Chapter 26
Bastian dropped me off with a warning to stay inside, then sped off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I checked Teddy’s food, cleaned his litter box, then curled up with a book. A couple of hours passed before I was seeking out my phone. I had two missed calls from Vivi. I called her back.
“Jeez, Rose! Did you die?!” she asked, picking up on the first ring.
“Sorry!” I said a little sheepishly. “Been preoccupied.”
“With that hot goblin guy, huh?” she teased. I rolled my lips between my teeth, contemplating what to say. The silence was telling enough. “Oh. My. God! You have been, haven’t you?”
“I’m in way over my head,” I admitted.
“All right, spill. I want all the details—wait, did you guys kiss?! Tell me you kissed.”
“Ugh.” I let a silence stretch out and then—“Yes, all right. We kissed, and…did some other stuff, too.”
Her shriek was so loud I had to pull the phone away. “Okay, you owe me details. I want everything!”
So, I spent the next thirty minutes telling her what was going on with Bastian. I glossed over some of the stuff we’d done, since that felt private, even when she pushed me for more. I focused on what had happened during the pool incident, how he hadn’t allowed me to reciprocate.
“Huh,” she said at last. “It sounds like he’s pretty conflicted.”
“One minute he’s all over me, the next he’s all, ‘If you lay a finger on my cock, I’m going to fuck you.’ Actually… It was pretty hot, but still.”
“Wait, he said that?”
I bit my lip before allowing a full blown smile to unfurl. “I think it was more like, ‘I’m going to bend you over the side of the pool and fuck your fucking brains out.’”
“Oh, my God!” she breathed. “I don’t think anyone has ever said anything that hot to me. Ever.”
Muscles twitched low in my abdomen, just recalling how those words had made me feel.
“He clearly wants you, but he’s afraid to have sex because he’s afraid of getting too close and being all possessive and whatnot. But I gotta say, that’s pretty hot. I’m all about possessive dominant men—shit, I mean, the kinds that don’t hurt you. The sexy dominance, not like the…”
I winced. “Yes, yes, I know what you’re trying to say.” We both read plenty of werewolf smut. “Honestly, I thought I would never be into dominant guys after Luke. But…” My grip tightened on the phone. “Bastian is different.”
“From the little I’ve heard, he sounds completely different. Rose… I don’t think he’d ever hurt you, not like that. Not based on what you’ve told me.”
“I don’t think he would either.” Somehow I'd known it from the moment I laid eyes on him. When my insides had turned hot at the sight of him. Which was why it was easier to be sassy around him, even during that first moment, covered in coffee. Yes, there’d been a few gut reactions when he’d gotten too close. But I’d pulled myself together.
I sighed and said, “The only problem is, my conscience keeps telling me that my judgment is compromised. That just because I feel like he won’t hurt me, doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“Well, maybe not in the same way,” Vivi pointed out.
And she was probably right. There were many ways to break a heart, and Bastian probably excelled at most of them.
Sure, he wouldn’t lay a finger on me, would never physically harm or demean me, but that wouldn’t stop the pain when it came.
There was no way things wouldn’t end badly between us, me being human and him being… what he was.
“I’m like a moth with a flame.” I groaned at the admission. “I know he’s capable of burning me. I know it deep in my bones. And yet, I just don’t fucking care. For once, I just don’t.”
“Then go for it,” Vivi said. “What if… What if you don’t and end up regretting it for the rest of your life? You don’t want this to be something you look back on and wonder, what if? You know?”
“I know,” I whispered.
She was right. I wanted to lean in to the attraction between me and Bastian. To explore it more. Even if he’d pushed me away yesterday.
We chatted for a few more minutes. She filled me in on her sister, and how she was doing post break-up. I warned her not to come home until I’d had a chance to fix the apartment and take care of the Luke situation, then we hung up.
In the wake of our conversation, the house felt too quiet. Too much of what we’d said spun through my mind. Sighing, I went to my room and changed into some workout gear, then took my phone downstairs and plugged it into the sound system.
When Bastian hadn’t returned by dinner, I took matters into my own hands.
I wasn’t an outstanding cook by any means, but I could whip up fresh Alfredo sauce, which was by far my specialty.
I mean, it was hard to screw up a cream and parmesan base.
I prided myself in elevating it with red pepper flakes and fresh garlic.
I also found several steamer bags of veggies in the freezer.
