“Yeah, stay away from Heath’s fangs,” he drawls.
“Why are we friends?”
“You love me and need me.”
“I suppose there are benefits.” I take off my shirt and move to the side of the bed, placing the phone on the side table. “Should I keep our connection a secret?” Shade delves into everyone's lives, yet his secrets are closely guarded.
“Doesn’t matter. It might be common ground with a few of them. The family is a unit. You need to get on their good side, which, it sounds like, you already did. Protecting the family is a good start,” he points out and I pull back the covers and take off my pants. “Rylee is special,” he says softly.
“What do you know?”
“Can’t tell you that.”
“Yeah, probably shouldn’t,” I sigh, easing onto the mattress. “Thanks for everything. Let me know what else you find out. I wouldn’t mind making another body evaporate.”
“I’ll look deep.”
“Appreciate it.”
“If you have a chance, ask Sally how the pregnancy is going. She is going to be a rocking Mom. The baby is going to be a hellion.”
“Shit, goodnight, Shade.” I roll and end the call.
My friend spends too much time behind his computer and does not live his life. He seems happy as shit doing it though. He has more of a social life than I do. He’s spoken before about some of the names he mentioned. Roxanne is a rabbit shifter and a friend of his. I know she has seen him in person and has occasionally spent time with him. I’m not sure how she’s connected to the family here. Rylee is in the mix of an interesting dynamic.
My eyes are heavy, and my body needs to heal. I will dream of soon being able to fall asleep next to my mate. I can’t rush her, but I don’t know how long I can take not being close to her. If I have to beg to sleep on the couch, I will. She mentioned my patience, but everyone has their limit.
We will see what happens when I reach mine.
Chapter Seven
Rylee
My bedroom floor is covered with discarded clothes. I’ve changed numerous times, and nothing has felt right. After Ezra left, I spent some time with my plastic buddy, and it only made me more frustrated that it wasn’t him. I’m not ready to sleep with him, but my body desperately wants him. My mind has to catch up. The heat is fucking with me. My skin itches without him near. I’m wet all the time. My dreams were filled with his face, his hands, and his sexy mouth. The barely therekiss at the door was sexier than anything I’ve experienced. I’ve never desired a man just by being in the room with him. Ezra has changed everything. He makes me feel delicate, needed, safe, and respected. The most important fact is, I feel. I have taken control of my life after the hell I went through, yet I always have more work to do. My short relationships since haven’t moved me to discover the depth of a man. I’m curious about my mate. I want to know what makes him tick. Why did he choose the profession he did?
I trip over the ties of a sundress and give up. Sitting on the floor, I look around at the destruction. I am not this person. I don’t struggle with finding the perfect outfit for a man. I hate mess and clutter. I’ve been awake since six. Picking out clothes has wasted an hour. Sliding my phone out of my pajama shorts, I stare at his number for the millionth time. I don’t know where we are going or what we are doing. I’ve thought about messaging him, but can’t make myself do it. My anxiety is working through me, and it pisses me off. Yes, he’s important. I want to have a loving relationship like everyone else, but I didn’t think it was possible for me. I know I’m not damaged. The men who abused me are dead. They got what they deserved, and I fucking deserve a life with love. Ezra could be the perfect man to give me what I need.
He was hurt. I know it affected him more than he admitted. I’ve regretted sending him away. What if he can’t get out of bed this morning? What kind of pain is he going through? The strength it took him to act as if everything were normal is impressive. Maybe I should call just to see if he’s better.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whisper, pressing my phone to my forehead. “I killed a man. I can spend the day with my mate without having a meltdown.” Why am I messed up about this? My confidence took a huge hit when I was younger, but I thought I gained it back in the years that followed. The menI’ve been with since have been carefully selected. This means something. Ezra is important. He could be mine.
Shit. We could belong to each other forever.
I tap my phone on my head. It rings as it connects, and I squeal, dropping it to the floor. I blink. He’s calling. I exhale slowly, pick it up, and clear my throat.
“Ezra,” I answer.
“Morning, baby,” he says, and I press my hand to my middle. I have butterflies swarming in my stomach. “How did you sleep?”
“Good. Really good.” I lick my lips, remembering the fantasy he starred in. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Back to normal.”
“I’m relieved,” I sigh.
“I was hoping you were awake. I had an idea, so I talked to Heath.”
“You did? I didn’t know you had his number.”
