Chapter Seventeen
Wolfe
By the time the sponsor's manager finally lets me go, the house has gone mostly quiet.
Mostly anyway.
Someone is still talking downstairs, and judging by Andre’s muffled, “St Clair, I swear to fucking God,” Revel has somehow survived another day without developing an internal volume control.
I shut the front door behind me and glance around.
Rain taps against the tall windows. The fire in the sitting room has burned low, leaving the whole downstairs smelling like smoke, old wood and damp stone.
It’s fucking nice.
I’m also tired enough that I’d probably think a bus shelter was charming right now.
They kept me behind going through tomorrow’s schedule, course notes and approximately six thousand different ways the Mountain Course can kill us.
Very relaxing bedtime material.
My duffel disappeared sometime between arriving and heading back out, so I’m assuming someone found me a room.
I’m halfway up the stairs when a door opens above me.
Thorne steps into the hallway.
Gray sweats. Black T-shirt. Damp hair still messy from the shower.
“There you are.”
I grin
“Miss me?”
“Terribly.”
I stop and he stares back at me.
“Wow.”
“Don’t.”
“Wasn’t expecting honesty.”
“Fuck off.”
I laugh as I reach the landing.
Thorne catches the front of my hoodie and pulls me into him before I can say anything else.
His mouth hits mine, warm and familiar.
It's not rushed, or hidden.
Just a kiss because I’m finally here and apparently he feels like kissing me.
My hand settles naturally against his waist.
When he pulls back, I’m still smiling.
“Definitely missed me.”
“Was hoping kissing you might shut you up.”
“Poor strategy.”
“I’m realizing that.”
I lean in and kiss him again anyway.
Shorter this time.
His fingers stay hooked in my hoodie when we separate.
“You look knackered.”
“Feel fucking fantastic.”
“Liar.”
“The sponsors, showed me diagrams.”
Thorne winces. “Christ.”
“Actual fucking diagrams.”
“Thoughts and prayers, mate.”
“Appreciated.”
He turns and starts down the hall, but his hand slides from my hoodie into mine as he goes.
Easy and automatic.
I look down at our joined hands.
Thorne catches me doing it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That face says otherwise.”
“I like this version of you.”
He glances over. “What version?”
“The one who holds my hand without acting like it’s going to trigger the apocalypse.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
I laugh.
He squeezes my fingers once.
We reach the far end of the hall where two doors face each other.
Thorne nods left.
“Yours.”
I push it open.
My bag is already sitting on the bed.
“You brought my shit up?”
“Yeah.”
“And put me opposite you.”
“Convenient, innit?”
I look back at him.
“That’s suspiciously cute.”
“Say cute again and I’m moving your bag downstairs.”
I grab his shirt and pull him through the doorway instead.
He comes easily, hands landing at my hips.
“Domestic already,” I murmur.
“Don’t push it.”
“Carrying my luggage. Holding hands. Kissing me hello.”
“Wolfe.”
“Basically married.”
Thorne kisses me just to shut me up.
It works for about five seconds.
His hands slide beneath the back of my hoodie, warm palms settling against my skin, and mine move around his waist.
I like this. How fucking easy it’s become. Its not simple. Nothing about us is simple. But easy in the moments between everything else. Touching him without wondering if he’ll flinch.
Kissing him without waiting for panic to catch up.
His fingers flex against my back before he pulls away.
“You and Echo looked cosy earlier.”
There’s no accusation in it.
Still, I catch the edge.
I brush my thumb over his hip.
“Jealous?”
“Maybe.”
That gets my attention.
I smile.
Thorne immediately rolls his eyes. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”
“You admitted it.”
“I said maybe.”
“Basically a declaration from you.”
“Prick.”
I kiss the corner of his mouth.
“You know you don’t have to be.”
“I know.”
His arms stay around me, but something in his expression shifts.
Less playful.
I wait.
Thorne looks down between us for a second.
“This is getting serious.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“With her too.”
“Yeah.”
“And Draygon’s there.”
“Also yeah.”
He exhales through his nose.
“Bloody mess.”
“Bit.”
His eyes lift back to mine.
“You’re all right with that?”
“With Echo?”
“With all of it.”
The question is quiet enough that I stop fucking around.
My hand slides higher against his back.
“Thorne.”
“I’m asking.”
“I know.”
His jaw tightens slightly.
“I don’t want to find out in a month that this was just exciting because it was new.”
That's when I see it. Not jealousy or shame.
Fear.
The kind he hates admitting to.
I pull him closer.
“You really think I waited all this fucking time for you to finally admit how you feel just to screw it up once I got you?”
His mouth twitches.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
I shake my head.
“Thorne, I spent months watching you look at me like you wanted to climb me and then lie to yourself and everyone around you about everything you felt,”
“Your arse is distracting.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is.”
He gives me a warning look.
I soften.
“I’m not treating this like a joke.”
The tension in his shoulders eases slightly.
“I know I fuck around. I know I flirt. That’s me.”
“I know.”
“But you know the difference.”
His eyes stay on mine.
“Do I?”
I cup the back of his neck.
“You should.”
My thumb runs slowly beneath his ear.
“I don’t look at everyone the way I look at you.”
Thorne goes still.
I kiss him before he can turn that into something bigger than it needs to be.
Slow.
His mouth moves against mine, softer now.
When I pull back, his forehead rests against mine.
“You matter to me,” I say. “Echo matters to me. Whatever we’re building here, I’m taking it seriously.”
His hand slides up my spine.
“And publicly?”
I lean back enough to look at him.
“What about it?”
“You know what I mean.”
I do.
“If you kiss me downstairs, I’ll kiss you back.”
His expression doesn’t change.
“In front of everyone?”
“Thorne, you’ve already had your hands all over me in front of half the team.”
“Different.”
“How?”
He looks irritated that I’m making him say it.
“Because fucking around is easy.”
Ah.
There it is.
“But being together isn’t fucking around anymore.”
“No.”
His fingers tighten at my waist.
“I don’t want us acting like this upstairs and then pretending it’s nothing downstairs.”
I stare at him for a second.
Then smile.
His eyes narrow.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you just asked me not to hide our relationship.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m serious.”
“Wolfe.”
I kiss him.
He tries to stay annoyed for about two seconds before kissing me back.
When I pull away, I’m still grinning.
“You spent how long refusing to admit you wanted me, and now you’re worried I’m not going to claim you publicly?”
“Claim me and I’ll fucking headbutt you.”
I laugh.
“There he is.”
He shoves my shoulder.
I catch his wrist and kiss his palm.
That shuts him up.
For once.
“I’m not hiding you,” I say. “And I’m not going to make you feel stupid for finally letting me have this.”
His expression changes.
Softer.
His hand slides around the back of my neck and he pulls me in.
The next kiss has nothing playful in it.
It’s slow.
Deep.
His body presses into mine while my hands settle firmly against his lower back.
When we separate, neither of us moves far.
“You sleeping in here?” he asks.
I glance at the bed.
“Thought this was my room.”
“It is.”
“And yours is across the hall.”
“Yeah.”
I look back at him.
Thorne’s mouth twitches.
“Come sleep in mine.”
I grin.
“Missed me that much?”
He kisses me again.
“Don’t ruin it.”
I laugh against his mouth.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar.”
Probably.
But when he takes my hand and pulls me across the hall, I let him.
Because I’ve spent long enough waiting for Thorne to stop fighting what’s been between us. Now that he finally has, I’m not wasting a second of it.