Page 42 of Sight of Fate

I look at Macklin. “Can I go with you? I might be able to help.”

Approval shines in his eyes. “Let me give her a call in the morning. I’ll let you know what she says.” His gaze drops to my plate. “Do you not like the steak?”

Only about a quarter of it is gone. My face warms. “I do. It’s fantastic. Sorry. I’m not used to eating much.”

“How long have you been on your own?” Teague asks softly.

“Depends on how you look at it,” I say with a nonchalant smile. “My mom passed when I was sixteen.” I’ve never been able to say the word “died” out loud. Probably because she was murdered. “In college, I had a few friends. A close roommate.” Another murder.

“What happened?” Macklin asks in a low tone.

“She passed too,” I tell him, putting my fork down. My stomach cramps. “Is there a container I can put this in?” I stand and pick up my plate.

“Is that when you started living in your car?” Teague probes as Macklin gets up and takes the plate from me. He pulls out a glass container with a lid and places the steak into it.

“Lots of people my age live in their car,” I reply, brushing off the concern I see in his eyes. “It’s relatively safe, and it allowed me to save money on rent and travel.” My heart is racing a mile a minute.

Teague gets up and comes over to me. I tense, thinking he’s going to interrogate me some more, but he backs off. “Why don’t you have a seat while I help Macklin with the dishes? Then we can watch a movie.”

Macklin waves him off. “I’ve got it.”

“I’m not sure I’ll make it through a movie,” I reply with a yawn.

“MacKenzie, the healer, is concerned you might have a concussion. She doesn’t want you to stay by yourself tonight,” Teague relays to me. “Plus, she told me to wake you every few hours. Would you mind sleeping in my bed tonight?”

I still. With you?

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll take the couch.”

Better here than my place, since I sleep on my couch. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.” I have a hard enough time sleeping.

He takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom. “Why don’t we put a movie on, and when you’re asleep, I’ll leave?”

I take off my shoes and slide into bed. “Or you could stay.” After all, we slept together earlier.

“I’ll take every crumb.” He gets in and immediately tucks me into his side and hugs me tight. “It’s going to take me a while to get over today.”

Chapter Nineteen

CHARLI

Teague’s gone when I wake, but there’s an indent on the pillow beside me. I shove the hair back from my face and grab my phone. Six-thirty a.m. Still early. I close my eyes, but the sunlight coming through the window won’t let me go back to sleep. Yawning, I throw the covers off and make my way to the bathroom.

After taming my hair and using the restroom, I return to Teague’s bedroom to grab my shoes. Then I head into the living room. It’s empty. Am I the only one here?

Macklin’s deep chuckle has me spinning to the right. Through the patio doors, I watch as he and Teague do one push-up after another. Muscles flexing in their perfect forms, I watch the way they move. Confident. Precise. Clearly something they’ve done for a long time.

Macklin says something to Teague, who glares at him. The corners of my mouth twitch, but I stifle the laugh, not wanting them to know I’m watching. Macklin is wearing a black, sleeveless tank and shorts that show off his substantial biceps and thick muscular legs.

I turn to Teague. “My mate.” I test the words out on my tongue, kind of liking the bold claim. Shirtless, of course, his back glistens in the morning sun. I wipe the imaginary drool off my lips. They should both be illegal.

Shifting from one foot to the other, I try to imagine Teague and I together. His mouth on me, tasting and licking. My hands running over his body, pulling him into me. But every time I try, I see the two of us side by side and reality sets in. My stomach clenches as I imagine his look of horror, or worse, disgust. Shivering, I cross my arms and hug them to my chest.

Teague stops exercising and glances up. His eyes darkened to almost a slate grey, he crooks a finger.

Swallowing, I step out. “Good morning. I was going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

Teague mutters something I can’t quite hear, but Macklin shakes his head and hops up. Towering over me, he lifts my face to the light, turning it one way, then the other. “Should never have happened.” He pauses. “If it had been anybody else…”