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“How much do I owe you?” I checked.
He rolled his eyes at me, and I sighed.
Instead of saying thank you, which he always rejected, I stepped in front of him and went up on my tiptoes. My lips brushed his once, and then again. The second one was longer, and lingered.
Our tongues met, slowly getting reacquainted. I felt bad for the distance I’d put between us, but everything the day before had me wanting to withdraw from everyone.
My stomach growled, and Zed pulled away with a chuckle. “Let’s go.”
I nodded, biting my lip as my fingers naturally found his.
We headed down the stairs and then slipped into the truck. Zed told me to eat while he checked us out, and I was too hungry to argue. While I ate, though, I noticed an equally-large bag of food for him sitting on his seat. I peeked in, and noticed that nothing was touched.
I frowned at him when he slid into the driver’s seat. “Why didn’t you eat?”
He lifted an eyebrow at me. “You were hungry.”
“So?”
“So, a male werewolf never eats while his female is hungry. She comes first, always. In every situation, and every way.”
My eyebrows lifted higher. “That sounds unfair for the men, don’t you think?”
He shrugged, pulling the truck away from the hotel. “It’s a matter of tradition, nature, and respect. It’s not fair for us to rip our mates away from their human lives, is it?”
“You have no control over that, though.”
“No, but it’s still our actions that hurt you, whether conscious or unconscious.”
I had felt that way during the first year, while I was running from him. But now… now, I didn’t feel like being his mate was a bad thing at all.
Even if I could never have sex with him again, because I just wasn’t good.
The thought made me physically ill, so I shoved a bite of fruit into my mouth, trying to ignore it.
“Still seems kind of anti-male,” I said, around a mouthful of food.
“Or pro-female,” Zed countered, shooting me a teasing smile.
His smile eased my nausea, just slightly.
We hadfun on the way back to Moon Ridge, even though we ended up having to buy a map. Zed’s parents had forced him and all of the other werewolves to learn how to read the damn things when they were little, just in case their wolves ever got them lost and they had to stop and find a map to get themselves home.
He hadn’t needed to use that particular skill before, but we were both damn glad he had it.
We got home early the next morning, and crashed in bed together. It felt good to be back in our bed, though it felt strange, too. I hadn’t felt like I was going home in years, yet when we collapsed on that mattress, a feeling that I thought might resemble home rolled through me.
Comfort.
Peace.
Safety.
There was something blissful about it that I didn’t understand, but loved more than I could say.
We sleptuntil someone pounded on our front door loudly enough to wake us both up.
Zed groaned, “Damned pack.”
