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I’ve never seen him this closed off before. A black cloud has fallen over him, and my body tenses with fear.
I dare not mention it now.
It looks like he could explode right on the spot.
I’ll have to ask him later.
23
Cain
Hand in hand, we walk through Madison Square Park as I lead us to a nearby table to eat the food we just purchased.
Ever the gentleman I am supposed to be, I pull her chair out. But the funny thing is, when I do it, I don’t need the inner voice prompting my every step. With her, I just want to. She takes a seat, and I sit beside her.
We begin to eat, and as we do, we are both quiet, but that’s the thing with Layla. It never feels awkward or like I need to find words to fill the silence, and the better part is, she doesn’t expect me to.
She takes me for who I am.
And it is one of the things I appreciate the most about her. I never have to be fake with her, and I never want to be.
The man I am is better when she is around, so I gravitate toward her.
As we continue to eat, I look at the buildings around me, often being inspired by my surroundings.
That’s when I see her.
Again.
This isn’t once. Or twice now. Fuck, this isn’t even the fourth time I’ve seen her. She’s treading on dangerous ground.
I’ve let this go too far.
I narrow my eyes, but she doesn’t avert her gaze away from me.
Instead, as I stare at her, I shake my head, tapping lightly on my throat. Implying without words that she is not welcome.
At the movement, her eyes widen. She understands what I’m saying, her own hand lifting to the scar on her throat.
But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she hardens her stare.
As though she isn’t afraid of me.
It’s a bad choice.
She should be.
She has observed my hate before, and she should not make the mistake to think me weak.
I am not one to be trifled with, and she needs to learn her place.
“Are you okay?” I hear from beside me.
I turn to see Layla watching me, and then she pulls her gaze from me and looks in the direction I was just looking in.
I know she sees her.
I know she wants to ask me.
When she turns her attention back to me, the questions are silently written all over her features.
“Yes,” I grit out, trying to keep my voice neutral. For the first time since I’ve known Layla, I will my lips to part. I make myself throw down the façade I’ve mastered throughout my life. “Of course.” I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “But—”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
I drop her hand and stand abruptly. “I want to get out of here.” Layla is quick to join me.
“Is there a reason?” Her voice dips, and her gaze darts back to the woman. The bane of my existence.
“Yes.”
Moving in the opposite direction, Layla tries to catch up. Her steps are hurried as if she thought I would leave her. Spoiler alert, I’m never going to do that. Then she stops abruptly, and I halt my movements to turn back and see what she’s doing.
A part of me thinks she’s about to confront her, but then I see Layla reach to the sidewalk. She’s grabbing a damn dandelion. She looks at me and then back at my stalker. Layla closes her eyes and blows at the flower. The wisps spread through the air. The wish moving toward the sky.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I can’t tell you that, remember?”
“Give me a hint, then.”
Her movement is subtle. Her gaze drifts back across the park to where she sits, still watching us. “I’m just happy you’re here with me.” She doesn’t go on, but I don’t need her to. I know what she wished for. For us to be together. For no obstacles. No drama. Just us. I can give her that.
“Let’s go,” I say again.
“Where?”
“Home.” I lean closer, brushing my lips to her ear. “I want to fuck you.” She shivers at my words, and I know they have done their job. All thoughts of the stranger across the park are long forgotten, but just in case, I add, “I want to feel your sweet pussy squeezing my cock.” I draw the words out slowly, and I feel her gasp.
With that, I pull her along the sidewalk with me.
I can feel her pulse beating rapidly as we head back to her place. She's excited.
Desperate for me. And that's okay.
I prefer it this way because if she knew the truth, if only she knew the wolf that walked alongside her, she’d run.
* * *
We’re not even out of the foyer of her apartment before I’m pulling her toward me and lifting her up.
