Chapter 33
Harlow
I finish the last bite of pasta. After the day I’ve had, I shouldn’t have been so hungry, but I ended up eating every last bite. I guess my body needed the fuel, and as usual, the kitchen staff outdid themselves. I set my fork down and lean back against the sofa cushions.
The empty plate stares up at me from the coffee table, and I drag myself up to place it back on the tray that one of the kitchen workers brought earlier.
I glance toward my bedroom. The thought of getting into my pajamas sounds amazing right now. So does crawling under those covers and letting sleep claim me. It’s barely past eight, but who cares? I’ve earned an early night.
But even as I think it, I know it won’t work. If I lie down now, I’ll just stare at the ceiling, replaying every moment of today on an endless loop.
I’ll end up lying there, wondering where the hell Drake is, too. I’ve come to the realization that he probably isn’t coming. Maybe that’s for the best. Hopefully, he’ll want to talk it through tomorrow when we’ve both had time to process.
Though knowing Drake, he’s going to want to sweep the whole thing under the rug like it never happened. He’ll ignore me as much as he can and avoid me as much as possible. I won’t let him. We need to talk this through, and that’s that.
I grab the remote and switch on the television, curling back onto the couch.
The screen flickers to life, and I start looking through channels.
Cooking show. News. Some drama I don’t recognize.
Nothing holds my attention. I’m not really watching anyway; just letting the images and sounds wash over me while my mind wanders where it shouldn’t.
The next thing I know, I’m jolting awake to the sound of knocking.
I blink hard, disoriented. The TV is still on, playing some late-night talk show. How long was I asleep? I wipe at my eyes and push myself off the sofa. My foot catches on the coffee table leg, but I catch myself immediately, barely stumbling.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
“Yeah…yeah…I’m coming,” I call out, my voice rough with sleep. I go to the door, yawning. Must be one of my friends checking in on me.
I pull open the door, and my breath catches.
Drake.
He’s standing there in jeans and a plain black T-shirt that stretches across his chest. I’ve only ever seen him naked or in his uniform.
This is…different. The casual clothing somehow makes him look more dangerous, more real.
His dark hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the hallway. His eyes lock onto mine.
I try very hard not to notice how incredible he looks. I fail spectacularly.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Drake asks, one eyebrow raised. “Or can I come in?”
“Hello to you, too,” I say, stepping aside. “You woke me up. I’m still…half asleep.”
His gaze travels down my body and back up again as I move, and I suddenly become very aware of what I’m wearing. Ratty sweatpants. An oversized T-shirt that’s seen better days. I look down and… Crap! There’s a dollop of pasta sauce right on my chest.
I rub at it, but it doesn’t budge. Shit.
I must look like a hot mess. A complete disaster. And of course, he’s standing there looking so together, so fresh, so stupidly hot that I want to either punch him or kiss him. Maybe both.
I decide to do neither.
I close the door behind him and turn to find he hasn’t moved further into the room. He’s just standing there, watching me with that unreadable expression he’s so good at. I fold my arms across my chest, partly defensive, partly to hide the stupid sauce stain.
“We need to talk about what happened,” Drake says.
Hallelujah. Actual communication. Maybe there’s hope for him yet. Relief floods through me, warm and unexpected.
“I think that’s a good idea,” I tell him, trying to keep my cool.
“Have you told anyone?”
The question irks. “I promised I wouldn’t. So, no, I haven’t.”
“Not even Jordyn?”
“No one,” I say firmly. Does he really think I’d break my word? “I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, Drake. I meant it.”
“It needs to stay that way.”
I nod, irritation prickling under my skin. He really doesn’t trust me to do the right thing, does he? After everything, he still sees me as some liability he needs to manage.
“There’s something I need to get out of the way. It’s important.” He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple work. “I read in your file that you’re on contraception. Since we didn’t use any protection, I needed to double-check that we’re good.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Yep. I had the injection just before coming. The one that lasts six months. The chances of my getting pregnant are almost nil,” I say. “You can relax.”
He visibly breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping. “Good. That’s…good.”
“I can take something if it’ll make you feel better? The morning-after pill. You’d have to organize—”
“No…unless you want to.” He lifts his brows.
“No, I think it should be absolutely fine.”
“Scar knows what happened between us,” he says after a beat.
My stomach drops. “What?”
“Yeah. He scented that we had sex.” Drake runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.
“He says his sense of smell is more developed than most shifters in their human form, which must be true because he shouldn’t have picked it up.
I was more worried about the dragons catching the scent when we flew home.
I’m hoping he’s the only one who knows.” His jaw tightens.
“This could still blow up in our faces…my face. I’ll protect you, Harlow. ”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words, but it’s immediately followed by annoyance. The sentiment is sweet, I guess, but also condescending as hell.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I tell him. “Besides, I think if anyone else knew about this, or if Scar wasn’t being truthful, word would have gotten out by now. The rumor mill on this island moves faster than the dragons do.”
“You’re probably right.” He nods slowly. “I trust Scar not to say anything. He knows we aren’t together. I set the record straight.”
The words hang between us. We just stare at each other, the silence stretching taut. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick. My cheeks heat, and I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or something else.
“Look—” we both start at the same time.
We both smile despite ourselves, and just like that, the tension shifts into something different.
“You first,” I manage.