I selected the peas, then grilled up some frozen chicken breast.
I found crusty sourdough in the pantry that would make a perfect pairing. For a single guy who shopped twice a week, he seemed to keep a stocked kitchen. He’d had everything I needed, and more.
Except, where did he keep the wine—?
The purr of an engine and rumble of the garage door made me freeze in the middle of buttering the bread. I glanced down at the two slices, then grabbed two more. I’d made enough pasta for leftovers, but I hadn’t planned on him joining me. I popped them into the oven right as a door slammed.
“Damn, sugar. Look at you. Did you cook me dinner?”
I spun around and smiled, then my smile faltered. Bastian was spattered with mud and… “Is that blood?!”
I gaped at him.
He moved into the kitchen. “Not mine.”
“Whose?!” I demanded, immediately thinking of Luke.
“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little face over.” He inhaled before letting out a pleased groan. “You made me fresh Alfredo?”
“That depends…”
“On what?”
“Whether you answer my question.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was work stuff. No one you know or should worry about. In fact, someone you shouldn’t spend an ounce of thought on.”
“Work as in WBI? Or your other thing?”
“My other thing,” he said, like it was no big deal.
I hesitated, looking him over from head to toe. “But…you’re okay?” Besides the blood and dirt, there were rips in his jeans, like he’d gotten into a fight and someone had used a knife.
“Fine as ever. Even better once I eat.”
I pulled my shoulders back. “You’re not eating in that state. Go clean yourself up first, it will hold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave me a two-finger salute, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, then disappeared.
I resumed my search, looking for where he might keep his bottles of wine. I hadn’t spotted any kind of wine rack. I tried not to think about Bastian going head-to-head with someone dangerous. Tried, and failed.
My nipples tightened to points at the image in my mind. It was freaking hot, the thought of him wielding weapons and his fists.
“Whatcha doing in here, sugar?” I jumped, swearing under my breath as I spun around.
“I was looking for the wine,” I squeaked, gaping at the sight of him.
He’d cleaned up quickly, now dressed in a black button down, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows displaying his ropy forearms and the tattoos that covered them.
He wore a fresh pair of denim jeans. My gaze snagged on his hair, braided back along his scalp.
God, it wasn’t fair that he should be so hot.
“You won’t find wine in the liquor cabinet.”
“Okay, well, I looked everywhere else!”
He chuckled. “Come here, I’ll show you. I keep my collection hidden, for obvious reasons.”
“Let me guess, because of all the six-thousand-dollar bottles?”
“More like the fifty-thousand dollar bottles. But yes, that’s exactly why,” he said, throwing me a grin.
All I could do was gape at him.
“Come on.” He led me to the hall and pressed his palm against a hidden panel.
The wall slid away, revealing a dark staircase.
A moment later, the stairwell illuminated with a soft yellow light.
He disappeared and I followed after him, descending into an undercroft.
“One of the selling points of the house,” he said from the bottom of the stairs.
“I made some modifications of my own, concealing the entrance and widening it into part of the basement.”
I emerged into a wine cellar, but unlike any I’d ever seen.
Not even in movies. The walls were lined with racks of wine, floor to ceiling.
The shelves were broken up with ancient looking wall sconces that burned with gas flames.
My mouth opened and closed as I turned in a wide circle.
It was the size of my living room at home, and something akin to an old-fashioned setting.
There was even a small dining set carved out of dark, richly varnished wood.
“You like?” he asked.
I jumped. He’d come up beside me. His gaze was assessing when I looked up.
“I love it,” I breathed. “What’s with the table?”
“Ah, for tastings and such.”
An idea came to me. “Do you think we could have dinner down here?”
Perhaps it was a bit too romantic a setting, but with our pasta and a bottle of wine, this little slice of heaven would be transportive.
“I think that’s a great idea. Why don’t you explore while I plate everything up?”
“Okay,” I managed. “Don’t forget the bread in the oven. I don’t want it to burn.”
“You got it, sugar.”
When I turned, he was already disappearing up the stairs.
I walked through the cellar examining the bottles.
There was a glass door at the end. I slipped through—right into a cooler room.
A shiver raced over my skin, welcome after the intensity of cooking in the kitchen.
No, more like the intensity of being in Bastian’s presence.
The lights were sensor activated. They clicked on and revealed another collection of chilled whites and dessert wines.