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Silence stretches between us for a moment, neither of us saying a word, like we’re both waiting for the other to cave first. My pulse pounds in my ears, a crescendo leading to the culminating moment where I might finally see the secrets behind his rough facade.
But like a switch is flipped, the confusion written across his face is quickly replaced with barely caged annoyance, like a barrier has slammed down around him. My heart plummets, but I do my best to hide it with a look of derision as I hop off his desk to put space between us.
Fuck. Why does he have to make this so difficult?
I suck in a breath, letting myself have this final moment of disappointment before I push it aside.
Zeke gave me the time I needed to open up, and despite the pain slicing through my chest from the moment of vulnerability, I’m not going anywhere.
“I need an office,” I say abruptly and cross my arms over my chest as I cock a brow expectantly.
“What?” he blurts, his surprise momentarily breaking through his surly facade.
“If I’m going to stay here, I need an office,” I repeat slowly, taking a bit too much joy when his lip curls in annoyance at my tone. “I can’t very well meet with my betas in my bedroom, not unless you want me bringing other men—”
“No,” he snaps, narrowing a glare on me. “I’ll get you set up in your own office.”
“Perfect.” A self-satisfied grin spreads across my lips, and I turn to leave, not wanting to give him another moment of my time until he’s willing to open up.
“Wait,” he says, his tone a touch too sharp for my liking.
I pause, my lips pulling into a frown as his thick leather boots slap against the hardwood floor.
“For what?” The question slips out almost unbidden as his warm palm lightly grasps my shoulder. I could pull out of his grip. I could storm out of this office and not look back, but I don’t want to.
He steps closer, his chest pressing against my back, his warmth seeping into my skin despite the clothes that separate us.
“I’m trying,” he says, the warm caress of his breath skating across the bare skin of my neck. I almost wish my hair wasn’t braided over my shoulder at least that would shield me from the tingles of desire racing over my skin. “But don’t call my motives into question.”
I let loose a derisive snort but refuse to rise to his bait. This is what always happens, he says something to get under my skin, and I turn to him, I let him suck me in with his mesmerizing eyes, his broad shoulders, and his chiseled jaw beneath his blond stubble. I let myself get swept up in the lust already pooling in my core.
“Little wolf,” he growls, his grip on my arm tightening. I nearly pull out of his grasp, ready to stride through that door, when he looses a breath, the sorrow in it nearly cracking my heart in two. “I’m going to marry you. I’m going to give you the life you deserve, the family that should have always been yours. I’m going to be the mate worthy enough to call you theirs.”
I suck in a staggered breath, my heart pounding with his declaration. I want to tell him he is worthy, but I know this goes deeper than that. He’s telling me he’s not ready to open up to me, to give me everything I’m asking for.
My hands fist at my sides, and I push back that niggling voice at the back of my head telling me to turn around, to comfort him and tell him everything will be alright. I know what will happen if I do—we’ll resort back to the only connection he’s willing to have right now, and that’s not enough. It’s too easy to remember the earth-shattering orgasm he brought me to the other night with only his fingers, to let those flames of passion take hold once more and give in to the palpable sexual tension humming between us.
Why the fuck did I have to remember that right now? It’s making it even more difficult to stick to my word when I could let our bodies do the talking, let them communicate everything our hearts are guarding fiercely.
“I want everything,” I force out through dry lips. “I want everything you promised, and I’m willing to wait for it. I’m not walking away, not from this bond, and not from you ever again.”
Everett exhales a shuddered breath, the movement of his chest vibrating through me, straight to my heart.
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he says, his rough fingers sweeping across the side of my face and tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. The gentle touch sends shivers straight down my spine, my body craving him even more now. The connection thrums between us, our souls interlaced, teasing what it will be like when we solidify that link, when not only a bond ties us, but our stories and scars—our love.
“Skylar, I—” Everett starts, but the rest of his sentence is cut off as Zeke pushes open the office door. I was so distracted, so enraptured by Everett’s touch and what he was about to say, that I hadn’t even seen Zeke’s figure approach through the frosted glass.
“I should be going with you and Sky tonight,” Zeke huffs out as he strides into the room, his head down.
“You’re just jealous.” Arsenio chuckles as he follows, but stumbles to a halt as he sees Everett and me standing in the middle of the office.
“Fuck y—” Zeke says, cutting his words off midsentence as he spots us too. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Everett growls incredulously. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Pretty much,” Zeke says, shrugging as he steps further into the office. He winks at me, and I can’t help the choked laughter that bubbles up as I picture the enraged look Everett must be giving him right now.
“I, for one, am glad we interrupted you,” Arsenio says, letting the door close behind him as he walks the rest of the way into the office. “Can’t let you keep our mate to yourself.”
