Chapter 8 Zale
EIGHT
ZALE
Lifting the unfamiliar covers, I studied my naked body. That was unusual because I never slept in the nude in winter with the only exception being when I had sex.
Shoot! Sex. I shot up in bed and the room spun around. Heat pulsed through my veins as I remembered his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine and how he whispered my name as though I was something he cared about.
My cold was better though I was still sniffly. The alarm clock on the nightstand read 7:47 a.m. Hawthorn would have been up for hours already.
He hadn’t woken me at 2 a.m. and now he was working and I was in his bed. Had he left without waking me on purpose?
My clothes were folded neatly on the chair. That wasn’t how I'd left them last night when we’d been frantically tearing them off one another. Had he folded them this morning while I slept? And had he been relieved I was still asleep so he didn’t have to face me?
The espresso scent that clung to the sheets made my wolf whine. He wanted to burrow back into Hawthorn's bed and wait for him to return. I told him that wasn't happening.
The apartment was quiet except for the sounds drifting up from below. The bakery was open, and Hawthorn was working. He'd left me here asleep and gone back to his routine as though nothing had changed. Maybe nothing had for him.
I got dressed and headed downstairs as my heart thumped in my chest with each step. What was I supposed to say? How were we supposed to act around each other now?
The morning rush was over. Glancing through the doorway to the back, I caught sight of Hawthorn pulling loaves from the oven. There was nothing about him that suggested today was different from any other.
I stood watching him. His dark hair was tucked under the hairnet as always, and the ever-present flour was coating his forearms. He moved with that quiet confidence I'd come to know so well. But today was different because I recalled my body pressed against his and his hands on me.
He looked up and our eyes met. A brief, unguarded emotion crossed his face and was wiped away a moment later.
"You're up." His voice was professional. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." I was unsure where to stand or what to do with my hands. "Sorry I overslept."
"You needed the rest." He turned back to the oven. "There's coffee if you want some."
That was it? After everything last night, we were back to talking about coffee?
"Thanks."
I poured myself a cup. The silence between us was uncomfortable. Everything we weren’t saying was buried beneath the surface.
"I can help," I offered. "If you need me to."
"I've got it covered." He didn't look at me. "Take the day off. Make sure you're fully recovered."
He’d dismissed me and my wolf whined. I set down my mug.
"Right. Okay."
I should leave and go back to the lodge to give us both space. But my feet wouldn't move. Because if I left now, this awkward distance between us might become permanent.
"Hawthorn."
"Zale."
We spoke at the same time.
"You first," I managed.
His hands stilled on the bread he was slicing. "About last night."
This was it. He was going to tell me it was great but we shouldn’t do it again. I could hear the regret in his voice.
"Yeah," I said quickly, wanting to get in first before he gave his speech about it being him not me. "We should probably talk about that."
Hawthorn’s dark eyes were guarded and I couldn't read what he was thinking. My wolf wanted me to get closer and to recapture what we'd had last night. But I stayed where I was.
"I don't want you to feel pressured," he said slowly. "You're still figuring out your life. I understand if you want to keep things simple."
Simple. That was the direction he was going. He was giving me an out by telling me he didn't expect anything from me. Last night didn't have to mean anything if I didn't want it to.
Disappointment weighed on my shoulders, almost crushing me. But what had I expected? That one night would change everything and he'd want the complications I'd spent weeks telling myself I couldn't handle?
"Right." I choked out. "That makes sense."
Hawthorn pressed his lips together but he nodded. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."
Were we? Because everything in me was saying that "simple" was the last thing I wanted. But I'd run from my family to avoid being told what to do with my life. I couldn't turn around and tie myself to someone else before I'd figured out who I was.
Hawthorn made my wolf howl with longing and the thought of leaving brought tears to my eyes.
"So we just..." I waved my hand in the air between us. "Keep it easy and casual?”
"If that's what you want."
"Is that what you want?"
The words hung in the air and we stared at one another. I longed to say I wanted more but he apparently didn’t and I refused to be a love sick fool who had to be told no, sorry.
"I want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like."
He was being kind but I was tempted to stamp my feet and pummel his chest yelling that I had feelings for him and that my wolf had been pestering me for more than a friendship. But his words put an end to the subject and I wasn’t sure my heart would recover.
"Okay." I spoke in a monotone. "We can do casual."
"Okay."
The bell above the front door chimed. Hawthorn moved past me to serve the customer when our shoulders touched. The heat sizzled my skin and was almost painful. How I wanted to grab him and say I was lying, I didn’t want simple. I wanted him.
But I didn't. I sipped the coffee that had gone lukewarm, and it was as bitter as my mood, while Hawthorn chatted to Mrs. Trent about sourdough and the weather. Other customers came and went and when the rush finally ended and the bakery was quiet again, I didn’t leave and we worked side by side making batches of cupcakes.
The easy rhythm we'd developed over the past weeks should have returned. Instead, every movement felt calculated as if we were both trying too hard to act normal.
I reached for the flour at the same time as Hawthorn. Our hands brushed against one another and I jerked back as though I’d been burned.
"Sorry."
"It's fine."
But none of this was fine.
He measured ingredients with hands that had explored every inch of my skin last night. My body remembered the weight and taste of him, and how he'd gasped my name. But now there was a distance between us that was impossible to cross.
Maybe this was for the best and trying to figure out what we were to each other was too complicated on top of everything else. I was still technically just passing through while trying to figure out my life. Getting attached would only make leaving harder.
Except I was already attached. My wolf knew it and I knew it. I'd been lying to myself for weeks, pretending this was just physical attraction and anything other than what it actually was.
But Hawthorn had made it clear he wanted casual. And I'd agreed because I was too much of a coward to admit I wanted more.
"I should probably head back to the lodge," I said eventually. "Get cleaned up properly."
Hawthorn didn’t look at me. "Yeah. Take tomorrow off too if you need it."
"I'll be here at the usual time. The cold's almost gone." I grabbed my coat. "Same time tomorrow."
I made it to the door before his voice stopped me.
"Zale."
I thought he might say he was wrong and he wanted something more.
“Your clothes and toiletries are upstairs.”
Damn, I raced up and shoved everything in my bag as my face burned with humiliation.
I kept my head down as I walked back to the lodge through streets covered with fresh snow.
Christmas lights twinkled in shop windows and carol singers were setting up in the town square.
Everything was the same as when I'd first arrived, but I was different.
My wolf was miserable. He didn't understand why we'd left and we weren't in Hawthorn's den where we belonged.
I didn't have a good answer for him.
I had no idea how to fix this without admitting that I wanted something I'd sworn I wasn't ready for. And from what he’d said today, Hawthorn didn’t want it either.