Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
AVA
Is it considered stalking if it’s for work? Swiping my thumb over my phone screen, I go over the most recent news on Congressman Thorne. Nothing out of the ordinary. His social media still makes my skin crawl.
It’s not ten in the morning and I’m already done with my day.
I stretch on the couch, raising the phone over my head. My phone beeps with a text.
Steve: rents due
My heartbeat kicks up. The audacity. I can’t believe that’s the message. There’s no hi, how are you doing, are you still alive? . Only demands. As usual.
Ava: rent was due two days ago. ive been paying for it for the past year, you could take this month.
Steve: oh so now you expect me to cover your half?
Ava: ive been covering yours forever
Steve: thats a lie and you know this
Anger boils in my blood. I open my email app and start to search for the wire transfers of the past months to prove it to him.
Which is stupid, because I know it would change nothing.
Steve: doesnt matter. you know im in a rough spot. rent is crazy expensive now and i have to buy all my stuff again after you ruined everything
Ava: the only thing that belongs to you and was ruined was your gaming console
Ava: and im the one who gave it to you as a birthday gift
Steve: bullshit. you know i bought it.
I throw my hands up. What’s his problem? Once more, I open my email app and now I go through my emails after the order for the gaming console.
Then I stop.
I know Steve’s lying. He’s just gaslighting me to make me do what he wants.
I take a deep breath.
Ava: look, i know rent is crazy, and i know the break-in is my fault. im really sorry about it. thats why i havent asked you to leave. you can stay while im up here with archer. but at least pay the rent.
Steve: for real???
Ava: and we are over, but dont fuck anyone on my bed, please
I hit send with a satisfying jab. Asshole. I’ve been with Steve for years, but it feels like my life is stuck in neutral while he coasts along for the ride.
God, what I wouldn’t give for a glass of cold beer.
As if reading my mind, a text from Archer lights up my screen.
Archer: is dante up? hes not replying to my texts
Ava: maybe hes tired of your weird sense of humor
Archer: impossible. my sense of humor is flawless.
Archer: we have a club meeting later. if you remind him, ill pay you a beer
Ava: youre the best brother
Archer: i know
I heave myself off the couch with a groan. Dante’s probably still passed out, which is odd compared to the other days. He’s usually up before me.
I make my way down the hall and rap my knuckles against his bedroom door. No response. I twist the knob and the door opens without a sound into Dante’s room.
The room is the same size as Archer’s, but meticulously organized—a stark contrast to the chaos of Archer’s space. There are no shoes on the floor, his wallet and phone are over the nightstand. On a shelf in the far wall, there’s a collection of bike helmets. Some of them look pretty old, but all are well taken care of.
My eyes land on Dante’s sleeping form and my breath catches. His bed is a queen size, like Archer’s, but he takes a good chunk of it. The man is big . He’s sprawled on his back, sheets tangled around his waist, leaving his chiseled torso bare.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. My blood pressure spikes.
Dante is huge everywhere . He’s muscular, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. Every part of him is defined muscle. My fingers itch to touch his chest, feel the hair there. An electric undercurrent buzzes within my chest.
I perch gingerly on the edge of the bed, doing my best not to stare. Damn. Even in sleep, he’s ridiculously hot. I clear my throat.
“Dante?”
Nothing. I reach out and touch his shoulder. The skin-to-skin sensation makes my head light.
Dante’s eyes snap open. I jerk in surprise. His fingers close around my hand.
Before I can blink, he’s grabbed me and flipped me onto the bed. I gasp in surprise as my back hits the mattress. His body pins mine to the mattress. Hard. My heart hammers against my ribs as his sleep-fogged eyes meet mine.
For a moment, we’re both frozen, his weight pressing into me in all the right places. The air between us crackles with tension.
I should not be enjoying this.
But holy shit. Dante is on top of me, his hard body molded against mine. I can feel every inch of him, from his muscular thighs bracketing my hips to the firm plane of his chest crushing my breasts. His skin is sleep-warm and faintly musky, and I have the sudden urge to bury my face in his neck and inhale.
I can also feel his morning wood. Very , very clearly.
I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing. My mind goes hazy. Dante blinks, clarity seeping into his gaze. He curses under his breath and quickly rolls off me. I hold back a whimper at the last second.
“Fuck, Ava. I’m sorry.”
He scrubs a hand over his face and I scramble into a sitting position, my cheeks burning. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“It’s fine,” I mumble, not meeting his eyes. “I, uh… Archer wanted me to remind you of the meeting later.”
