Picking up another croissant, I took another bite while I considered it.
My phone vibrated again two minutes later. I sighed when I saw the message.
Maverick
Go home or I’ll carry you there myself
I held it out to Harper so she could read it.
“I’m glad you’re the one dealing with that constant intensity. I’d lose my mind.” She paused. “But considering my days are numbered, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for a week or two.”
“Your days aren’t numbered. Somehow, Velour is going to pull through.”
“That fucker ghosted us, and you know it.”
“I don’t.”
“Bloom.” Harper patted my knee lightly. “I love you, but you need to start trying to wrap your mind around the fact that the end is coming for me.”
“I’m never going to?—”
The door to my office opened again. When the scent of fresh vanilla met my nose, I was on my feet in a heartbeat. “Fine, I’m leaving.”
Maverick held the door open for me and Harper while we shuffled out.
I forgot my shoes, but I didn’t tell him that.
“There’s a car waiting for you out front. Same driver as before. Don’t try to walk home,” Maverick ordered.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” I countered.
“They have. My ego actually grows every time I hear it.”
I bit back a grin.
He walked us to the elevator, plucking a chunk of croissant off the shoulder of the gigantic sweater he’d left me yesterday morning as I pressed the button to call it.
“If you eat that, I swear—” I began.
He tossed it into a trash can nearby. “Your clean laundry is in a basket in the car. The only scent on it should be mine. If you smell anyone else, don’t touch it.”
“Why would that be concerning?”
“It would be tampered with.”
“Why would someone tamper with my laundry, and what could they do to it?” I wondered.
“You’re adorably innocent.”
He had no idea that I was using him for blood and other attempted (though mostly failing) badassery.
I wasn’t going to keep questioning him. Not only was it a little risky for me, but I was going to be trapped alone in a car with the Alpha for a four-hour drive soon. I needed to save my stubbornness for the trip.
It would really help if I could feed, but that obviously wasn’t happening. Thursday nights were the only gathering nights every week, and we were leaving.
I reached a hand up to my bun, wincing as I felt the stiff strands that may as well have been made of dry shampoo at that point. “I should’ve gone home to wash this sooner.”
“You have questionable hygiene,” Harper agreed.
