Page 12 of Crimson Heart

His last words were more meant for himself than for Charlie. Surely, he could keep this thing between them casual, even if they spent more time together. They were adults, and there didn’t have to be anything between them other than good sex.

She didn’t respond immediately, her forehead furrowing.

“I mean, you did say I could buy you a coffee in the morning,” he remembered suddenly.

“I did, didn’t I?” she said after a long moment.

Why did she have to think about this for longer than a second? It brought up another question.

“Charlie, is there somebody in your life? I mean, are you with somebody? Is that why you hesitated? If you’ve changed your mind, I’d understand…” Though he would be disappointed.

“I haven’t changed my mind. I want to stay the night,” she said, far too quickly. “It’s just that my parents arranged a match for me.”

He knew that arranged matings were still a thing in the werewolf society. “Oh. You feel guilty about sleeping with me?”

“No, not for a second.”

Why that response pleased him to no end, he didn’t want to examine.

“Wanna talk about it, stranger to stranger?”

She nodded slowly.

“Have you met him yet?”

“Yes, yesterday. His handshake alone gave me the creeps. I can’t imagine letting him touch me.”

He noticed the tiny hairs on her arm standing up and gently caressed her.

“I’m sorry. Have you told your parents that you don’t want to mate with him?”

“Yep. But they wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Stubborn, huh?”

“You have no idea. That’s why I just left without a word and came to San Francisco.”

“Do they know you’re here?”

“No, I haven’t used my credit card, so I’ll be okay for a few days.”

“So they can’t track you. Good idea. What’s your plan going forward?”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug, her hand tracing his chest muscles.

“Let’s not talk about that now. It just makes me angry.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling oddly protective of her.

“Did you just move into this apartment?” she asked, lifting her hand. “I mean, it looks a little bare. Uhm, unless that’s your style: minimalistic.”

“Nice save!” he said with a chuckle and a quick, but gentle, slap on her ass. “It’s not really my flat. My brother owned it. But he died.”

Murdered. But that wasn’t something he wanted to burden Charlie with.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I use it as a pied-à-terre to get away from my family when they get too overbearing. I normally live out in the country. I could never live in the city for good.”