It creaks in protest just from him leaning on it but he ignores it to look up at me. “It’s either this or I embarrass myself by breaking your sofa in two. You pick but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. This whole scenario is silly, even more so when I think about how half an hour ago I was pacing my house with my frying pan in hand. Speaking of…I turn to look for it. It’s over by the door. Shoot.
“Get up off the floor, we can sit on my bed,” I tell him and walk over to give the frying pan a little kick to get it out of the way.
Thorne gets up and follows me into my bedroom. “You were going to take him out with the pan?” he asks. He sounds surprised but I hear pleasure there too. He’s glad I was going to do it.
