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The heartbeat at my temple—which I’d oddly gotten used to—picked up in staccato.
“What do you mean?” she repeated.
“It’s common for Blood Mates to be able to pick up what the other is thinking or feeling—at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Wait.” She leaned back against the door and stared at me intently, her eyes going small and squinty with concentration.
What am I thinking?
“What am I thinking.”
She gasped and moved away. I let her go, knowing she needed some space to process this.
She paced the length of the kitchen, mumbling to herself.
“If it helps, I can only catch your thoughts when you’re thinking directly at me like you did just now. I usually pick up only a couple of words here and there.”
She stopped and stared, midpace. Then she stepped back to me, tilting her head back to look me in the eyes. Her hands were anchored to her hips.
“Think something at me right now.” Bossy little thing, wasn’t she?
You look adorable when you’re bossy.
She stared at me for a whole minute then shook her head. “Nothing. Why doesn’t it work both ways? It’s unfair that you get access to my thoughts and I can’t hear a damn thing from you.”
“I’m not sure. The bond is just beginning...maybe that’ll change?”
She sighed, letting her hands fall against her sides.
“So unfair.”
Her reaction was so childlike that I almost laughed. I couldn’t fight the smile that crept across my lips.
I wanted to press a kiss to her forehead and envelop her in my soothing warmth.
Her brows furrowed. “I’m smelling something again, but it’s comforting and kind of...soothing. Like someone threw a blanket over me when I didn’t realize I was cold.”
“Guilty,” I said, shoving my hands in my work pants. “I was just thinking that I wanted to comfort you and my body probably took it literally.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s like a superpower.”
I could only laugh.
Her eyes met mine, her gaze assessing. A little hesitant.
“Right.” I cleared my throat, fingers fidgeting with the end of my braid. “I have to get back.”
She nodded, fingers meeting and knotting together.
Kiss goodbye.
Before I was tempted to do just that, I forced my feet backwards to the doorway. I’d meant what I said before—we needed distance to figure this all out.
“Be back later.” My voice was rough, and my lips tingled like they were protesting my decision to walk away.
