Chapter 32 #2
touched your fucking drink.”
“I wasn’t going to drink it after that,” I state defensively. “I’m not a total idiot.”
He grumbles under his breath as he rakes a frustrated hand through his hair, his posture hunched and irritable.
“Where did you come from?” I ask, looking up the mountain.
“I was outside,” he replies, wincing slightly.
“Doing what?”
He sighs heavily. “I was watching you.”
“Why?” I blink back at him.
He growls again and begins pacing in the parking lot, shaking his arms out like he’s preparing for a big workout or something.
“Because it’s what I do, Everly. It’s what I’ve always done with you. I’ve been watching you since Trinity. Every stupid matchmaking
session you ran, I showed up, and I followed you home.”
“What?” I ask, my brain struggling to understand any of this. Wolf barely acknowledged my existence back then. And I would have noticed if he came to all those events . . . right? “Why would you do that?”
“Because you are painfully ignorant of how fucking beautiful you are.” His voice is desperate and unhinged, his eyes haunted
and boring into me like he’s revealing something monumental to me. “You didn’t even notice at your first event that a guy
was trying to fuck with your drink.”
“At Mulligans?”
“Yes.”
I jerk back at that. “Well, why didn’t you call the cops?”
“I don’t know,” he bites back. “Because I didn’t have proof. It was just a feeling. I didn’t like how he looked at you.”
“How did he look at me?” I ask as my mind spins with this information, trying to recall what guy he’s referring to. I don’t
know if that’s even what I should be focusing on right now. I should probably be more curious as to why Wolf cared so much
he followed me home for four years, but I’m just processing things as best I can right now.
“He looked at you like if he found you in a dark alley, he wouldn’t care about consent,” Wolf thunders, his entire body radiating
rage.
“That’s awful.” My chin wobbles as fear slices through me. “But what about you?”
“What about me?” he pulls back, looking hurt.
“Weren’t you also lurking in a dark alley when I was walking home from the pub?” I ask, heat flooding my cheeks as I picture
what he’s telling me.
He sighs heavily, a look of defeat marring his handsome, brooding features. “Yes, I was. And I get it. It’s fucked-up. And
it’s fucked-up that I kept doing it. I didn’t trust half the lads circling you. Not for a second.”
“So, you were concerned?” I state, needing to test that word out.
“Yes,” he growls, his nostrils flaring. “I needed to watch out for you.”
“Okay.” I swallow the knot in my throat. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? Walk with me?”
“I didn’t need to,” he replies curtly. “I just needed to see you safe inside the Rubrics. Once you were in there, I could
breathe again.”
My mind reels with this strange information. He needed me safely home so he could breathe again. Holy shit. Firstly, how was I so oblivious, and secondly, what does that mean? “You followed me home since first year?”
“Yes.”
“And then I was just randomly paired with your sister?”
His face twitches. “That wasn’t totally random.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“I know a guy who works in housing. When my sister had to be moved because of her teammate, I called in a favor for her to
live in your building. Figured then I could look out for both of you a bit easier. I didn’t know they’d match you together.
That was destiny’s sick fucking joke, I guess.”
“Holy shit, Conri,” I croak, my body shivering as goose bumps erupt over my skin. “My mind is . . . blown.”
“I know. I’m sick.”
“Yes,” I confirm and then take a step toward him to say the words right to his face. “You’re a stalker.”
“I know.” He looks down, unable to meet my eyes as he says,“There’s more.”
“More?” I bellow, my blood pressure spiking. “I don’t know if I can handle more.”
“That guy you took to the ball who wrote a shitty Instagram post about you?”
“Yeah?”
He inhales deeply. “He got his phone smashed at the pub the next day.”
“How do you . . .” Realization dawns on me. “That was you? I thought it was Cliona, but she wouldn’t admit it!”
Wolf’s mouth is tight and unapologetic. “Cliona made me promise not to touch him, but online bullies deserve worse if you
ask me.”
I open my mouth to say something back, but I don’t know what I’d even say. My best friend’s brother followed me home for four
years and then broke some guy’s phone who spoke poorly about me on the internet. What does any of this even mean? Four years.
Four years of me walking into Mulligans with my furry notebook—and Wolf was there? Every time?
“Why did you do it?” I ask, my brain short-circuiting as I continue to process.
“To protect you.”
“Okay, but why did you care so much?”
“I don’t fucking know,” he cries, his voice strained. “Because I’m too much as well, I guess.” He lifts his hands in surrender. “I can’t explain it, but I am sorry for not telling you sooner. I know
it’s fucked-up, and I don’t blame you for ending whatever this is between us. I can even resign from the rescue center as
well if you don’t feel safe. Fuck, I’ll go back to Dublin, and you never have to—”
“Stop talking,” I say firmly, looking at Wolf hard in the eyes as my chest feels like it’s going to explode. Half of me wants
to scream and tell him he should kick rocks because what kind of normal person does that? It’s creepy, Lifetime movie vibes
for sure. My family would have a field day with this one.
But the other half of me . . . the stupid, reckless, possibly insane half . . . feels . . . touched? Like maybe I wasn’t as invisible as I thought all four of those years at Trinity. Like maybe someone saw me when I was at my loneliest and decided I was worth looking out for?
The matchmaker in me wants to catalog it as some grand gesture, a fairy-tale moment that ends in happily ever after.
The girl in me . . . the one who secretly fears she’ll never be someone’s choice . . . wants to believe Wolf’s been choosing
me all along.
The most terrifying thought of all though . . . the one I’m a little scared to say out loud . . . is that there’s something
erotic about knowing he was there. Watching. Waiting. Protecting.
Holy shit.
“This is . . . easily the craziest, most fucked-up thing anyone has ever done for me.” For me? Is it for me? Or to me?
“I know,” he says, eyes cast downward.
“It’s also . . . hot,” I blurt out, laying all my cards on the table.
His head snaps up. “What?”
“It’s . . . kind of hot.” My skin prickles as an ache blooms between my legs that I am desperately trying to ignore. “Maybe
that makes me crazy too, but all I’m hearing is that you saw me in a way I’ve never felt seen before.”
Wolf leans in closer, his voice dropping. “I’ve always seen you, Everly.”
I inhale a shaky breath as the air between us goes molten. My eyes sting with something that I can’t quite name. “I see you
too, Conri.”
Suddenly, I can’t remember why I’m supposed to be mad. This man, even when he was still a boy, saw me and made sure I was safe. That is such a contrast to how I thought he viewed me.
I just needed to see you safe inside the Rubrics. Once you were in there, I could breathe again.
It’s the sort of thing I’d expect from my dad or my uncles. Always defending me. Always worried about me. Always feeling responsible.
But this . . . from Wolf . . . it feels bigger, more meaningful. More telling in ways I’m not sure how to process. All I can
think about is him, inches away, that scent of his drawing me in like a moth to a flame.
We stare at each other for a long, unending moment before I say, “I want you to show me.”
“Show you what?” he asks, his eyes brutal as they flick back and forth between mine.
“Show me what you looked like when you followed me home.” My breath stutters as heat coils low in my belly. “I need to see
it with my own eyes.”
Wolf jerks away from me, his head shaking side to side. “No, Everly, this is sick. I’m sick.”
“It’s not sick. It’s . . . I’m . . .” My voice falters. What I’m about to say feels absolutely batshit, but I just can’t help
myself. “I’m turned on.”