Chapter 10
Ten
HAVEN
I’m sore. Everywhere.
With a groan I roll over, my eyes popping open when I remember I’m not the only one sleeping in this bed.
I scan the space next to me, my heart beating faster than my mind is processing.
When I don’t find Becks lying next to me anymore, I breathe a sigh of relief, but the spike of adrenaline that just shot through me leaves me a little jittery.
Sliding out of bed, I rub the sleep from my eyes. It feels like I’ve hardly slept, but the light filtering through the crack in the blackout curtains tells me it’s morning.
I release another groan. I’m so not a morning person.
It’s at that moment that Becks comes out of the bathroom with just a low-slung towel wrapped around his waist.
Any lingering haze of sleep vanishes the moment my eyes land on his bare chest.
Last night, after I accidentally hit him with a fireball, he didn’t even bother putting a shirt back on. I tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but when we finally got a new room, I asked him if he was planning on covering up.
He looked down at himself like he’d completely forgotten he was shirtless and then just shrugged.
Shrugged!
He said something about how dragon shifters run hot anyway and that he never sleeps with a shirt.
The fact that I didn’t spontaneously combust on the spot was a small miracle.
Somehow, I held it together and muttered what I thought was a very put-together and nonchalant, “Okay,” accompanied by a shrug of my own. But as we quickly got ready for bed I couldn’t look in his direction. Not even when he slid under the covers next to me.
He offered to sleep on the floor, which I thought was nice, but my shoes were sticking to the carpet, so I couldn’t let him do that. Just the thought of walking barefoot around the room was making me cringe.
I slept on my side, so close to the edge of the bed a gentle nudge would have sent me to the sticky floor below, spending the first hour faking sleep until my exhaustion finally pulled me under.
Now it’s a new day, and I’m once again faced with a front-row view of the most perfectly sculpted chest known to man.
There’s only so much a girl can take.
Without meaning to, I start counting each bump and ripple, my eyes skating over the view, trying to decide what’s more distracting.
All that muscle definition, or the ink.
Becks is sporting some pretty major tattoos. On his left arm is an illustrated dragon that wraps around his bicep and curls onto his shoulder. The beast is both vicious and beautiful, and I’m dying to get a closer look at all those details.
An anatomical heart made of teal dragon scales sits over his left pectoral, and it keeps drawing my attention. It’s so lifelike that I want to reach out and trace it, just to see if I can feel the smooth scales beneath my fingers.
He’s a dragon shifter, so the tattoos make sense, yet I can’t help but wonder if there’s a deeper meaning behind them. But my attention doesn’t stay there long as my gaze is already drifting lower.
Is it possible to have more than eight abs? Because unless I’ve suddenly lost my ability to count, he has ten.
“—so I think that’s what we should do.”
Oh shoot. He was just talking and I missed almost every word.
“Ahh,” I reply. “Sure.”
He gives me a look that says he knows I don’t have any idea what he just said. And he’s not wrong.
I feel my cheeks warm. “Sorry. I’m not a morning person. It takes me a little while to wake up.”
He nods like that makes perfect sense.
I need to get it together.
“I was saying that I think we should hit the road and head south, avoiding as many of the major cities as possible. I want to stay clear of New York, but not so far away that we can’t get back there in a day if we need to.”
“Sure. Sounds like a plan.” Well, not really, but what else am I supposed to say? I gesture toward the open bathroom door behind him. “I just need a few minutes and then we can head out.” My gaze drifts to the side because, once again, I can’t look at him.
He seriously needs to learn to be fully clothed before interacting with people.
“Of course,” he says, and then steps to the side at the same time I do.
We kinda shift back and forth, trying to get out of each other’s way a few times, before he stops and grabs my arms.
The heat from his fingers sears my biceps as he moves around me. I give a nervous laugh and then flee to the bathroom. Only to realize when I’m leaned up against the shut door that I don’t have any of my toiletries or a change of clothes.
I lean my head back against the door with an almost silent groan, but Becks still hears me.
“Everything okay?” he calls.
I shake my head. Everything is very much not okay.
But instead of confessing that, I call, “Everything’s great,” and prepare to brush my teeth with my finger.
Thankfully, the motel has a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and a small travel-size toothpaste I can use, saving me from doing a finger brush.
I was going to skip a shower, until I see that I still have dirt streaked across my face and bits of leaves in my hair from the attack the night before.
So I take what has to be the fastest shower of my life and then suck it up and ask Becks to bring my duffel so I can change my clothes.
I’m not about to pull what he did and walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Although maybe if I did, he’d get a taste of his own medicine.
In less than thirty minutes, we’re back in his SUV, barreling down a country road.
In the light of day, the ride should be beautiful.
Late fall has stripped most of the trees bare, their branches skeletal against the pale sky, while what leaves remain cling in muted rusts and dull golds or blanket the ground in brittle drifts.
It’s the kind of quiet, understated beauty you have to slow down to appreciate, but it’s lost on me.
“I’d like to check in on my parents,” I say, and before I get the last word out Becks is already shaking his head.
“Pull over,” I order.
Becks flicks a glance at me, his brows high on his forehead. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
His abs are safely hidden underneath his soft heather gray t-shirt, so I’m not a flustered mess anymore. At least not much. I still have to contend with his perfectly symmetrical and chiseled face, but I won’t let it sway me.
“Haven—” he starts, but I cut him off with a firm, “Now.”
With a sigh, Becks steers the SUV off to the shoulder. After throwing it in park, he turns in his seat to look at me.
Do not be affected by the hotness, Haven. If you don’t assert yourself now, he’s going to walk all over you.
Even with the internal pep talk, I pick a spot in between his brows to stare at rather than his piercing green eyes.
“I want to acknowledge that I understand that you are trying to protect me, and in order to do that, we have to keep a low profile . . . ”
Becks cocks his head, like he didn’t expect me to lead with that, but I know he’s not going to love what comes next.
“But having said that, I’m my own person and I’m not okay with you making decisions and expecting me to go along, all ‘Sir, yes, sir.’ I’m taking our situation very seriously. I’d like to think we can work together, but less than twelve hours ago I left my dad lying on the floor, bleeding out.”
As I’m talking, my eyes start to sting, and I hate that. I wish I could stand my ground without getting emotional to show him how strong I am, but the thought of my dad with a knife buried in his side is too much.
“I don’t just want to know that he’s okay. I need to know. Do you understand?”
The glower that was starting to form on Becks’ face softens as our eyes finally connect.
Sighing again, he runs a hand through his hair, sending the golden and honey strands in wild directions. My hands itch to see if those locks are as soft as they look, so I clench them in my lap as I wait for his response.
What he says next is going to dictate if this partnership is going to work. Because if he just expects me to blindly follow orders without having a say, he has another thing coming.
Finally, he nods. “I was going to wait a few days, but I can pick up a burner phone and reach out to Talon.” When he sees my immediate smile, he’s quick to add, “But this can’t be a regular thing, okay? Every interaction we have until we figure out if there’s a traitor in the Order is a risk.”
I clap my hands together and give a little happy shoulder shimmy, relieved that he isn’t fighting me on this.
“What was that?” he asks, arching a single brow.
“What?”
He points at me, his finger moving back and forth between my shoulders. “That little shake thing you did.”
Heat shoots to my cheeks yet again, and I wonder if I’ll ever not blush in front of this man.
“That was my happy dance,” I say, ducking my head.
“Hmm,” he answers, and I glance up to find a half-smile on his face. “Cute.”
With that, he puts the SUV in drive, and smoothly pulls us back on the road, completely oblivious to how flustered his casual sweetness leaves me.