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He was quiet again.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said, when he didn’t speak up again after a while. My legs were still shaking, and his hands still felt incredible on my backside. “But I’m not comfortable with continuing the way we are if you can’t trust me with your past. You asked me to be your mate—I expect you to back that up by acting like one.”
“I’m not young, Brynn. I have a past,” Bash finally said.
“I know. But I’m not comfortable sharing my life with someone who can’t trust me with theirs.” I looked back at my ingredients, starting on the recipe again.
A few minutes passed, and his hands finally left my ass.
More emotions welled in my throat as he left the kitchen, and I gave myself a minute to feel them.
Then, I focused on the task at hand:
Truffles.
When I was done with them, I would focus on my ads.
I finished the chocolate,wishing I’d worn my panties, but was too tired to work on my ads. I shuffled up to my room and closed the door behind me before collapsing against it, my eyes shut.
I opened them after a minute, and nearly screeched when I saw a massive, gorgeous man sprawled over my bed.
“What are you doing in here?” I demanded, my heart pounding rapidly.
“Waiting for you.” Bash’s head was propped up on his arm, and there was a sheet of paper on the bed beside him.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I warned, staying where I was.
I was too easily distracted by his hands. And tail. And dick.
“That’s not what I’m here for.” He picked up the paper and held it out toward me.
Reluctantly, I crossed the room and took the paper without looking down at it. “What’s this for?”
“You wanted the story. I figured you’d want a picture to go with it.”
Oh.
Ohh.
I had the paper flipped over in a heartbeat, and my eyes moved hungrily over the image.
It was a picture of Bash sitting at a table in a restaurant, with one arm around a small, severe-looking woman. She had pale skin and dark hair, and wore glasses. Neither of them were smiling.
“I don’t have any pictures of her on my phone or computer,” Bash explained. “I had to dig into an old social media site to find it. She was human.”
“Was?”
“She died a few years back. Her name was Carrie.”
I stared down at the picture, trying to work it out in my mind—Bash, having feelings for a woman like the one in the picture. Her image didn’t tell me a whole lot, obviously, but the fact that she wasn’t smiling did.
“So this was just a few years ago?”
“No, it was a few decades ago. She was on one of Zander’s tech teams while we were working on a rogue vampire outbreak. We met when I stopped in to grab something from Zander, and she asked me if I wanted to grab drinks after work. I never said yes to that shit, but for some reason, I did. We ended up in my hotel room, in bed together.”
My stomach clenched.
Maybe I was more possessive than I thought.
