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Once she was fully conscious, she regretted her irrational impulse. She shouldn’t want a dark stranger as much as she did and she felt guilty for being drawn to him.
Just like she tried to ignore how much that man from Mugs had affected her.
That morning, Evangeline was up and dressed before eight. The cold shower cooled her raging hormones enough for her to pull up her most recent manuscript and get to work.
Hours later, as she struggled to make sense of the paragraph she was working on for like the fifteenth time, she chalked it up to caffeine withdrawal. She was missing her coffee. And, sure, she could’ve gone into her kitchen and brewed a pot, but why should she have to? She liked the way Mugs made her iced macchiato and one strange encounter wasn’t going to keep her from it.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he was going to be there again. And if he was? Maybe it would help to confront him and ask him if he had meant to follow her yesterday.
Evangeline grabbed her purse, made sure her wallet, phone, and keys were inside, then set her jaw. She knew she was reaching. She also knew she wasn’t fooling herself.
That didn’t stop her from heading back to the coffee shop.
Maddox yanked on the collar of his turtleneck.
Remembering how the Ants at the D.P.R. treated him after they noticed his scars, he had Colt run out and buy him a bunch of cheap shirts to hide his neck before he left the Bumptown. He already decided to approach Evangeline as human now that he knew she didn’t remember him; after all, that had also worked for him before. He then made a conscious effort to hide his paranormal features until he was sure he wouldn’t scare her off again. He borrowed another pair of sunglasses from Colt—in a bid to hide his Para eyes—and the turtleneck covered up the marks from the silver collar.
He despised the shirt. It was tight and confining, nothing like the t-shirt he had destroyed when he lost control and shifted a few blocks away from Evangeline’s apartment. Maddox admitted that he hadn’t been thinking clearly after walking right into her wards, but at least he’d had enough brain cells to wait until he was further from her door before he went wolf. The last thing he needed was for her to find a pile of his ruined clothes right outside her home and wonder how they ended up there.
He was still pissed at himself for that. Not so long after he vowed to hold on to the last reminder of her scent, Maddox went ahead and let his shift destroy it. It wasn’t like he could replace it anytime soon, either. Not while Evangeline managed to hide her scent from him.
Then there was the undeniable fact that he hadn't been able to even approach the front door to her apartment building yesterday. Wards. He scowled as he nursed his coffee, clinging to the prop as some explanation why he was haunting the coffee shop. Her place was warded so heavily that he could throw everything he had at it and it would mean nothing because he wasn't getting in.
Just like Colt had a hate boner for witches, Maddox couldn’t stand their wards. It wasn't natural, being separated from his mate like that. To see her, but not smell her. To know where she slept at night, but to leave her to sleep alone.
He slammed his half-empty coffee on his tabletop, yanked on his collar again, and huffed. For everyone's sake, she better be sleeping alone.
That was it. His biggest fear seeping its way into his thoughts despite how desperately he tried to ignore it. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to push the terrible suspicion out of his head only to fail miserably. Three years she was out there. Three years without any kind of mate bond.
It had been pure torture for Maddox while he was incarcerated, but at least he had his memories. After yesterday, Maddox was almost positive that Evangeline didn't even have that much. If she was faking, if she had recognized him and just pretended not to, he would’ve been able to tell. No. She looked at him—then looked right through him.
What would he do if Evangeline had started a new life without him?
Just the idea was so painful, Maddox had to clamp his jaw shut to keep his wolf’s keening cry from escaping into the crowded coffee shop.
It wouldn't matter, he assured his wolf. Evangeline was his. He knew it. Fate knew it, too. They were made for one another. He was as much hers as she was his and Maddox would do anything to prove it.
Even sit at the same table for more than four hours in the hope that he might get the chance to do more than stalk her home.
After he ordered his first cup of coffee and tipped the trio of baristas a twenty, they left him alone. He went back and had them refill his cup twice, his shifter metabolism burning through the caffeine before he even felt so much as a twinge.
No, it was the anticipation that had him twitching in his seat.
Where was she?
Though Evangeline might not know him any longer, Maddox refused to believe that she was a stranger to him, too. His Angie was as reliable as the sun. Once she developed a routine, you could set your watch by it.
It was barely noon yesterday when she walked into Mugs. He scrabbled for his last receipt. He bought a croissant because he needed something to chew on and—there. 12:13. That was maybe ten minutes ago.
Where was she?
The door swung outward, the bell tinkling gently. Like he’d been doing for most of the morning, Maddox glanced toward the front.
He went absolutely still.
Angie.
She turned her head to and fro, obviously searching for something. Searching for him? Maddox didn’t want to risk getting his hopes up when, suddenly, their gazes locked from across the room. Evangeline froze, like a deer in headlights as she stared. There was no other word for it. She simply stared.
