Her soul and her willpower are hers because she’s oathed to a good alpha, but the truth is, Kenny could overtake either at any time. He never had with her, but she’d seen him do it with others — to wolves who didn’t follow the rules, or who put the pack in danger.
And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if the pack were in danger and she had information that would hurt their enemies and keep the pack safe, Kenny would command her to give it, and she’d have no choice in the matter.
Even if it meant Knife’s death or permanent imprisonment.
And she wasn’t lying to herself about what being part of a one-percenter club meant. Knife had smelled of the truth when he’d explained his nickname, but he undoubtedly had secrets. Probably things she wouldn’t approve of, and almost certainly things the justice system would frown on.
But in this moment, she didn’t fucking care.
She hadn’t the day before, either.
But math implies logic and science, and she was deep in the weeds of emotional math with this man, and had been since long before she’d driven through his gate yesterday, but it’d hit like a sledgehammer while he’d made fucking love to her, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm after denying her all damned day.
And now she was dealing with the space where emotional math and logical, practical math couldn’t possibly balance.
Because algebra is never going to work if you toss emotions into the equation.
He couldn’t be in a relationship with her, and she was in love with him.
And the only way around that was to figure out how to manage as much of a relationship as possible, which, based on what he’s said, meant he could fuck her, he just couldn’t go past fuckbuddies.
And if that was as good as it could get, she’d fight for it, because driving off the mountain and never coming back wasn’t an option.
He hadn’t seemed surprised when she told him she was blindsided by the emotions, so she kept going.
“I’ve been thinking about what this can be, and what it can’t.” She kept her voice level, the same voice she used with clients when she was about to tell them something they needed to hear clearly, like why their menu full of hard-to-source ingredients was a terrible idea. “My grandmother explained the rule about pack wolves and the MC. I understand why it exists. I didn’t know it when I agreed to yesterday, but I did when I drove through the gates. I thought it would be fine, that we could manage it, but…”
Something moved through his expression. Not surprise, but a kind of relief that looked almost like pain.
“So, an agreement,” she told him. “I won’t ask about your brothers or what the club does, and you don’t tell meanything. I can know about your family, specifics about your day that have nothing to do with club business beyond annoying customers and huge orders, and anything else not related to the club or your brothers, but your job is not to tell me anything that could harm the club, and my job is to not ask, and to be okay with not knowing.”
He was very still across the table. The stillness of an apex predator, but that was okay. It meant he was paying attention.
“Maybe we can have a standing date for every Monday I’m in town?” she asked, because she needed some feedback from him before she kept going.
A tiny nod, and then, “Okay.”
Too fast. Too easy.
She was about to tell him she needed more than a single-word answer, but he put his fork down and added, “So much of my life is tied up with my brothers, it means you’ll only get part of me. Can you live with that?”
The back of her throat tightened and her eyes burned, and she took a breath to get control because she’d already bawled in his arms. He seemed to think her tears the night before were a result of the long scene, and that was fine. He didn’t need to knowwhyshe’d cried.
It was a fair question, though, and deserved an honest answer. “Emotions are fickle things. Sitting here now, I’ll tell you I understand why we can’t jump in with both feet, so it’ll have to be enough — but I have no idea how I’ll feel about it three months from now.”
Okay, that last part wasn’t the absolute truth, because she knew she’d miss knowing the whole man, but it was her truth in that moment, because she desperately hoped this would be enough.
Another nod, and he said, “Standing arrangement. We’ll decide on when you’ll arrive based on your schedule, but I’m good with you arriving in time for breakfast and staying until breakfast Tuesday morning, if you have that much time.”
She smiled. “Yes, that works. And then the rest of the week, we can text and call. Keep up with each other. Friends do that.”
“Okay. No club secrets, not because I don’t trust you, but because of an established blood-bond you have no control over. I appreciate that you haven’t tried to make promises you can’t keep. Thank you for that. It makes me think maybe we can pull this off.”
His acknowledgment helped. This wasn’t his fault or her fault. It was just the facts of the matter. Fucking fate.
The weight of it settled over the table, and she lifted her fork, dipped some egg into the gravy, and took a bite.
Knife sliced off a bite of steak, slid it into his mouth, and her clit chose that moment to wake up andthrob.
