Chapter 9 Flynn
NINE
FLYNN
“I was a fool,” had been on repeat in my head the past two weeks since I'd watched Clark walk away from me outside the bookstore. I'd let him go because I was too much of a coward to tell him the truth.
My wolf was miserable, pacing restlessly beneath my skin and whining for the man I'd driven away. He’d been pestering me and I’d refused to listen, knowing what he was saying and what was in my heart were one and the same.
Clark was my mate!
My wolf had been trying to tell me this since that first day.
I’d stopped sleeping and jolted awake from dreams where Clark was still in my bed where he belonged. The apartment was quiet and empty without his laughter filling the corners.
I wasn't eating enough or taking care of myself. I needed a hair cut but didn’t have the energy to get it done. Besides, the hairdresser would want to chat about books and I wasn’t in the mood. I might burst into tears.
Martin commented on my appearance twice this week, asking if I was feeling alright.
I’d brushed him off with an excuse about being busy, but I was coming apart at the seams. I couldn’t remember if I’d brushed my teeth or put on deodorant and I stared at the computer without seeing whatever was on the screen.
"You look like hell," Martin said, not bothering with pleasantries as he browsed the philosophy section.
"Thanks for the pep talk."
"I'm serious. When's the last time you had a proper meal? Or a full night's sleep?"
I couldn't remember. Food had lost all appeal and it turned to ash in my mouth whenever I tried to eat. Sleep was broken by dreams of Clark's disappointed face and the memory of me calling us incompatible.
"I'm fine," I lied.
Martin gave me a look that said he wasn't buying it. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that young man who was helping you with inventory, would it? Clark something?"
My hands stilled on the book I'd been shelving. "I don't know what you mean."
"The children's book author. Nice guy. Haven't seen him around lately."
"We had a... disagreement."
"Ah." Martin pulled a book from the shelf, examined it, and put it back. "Want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Sometimes it helps to get an outside perspective."
I looked at this kind man who'd been coming to my store for years and who'd never judged me for my antisocial tendencies. For a moment, I almost wanted to tell him about shifters and my wolf and how I'd ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me because I was too scared to be honest.
Instead, I shook my head. "It's complicated."
"Most worthwhile things are."
The words were too close to what Clark had said that night on my couch, and I had to turn away before Martin could see the pain on my face.
"I should get back to work.”
He nodded, but I could sense his concerned gaze following me as I retreated to my office.
The days blurred together after that. I went through the motions of running the store but it seemed I was watching my life from the outside. My wolf was getting more agitated, and I worried I'd have to leave town because otherwise he’d have me shifting somewhere public.
Every word Clark had spoken was a knife twisting in my chest. I wanted to tell him about my wolf and how my whole body ached when we were apart.
I'd never felt whole as I did when he was near.
But then I thought about what happened when I was a kid and my resolve hardened.
Better Clark hate me now than be terrified of me later.
It was nearly three weeks after our disagreement that I saw him.
It was Sunday and the store was closed. I spotted Clark across the street, heading toward the pharmacy.
He was pale and I imagined he'd been sleeping as poorly as I had. But he’d probably forgotten about me and might be dating some new guy.
I bent over as my belly churned at the thought.
He was wearing the sweater I'd given him that first night that gave me hope he was thinking about me. But I’d been horrible to him and we’d broken up—I guessed that was what it was—so why would he be missing me?
My wolf wanted to cross the street and demanded I apologize. He insisted I pull Clark into my arms and never let him go. Instead, I was frozen on the sidewalk, watching my mate disappear into the pharmacy.
I should have gone back to the store and left him alone as I'd promised. But my feet carried me across the street anyway, drawn by a force I couldn't resist.
The pharmacy was small, with narrow aisles and fluorescent lighting that made everything look clinical. I told myself I was just picking up the vitamins I'd been meaning to buy for weeks, nothing more. But as I walked into the store, I followed Clark.
I found him in the family planning aisle, standing in front of the pregnancy tests. He was staring at the wall of boxes with fear etched on his pale face and he was tugging at the sleeves of the sweater he had on. My sweater. Every protective instinct I had was screaming at me to comfort him.
"Clark?"
He spun around, his eyes wide with something that looked like panic. "Flynn. I... what are you doing here?"
"Shopping." Why else would I be here? I couldn’t say I was stalking him. "Are you okay?"
His gaze darted back to the pregnancy tests and then to the floor. "I'm fine. Just... picking up some things."
But he was swaying as if he was about to collapse, and there was something in his scent that made my wolf pay attention. I couldn’t determine what it was.
“Hey.” I stepped closer, and he didn't back away. "You don't look fine."
"I've been sick.” He nibbled his bottom lip. "For weeks. I thought it was just stress, but..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. I looked at the pregnancy tests and the fear in his eyes. The pieces started clicking into place.
Oh my gods. Was he…? Was that a result of us being together? A baby? My baby?
He swallowed hard. "I didn't think... I mean, I know it's possible, but I never thought it would happen to me. Or to us.”
Clark was pregnant with my child. And I'd spent the last three weeks pushing him away, convincing myself that we were incompatible, that he could never accept what I was.
I should have taken him in my arms and said how much I loved him and I was a horse’s ass and would he ever forgive me. But I said none of that. "Have you taken a test?"
He shook his head. "I keep meaning to, but I'm scared of what it'll say."
"Scared of being pregnant, or scared of not being?" Or was he terrified of being linked to me even though we weren’t together?
He looked at me with something that might have been hope. "I don't know. Both, maybe?"
We stood under the harsh fluorescent light, surrounded by pregnancy tests and family planning supplies, and it dawned on me that everything I'd been so afraid of was already happening. Clark was potentially carrying my child and I'd been too much of a coward to be there for him.
"I know what you're going to say. That this is exactly why we shouldn't have gotten involved. That it's too complicated, too much risk."
"No," I said firmly. "That's not what I was going to say at all."
His head shot up. "It's not?"
"I was going to say that I'm sorry. I've been a fool and an asshat. I've missed you every single day since that night I pushed you away.” I paused for breath. “And if you want nothing to do with me, I’ll understand because I deserve it but I will support you and the baby emotionally and financially.”
I noted the same longing I'd been carrying reflected in his eyes.
"Flynn..."
"I hurt you and I pushed you away when you needed me most. But if you're pregnant..." I gulped. "If you're carrying my child, then I’ll be there for both of you.”
His eyes filled with tears. “Wait. For a moment let’s pretend I might not be pregnant. Would you be saying the same things if we weren’t standing right here in front of the pregnancy tests?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in saying that. He was my world and I’d stomped on it and him.
“What about all that stuff about us being incompatible?"
He wasn’t letting me get away with being vague. Smart guy. "I was scared of you finding out things that might change how you think of me. But if you feel about me the way I do about you, I owe you the truth about who I am."
"What are you talking about?" He pummeled my chest in frustration.
I glanced around at the other customers browsing nearby. "Not here. Can we... can we go somewhere private? My apartment?”
Clark hesitated, and I held my breath. Then he nodded.
"Let me buy these first," he said, grabbing two pregnancy tests. “We have to find out.”
“No, I’m paying.” I took five tests because one, two or three might not be enough.
As we walked back to my apartment, I tried to figure out how to explain that I was a shifter to someone who didn't even know we existed. The secret I'd been so afraid to tell him was about to become unavoidable. But for the first time in weeks, my wolf was calm.