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That seemed to do the trick to get her back inside when Fred returned to grab more things. I elbowed him while pitching my voice low to say, “Don’t act like a shifter.”
His eyes darkened. “What’sthatsupposed to mean?”
“That means she doesn’t know.”
His left brow curved up. “About…?”
I stared at him for a while, keeping my hands at my sides as recognition dawned on his face. Both brows rose, furrowed, then rose again as he glanced at the open doorway.
Fred perked up at the sound of Anita struggling with something. Instinct had me in the studio apartment under half a second, steadily grabbing the box from Anita before she could hurt herself.
I nodded toward the doorway. “Go on. I’ll handle the rest of this.”
She squinted at me. “But you two can’t possibly—”
Fred pointed to the bags on the bed. “Those too?”
Anita absently nodded.
After my best friend grabbed the bags, I trailed after him to the door. “Come on, Ani. It’s alright. We’ve got it.”
She gave her studio a hesitant glance. “But nothing is really packed…”
“Trust me. I’ve managed worse.”
“Somehow, I believe you.”
While that statement didn’t impress me, her tone told me she didn’t trust people easily. And why would she after men like Phil had torn through her life like a category five hurricane? The destruction left behind was clear even after the rubble wasremoved. What she had rebuilt still bore metaphorical marks of her previous life.
She deserved to have a peaceful life. I wanted to be the catalyst for that.
Ignoring my black ops instinct to make Phil disappear was difficult, but I knew I couldn’t draw too much attention to the situation. We were already treading unpaved roads by being involved outside ofStork’s. I was still trying to come up with a proper excuse for Patricia, but I kept falling short of the truth.
But maybe the truth would do better than anything else.
When enough of Anita’s things were packed between the truck and my car, I ignored the gnawing urge to pull her into my arms. I denied my desire to reach for her even when her elbow hit mine in the car. Neither of us moved. Yet neither of us made a move to move closer.
The whole way back to Hayden pack lands, I stole glances at her, quietly assessing her features to determine whether or not she was happy about this decision. I hadn’t exactly given her a choice. But simultaneously, she hadn’t argued with the decision. It wasn’t like she was fighting me on it.
Did she want to live with me? Reasonably speaking, she must have been okay with it. Because she wouldn’t have bothered strapping herself into my car if she had other desires. But having no other options was different than activelychoosinganother option.
Her arm warmed my forearm. Her fingers danced over my palm. I spread my fingers wide, stretching each digit with every intention to drape them over her hand.
But I didn’t. I pulled my hand away to rest on the wheel. The whole ride back, I pretended like I didn’t feel the hurt pouring from her in waves over that small rejection.
And I pretended like I didn’t feel the same way.
***
My time as a grim dog had taught me how to function on as little sleep as possible. Most people needed six hours a night while I barely needed one REM cycle of ninety minutes to last me another twenty-four hours.
But however much I didn’t need sleep, that didn’t stop me from feeling the effects of my lack of rest the following morning. I barely made it to the kitchen without my knees wobbling. The second-floor hallway smelled like warm sugar and vanilla. It was an unprecedented assault on my nostrils.
And one that made my morning wood solidify in my joggers.
Irritated by her hold over me, I tried to adjust my boner while reaching for the tea cabinet. I had time to shower before going to the greenhouse, and I had to figure out what to do with Anita before I left the house. It wasn’t like I could take her with me, because then she might see some naked children sprinting around the playground.
Sure, it was cold, but that wasn’t going to stop shifter kids from stripping their clothes and turning into animals. Anita wasn’t exactly familiar with the paranormal world, and it wasn’t something I could explain away without exposing my status as a wolf. I had to tell her about shifters at some point—and then vampires, fairies, and witches, of course.