Drake takes a breath. “I’m sorry, Harlow. That should never have happened. I took advantage of a terrible situation. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that, and I shouldn’t have—”
“Given me two great orgasms?” I finish for him, unable to help myself. His eyes widen. “It takes two to tango, Drake. Should I apologize to you for the same reasons you just gave?”
“What? For taking advantage of me?” His mouth twitches, almost a smile. “You didn’t take advantage of me. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”
“My sentiments exactly.” I spread my hands.
“I feel the same way. I was a willing participant. We’re attracted to each other…
I’m attracted to you. Should it have happened?
Absolutely not. Did it happen? Yes, it did, and I enjoyed it.
There’s no shame in that. But it’s done.
It’s over. Can we move on from this? Most definitely.
I’m sure you agree.” I keep my eyes on his.
“I do,” Drake says, his voice steady. “I can move on. I can be cordial and professional going forward.”
I can’t help it; I laugh. “You? Cordial?”
“What?” He looks almost offended. “I can be cordial.”
“It’s not a term I would use to describe you, but okay…fine.” I shrug, fighting another smile. “It would be really nice if you could be cordial with me going forward. We still have to work together.”
“And we can. No problem.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with all of this? Amelia and I didn’t even share a kiss and—”
“Let’s get something straight,” I interrupt, my voice sharp. “I’m not Amelia.”
“I know that.”
“I really hope you do.” I hold his gaze, making sure he understands.
“I’m not about to fall in love with you, Drake, if that’s what you’re worried about.
It isn’t going to happen. I just came out of a relationship—” Sort of.
Miles and I only had one date, and we didn’t even kiss.
“I’m hurt over what happened,” I continue.
“Cathrine was supposed to be my best friend. I mean, you heard the conversation. I’m not looking to get involved in any capacity. ” I shrug.
“I heard your conversation.” He nods, and there’s something almost gentle in his eyes.
“Well, then you know where my mind is at. I don’t think I could fall in love right now even if I tried.” I force myself to meet his eyes. “You’re safe. I swear it.” I hold up my hands.
Drake keeps his eyes locked on mine for several long, charged seconds.
Then he closes the space between us in two strides and cups my face in his big hands. The touch has my belly tightening with need and my eyes widening with shock. Because what the heck!?
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Because I want a repeat.”
I swallow hard, my mind racing, short-circuiting.
“What do you mean, you want a repeat?” I step back, breaking contact, his hands falling away. “I think I misunderstood you.”
He reaches out and grips my hip, pulling me back. I can feel the heat of his palm through the thin material of my T-shirt, burning into my skin.
“You didn’t hear wrong. Look, I didn’t plan this when I came here today…but I want to fuck you again, Harlow.” His voice is rough and raw. “I don’t want it to be rushed this time. I don’t want to take you in the dirt like an animal. I want to be more thorough. I want to taste every inch of you.”
My toes literally curl.
“I want to look at you this time. Really look at you and touch you…everywhere.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but it is. God, it is. “Then we can move on.”
I can’t breathe. My lungs have completely seized. My entire body feels like it’s on fire.
“What do you say?” he asks, his thumb tracing small circles on my hip. “One night and then we’re done. We move forward as a mind-bonded team and put this attraction behind us.”
“You were the one who said that sex would muddy the waters,” I manage to get out, my voice coming out higher-pitched than I’d like.
He smiles and I swear I go wet. My panties are done.
“The waters are already muddy, Harlow. Seriously fucking muddy.” He steps closer, and I can smell him, all cedar and smoke and male. “You say you won’t fall in love with me. Well, I won’t fall in love with you either. So, it will be fine. We can do this.”
Panic claws up my throat, but only because of how badly I want to say yes. I’m practically vibrating with the need to climb him like a pole, to let him do every dirty thing he’s suggesting…and more. I’ll beg for it. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else, and that terrifies me.
“No!” The word comes out almost as a growl.
“No?” He looks genuinely confused, like he can’t process what he’s hearing.
“That would be a terrible idea.” I step away from him, putting distance between us, even though his hand feels like a brand on my skin. “We could get caught. Someone could see you leave my bungalow. Someone might smell it on one of us. Scar did!”
“They won’t.”
“They might.” I shake my head. “No. Go away, Drake.” I point at the door, my voice rising several notches. “Go now. Leave. You’ll thank me in the morning. You’re talking like a crazy person.”
I sound harsh, I know I do, but I have zero willpower where this man is concerned. If he so much as crooks a finger at me, I’ll strip and beg him to take me six ways from Sunday.
He looks affronted, like he genuinely can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like no one has ever turned him down before. They probably haven’t.
“Just go. Please.” My voice cracks slightly. “Let’s be cordial going forward. Cordial, open, and honest. We can’t ever cross that line again. You know it.”
Something flashes across his face, disappointment? Frustration? But then it’s gone, replaced by that neutral mask he wears so well.
“You’re right,” he says finally, nodding. “Thank goodness one of us was thinking clearly. I’ll see you tomorrow, Harlow.”
Then he turns and walks away, and it takes everything in me, every ounce of strength I possess, not to call him back. Not to run after him to tell him I’ve changed my mind. I have to bite down on my tongue to keep the words from spilling out.
The door closes behind him, and he’s gone. I let him go.
I stand there, staring at it, my heart racing, my body still humming with unfulfilled desire.
No! I did the right thing. It’s better this way.