Chapter 4 #2
They walked in silence at first, their boots crunching through fresh powder. The snow had lightened to gentle flurries, and weak sunlight filtered through the clouds. She looked up at the sky, face soft with wonder.
"It's beautiful out here."
It was. But he wasn't looking at the trees.
"Tell me something about yourself," she said suddenly. "Something real. Not the grumpy mechanic act you put on for everyone else."
"It's not an act."
"It is, though." She stopped walking, turning to face him. "I've seen glimpses of the guy underneath. The who remembers I like cinnamon in my coffee and gives me plant care advice via text message." A small smile played at her lips. "Someone who's not as scary as everyone says."
"Jules—"
"You know things about me, Lex. You remembered the cinnamon. You knew I sometimes sleep at the shop when things get bad." Her eyes searched his face. "How do you know these things? We've barely spoken before this week."
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. He could lie. Could deflect. Could add another layer to the walls he'd built around himself.
Instead, something cracked.
"I've been watching you." The words came out rough, scraped raw. "For months. Before you came to the garage Monday."
She went very still. "What?"
"I know your routines." He couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the fear or disgust that was surely spreading across her face.
"Know you lock up the shop at exactly 6:15 on weekdays, 8:30 on Saturdays.
Know you get coffee at Java House every morning at 7:45.
Know you sing in your car when you think no one's looking. "
Silence. His heart hammered against his ribs.
"Why?" she finally whispered.
"Because I couldn't stay away." He forced himself to meet her eyes, and he knew he was showing her too much vulnerability in his own. "I tried. God knows I tried. But something about you..." He shook his head. "I'm drawn to you in ways I can't explain. In ways that aren't normal."
He waited for her to run. To call him a stalker, a creep, all the things he'd called himself a thousand times.
Instead, her voice came out steady. "Maybe I don't want normal."
"You should stay away from me." The words tore out of him. "You should run. I'm not... I'm not safe."
She studied him for a long moment. Standing there in the snow, he knew how he must look to her. Tatted, dark, and dangerous. A man who'd just admitted to tracking her every move like a predator.
But she didn't run. She stepped closer.
"There's good in you, Lex." Her voice was soft but certain. "I see it."
"You see only what I let you see."
"Then let me see more."
They were close now, close enough that he could see the snowflakes catching in her lashes. His hand came up, hovering near her face but not quite touching.
"If I do," he said quietly, "there's no going back. Once you know... everything changes."
"Everything's already changing." She caught his hand, pressing it to her cheek. Her skin was cold from the winter air, but her eyes were warm. "And I don't even know your middle name."
He made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "It's Mitchell."
"Lex Mitchell Chapman." She smiled, and it broke something in him. "Very distinguished."
"My family would disagree." His thumb stroked her cheekbone without his permission. "They think I'm reckless. Stubborn. Too willing to break rules."
"What rules?"
His hand dropped. "The kind that keep people safe."
And just like that, the walls slammed back into place. He stepped away, the mask of control sliding over his features.
"We should get back. It's getting colder."
She didn't argue this time, but he could feel her eyes on him the whole walk back. Could feel the questions she wasn't asking, the patience that somehow made everything worse.
The rest of the day passed in strained silence. Lunch. More pretending to read. Dinner. The tension between them had shifted, become something heavier. She knew now. Not everything, but enough to make her curious for more.
By evening, she announced she was going to bed early. He didn't blame her.
"Goodnight, Lex."
"Goodnight, Jules."
She disappeared down the hall. A moment later, he heard the guest room door close, then her footsteps going across the hall to the bathroom. When the shower turned on, he groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
His phone lit up with a text from Adam:
How's it going? You two getting along?
Lex typed back:
I'm going to kill you. Slowly. And painfully.
Adam:
You're welcome! Stop being a coward and tell her how you feel.
He deleted the conversation with a savage jerk of his thumb and stretched out in his chair. He stared into the crackling fire, watching the orange embers pulse.
There was absolutely no way he could sleep. Not tonight.
Not while breathing the same air as her. Not with his wolf pacing restlessly just beneath his skin, demanding he get up, walk down that hall, and bury himself in her warmth.
Mine. Go to her. Claim.
The beast didn't understand hesitation. It didn't understand why he was sitting here miserable instead of curled around the woman meant for him.
But the man understood. Getting involved with a human wasn't just frowned upon, it was a logistical nightmare wrapped in centuries of pack law designed to keep their existence secret and their mates safe. Dragging a human into their world was selfish. Dangerous.
Sure, it had happened twice already in Snow Ridge. Riko had Addison, and Adam had Faye. They made it look possible, if not easy. But just because they'd done it didn't mean the stigma was erased overnight.
Maybe someday that would change. Riko was a progressive alpha. But "someday" wasn't tonight. Tonight, Lex was just a grumpy bastard stuck in a chair, paralyzed by ancient instincts clashing with terrifyingly modern emotions, while the woman he wanted more than his next breath slept alone.
From down the hall, he heard her settle into bed. The rustle of sheets. A soft sigh.
Then, so quiet a human wouldn't have heard it, she murmured his name.
His wolf howled.
Three more days minimum of this exquisite torture.
He wouldn't last. He knew he wouldn't last. Jules deserved better than a wolf who couldn't control himself. Better than the complications of pack politics and secrets.
But as he sat there listening to her breathe, he knew the truth he'd been avoiding all day.
He was already hers. Had been from the moment he first saw her.
The only question now was whether he'd be brave enough to tell her.