She frowned, tilting her head at me before her eyes cleared and she glanced around the hallway. Nodding, she leaned forward, conspiratorially. “New rich orcfriend?” she asked, with a grin. “Don’t even worry about it. These guys spendcrazymoney on their mates. I just fulfilled an order for an orc who owns a construction business up north. I assume he was on the outs and it was an apology car, because she sent it right back, but—”
As the wordmatespenetrated my mind, it was as if her words trailed off into the ether. I couldn’t hear a single thing after that. There was no, single, possible, way that I was Krusk’smate.
That was too much. Too real. All too soon. Shaking my head with a firm movement that startled the gorgeous female in front of me, I held my hand out.
“No, it’s okay. Krusk is just a friend, but he found out about my… situation, I guess,” I responded, glancing around the corridor again and looking at it through her eyes. Dingy, stained carpet, chipping paint and severely scuffed doors. One of the numbers had fallen off of mine and it was a small miracle that she’d found me in the first place.
Swallowing hard, shame coated my insides and I wanted to sink into a puddle on the floor. “He’s just a nice guy,” I whispered, and I fought hard against the tears that were pooling in my eyes.
She narrowed her eyes at me and gave a firm shake of her head. “Oh no, you don’t,” she said, her voice like the crack of a whip. It shocked me enough that it stopped the tears that had been preparing to fall.
Suddenly, there was a finger in my face. “Don’t you even dare feel bad about living here.”
I blinked at her, my jaw dropped open, but she shooed me intomy own apartmentbefore closing the door and leaning against it. She crossed her arms, enhancing the amazing cleavage she sported, and released a long breath.
“If you think that I never lived in a place that looksexactly like this, then you’re damn wrong. But once in a while, you need help and you can’t be too stubborn or too stupid to accept it,” she blurted, her words soft but stern. “But he clearly has feelings for you and wants to help. If you’re the nice girl you seem to be, then sit him down, have a clear conversation about where you’re at and then see where things go. You’ll never know unless you take the chance.”
I swallowed hard as I licked my lips. “He keeps doing so much for me. And I… I really like him,” I admit, the words catching in my throat, because they weren’t the whole truth, before continuing, “but… I’m scared I’m letting him do too much.”
Her smile softened. “Sounds like a good problem to have,” she whispered, as if we were sharing a secret.
I laughed nervously. “You could definitely say that. It’s just… he’s always trying to fix things for me, make my life easier. And I… feel so much for him. I do. I just don’t want to end up taking advantage of him without realizing it.”
Her smile widened to a grin. “I know his clan, and he’s a good egg,” she explained, with a shrug. “That’s actually a really good fear to have. It means you care about him—not just the comfort he gives you.”
The fear clogging my throat almost didn’t let me speak. I wasfeeling things that were so far away from my norm—so earth-shatteringly real—that I didn’t know what to do. “I guess. But how do you tell where feelings end and dependence begins?”
I’d been through that before with my father, and I’d learned the hard way that when the support was pulled out from under you, you could crash hard into the concrete floor.
She hummed, thinking for a moment before she responded. “You look at effort. If he’s giving and you’re giving, too—not just gifts or help, but time, honesty, care—that’s balance. Love isn’t measured in favors, it’s in how equally both people show up.”
I didn’t comment on the word she was using. The L-word that I was pretending I wasn’t feeling. “Sometimes I feel guilty saying no when he offers something. It just looks like it hurts him, too. But I can’t… I can’t be that way with him. I don’t know if I can give him what he wants. He says it’s okay to be friends, but I’m not sure if that’s really enough for him.”
She crossed her arms, giving a thoughtful nod while we stood there in the dingy apartment staring at each other and having what felt like the deepest, most genuine conversation I’d ever had since my father passed.
“If he’s telling you that he just wants you in his life, then take him at his word at first. Then maybe try saying “thank you” with something that gives back—even if it’s small. Cook for him, write him a note, listen when he’s tired. It doesn’t have to be grand. Just let him know his care isn’t a one-way street. But don’t give him false hope either. Give him your truth. If you can’t do it, don’t keep stringing him along, okay?”
I nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, some of the panic in my chest leaving with it. “That makes sense. I just don’t want him to think I want to be friends with him because of what he does for me. I… he deserves more than that.”
She beamed at me. “Then tell him that. People who love honestly can handle honesty in return. Take care of each otherand you’ll be fine.”
I swiped at the tear that leaked down my cheek. “You give good advice for a stranger bringing me a car,” I told her with a laugh.
She pursed her lips before admitting, “I got help, too,” with a sheepish smile. “And I never regretted it.” She flashed the shiny ring on her finger and my eyes widened with understanding. “He’s a good male. Just like mine. See where things go. Don’t shut him down because you think he wants something back for what he’s giving you. I know those kinds of males. He’s not one of them.”
Swiping at the tear that fell downhercheek, she sniffled. “And now that we’ve sobbed all over each other, do you want to go see your new car?”
The laugh that left me was still a bit too wet for my peace of mind, so I nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
Her smile grew warmer. “Good. You’ll love all the features.”
My eyes went huge as we made our way down the chipped front stairs of my apartment building. Parked at the curb was the most ridiculous, beautiful car I’d ever seen. It was the kind of car that looked like it should come with a bodyguard and a theme song.
It was sleek midnight green, and the paint shimmered with a faint bronze undertone, like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be elegant or dangerous.
“The Thunderhoof Luxe 9000 Hybrid,” Molpe announced proudly, shimmying her shoulders a little. “Top of the line. As I mentioned, it hasallthe upgrades. Andallof the safety features,” she added quickly, as if that was what mattered most to me instead of, say, the fact that the thing looked capable of outracing a dragon. “He wasvery clearthat your safety camefirst.”
I circled it slowly, pretending to inspect the details while secretly trying not to hyperventilate. The interior was all leather and stitched runes—just like his. The kind of craftsmanship that whispered,expensive.
