“Are you saying you’re a dog?” I ask, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
“No, but I spend time as a wolf and know how they think.”
“Uh-huh.” I set the guitar aside, watching as he begins setting up the cot.
I pull my knees up to my chest and wonder how to convince him not to do the gentlemanly thing and take the cot for himself. The metal frame and thin mattress won’t be comfortable for anyone, but at least I can fit on the thing without my feet or shoulders hanging off.
Or we could just share the bed… Is there a platonic way to share a bed with your mate? Doubtful. Do I want to platonically share a bed with Harper? That’s looking pretty doubtful, too.
I offer him a smile when he finishes with the cot. “Thanks for the guitar.”
“No big deal. I promised to do what I could to help.”
“Well, it feels right.”
Unlike this little dance we’re doing now. He’s standing there like he doesn’t know whether to sit down beside me or maintain his distance. The space between us feels charged, like we’re both waiting for the other to make a move, but neither of us knows the right steps to this particular dance.
“Glad I could help.” Harper takes a half-step toward the bed, then stops himself, hovering awkwardly in the middle of the room. He turns and glances at the cot, then he scowls, since it’s not the most appealing choice.
Might as well address the elephant in the room.
“Look, if we’re spending the night together…”
“We’re just going to be in the same room, Dodger. I’ll be on the cot. Like before, with one less wall.”
“Whatever,” I huff. “While we’re sharing a room, we should probably talk about the whole ‘mates’ thing sometime. You haven’t said much about that.”
Harper goes still, a werewolf statue in the middle of the room. “You weren’t very receptive to the idea,” he says carefully.
Wow, called out immediately. “I was surprised! Learning about a mate is a huge revelation.” I shake my head, feeling defensive. “Bet I was the last person you were expecting, right? Did you ever expect to end up with a necromancer?”
His head shakes, just once. “That’s true.”
Oh crap. Why did I have to bring that up now? I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“To tell you the truth,” he says slowly, slow enough that I finally have to look up and meet his even stare. “The age difference was what really threw me for a loop.”
I blink at him. “Because you’re a dirty old wolf robbing the cradle?”
He snorts. “Because you’re a punk who’s barely old enough to drink.”
“Hey! I’m twenty-one.”
“Like I said.” Harper smirks.“Barelyable to drink.”
“Okay, so we both had some surprises. I needed a minute to adjust.”
Harper takes a step closer, his expression unreadable. “What are you saying? Have you... adjusted?”
I fiddle with my guitar pick, trying to organize my thoughts. “It’s still kinda hard to wrap my head around.” Too big for a guy running for his life who’s just starting to figure out his powers. All I know is that using the guitar feels way more right than the whip ever did. And trying to push him away never feelsgood. Maybe I should stop. “But if you don’t mind taking it one step at a time...”
Harper moves closer, the bed dipping slightly as he finally sits down beside me. “Don’t mind at all,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth has become.
We drift closer until our lips meet in a slow kiss. Slow and gentle isn’t really my jam, but the way Harper does it has me going hot all over. His tongue slides in and traces over every inch of my mouth, and his stubble scrapes against my skin in the best way. He holds my face so tenderly in one large hand, though I also wonder what he could do if he grabbed my hair and yanked.
I lean into him, my guitar pick falling forgotten onto the bedspread as my hands find purchase on his shoulders. Harper’s thumb traces my jawline as his other hand finds the small of my back, drawing me closer.