Dante nods, but he doesn’t look at me. My body still thrums with awareness as I rush out of the room.
I busy myself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the fact that my panties are embarrassingly damp. Stupid sexy Dante and his stupid sexy almost-naked body.
A few minutes later, Dante pads into the kitchen, now clad in a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a t-shirt. These gray sweatpants might end me.
Dante rakes a hand through his rumpled hair. “Sorry again. Guess I’m a little on edge these days.”
I take a big gulp of coffee. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have barged in like that. I imagine shifters are always on high alert, with the way you guys get hunted and all. Must be rough.”
Dante says nothing for a moment, so I dare to look up. He stares at me, something like surprise flickering across his face.
“Yeah, it is,” he says slowly. “Not many humans really get that.”
“But everyone should,” I tell him. “I can’t just sit back while injustice happens. That’s the whole reason I’m doing this investigation on Thorne.”
Dante hums in agreement, then walks into the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with a PB&J sandwich and a cup of coffee.
“This passion of yours,” he says, his words tentative, “is it because of some shifter friend or something?”
I shake my head. “You’re actually the first shifter I’ve met. Well, knowingly, at least. I just think you all deserve basic rights, same as anyone else.”
“Really?” Dante arches an eyebrow. “First shifter?” He sits next to me on the couch.
I half-turn to face him. “Yeah. You can imagine I have a thousand questions.”
He gives me another curious glance. “Shoot it.”
“I don’t want to offend.”
“Then don’t.” His lips tilt. “Go on. Ask away.”
I lean forward, genuine curiosity bubbling up. “So like, the whole shifting thing—how does that work exactly? What’s your animal? How often do you need to... you know, let it out? Does it hurt?”
To my surprise, Dante actually chuckles. He finishes his sandwich in three bites, then crosses his arms over his chest as he chews. The action makes his biceps bulge in a way that has my mouth going dry.
Get it together, Ava.
“Well, I’m a wolf. You saw that.”
“But, like, what kind of wolf?”
He scoffs. “I don’t know. A brown wolf?”
“That’s just the color.” I can’t help but laugh. “No matter. What else?”
“I try to shift a few times a week, go for a run in the woods. It’s why I live out here, near the forest.” His eyes take on a distant, almost wistful look. “When I’m in my wolf form, everything else just... falls away. No more worries, no more looking over my shoulder. Just freedom.”
“Wow.” I rest my chin in my palm, utterly fascinated. “What’s your favorite part?”
Dante’s lips quirk. He tells me about the best and worst parts. He tells me about controlling his wolf, and how he first felt the animal inside him when he was a teenager. He tells me about weird experiences, and bad experiences, and the prejudice. I absorb everything he tells me, yearning for more.
When we look up, the sun is already leaning toward the west. We completely missed lunch. I don’t even know if I’ve ever lost track of time chatting with someone.
“Shit,” Dante hisses, but there’s a small smile on his face. “We can’t miss the meeting.” He checks his phone. “Can you be ready in fifteen?”
A short while later, we’re stepping out into the crisp late afternoon air. I’ve swapped my pajamas for black leggings, boots, and a top that hugs my chest. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone. Nope.
I don’t mind how Dante does a double take, though.
Dante, in full biker regalia, is a sight to behold. Tight black jeans hug his muscular thighs, topped with a plain white tee that strains across his chest. His customary black leather jacket is slung over his broad shoulders, and black combat boots complete the look.
He strides over to his motorcycle, a sleek Harley that gleams in the sunlight. I take a beat to admire him straddling the bike. I mean. Admire the bike. Not him.
Dante catches me staring. “You like it?”
My face blooms with heat. “Mm…”
“Your brother’s been working on it on and off. It’s stunning, isn’t it?”
I blink twice. Dante runs a reverent hand over the handlebars, a small smile playing on his lips. He glances over at me, something unreadable in his eyes.
Oh, yeah, we’re talking about the bike.
“Yeah,” I quickly add. “Bike looks… great.” God, please, don’t let him notice how my cheeks are bright red.
“Want me to teach you how to ride it?”
My heart stutters in my chest. “What?”
Dante takes a beat, then licks his lips. “Do you want to learn how to ride it?” And his eyelids lower, growing heavy.
Is he... flirting with me? No, surely not. He’s just being nice. Right?
“Really? You’d let me ride your baby?” I try to play it cool, but I can’t quite keep the excitement from my voice.
Dante shrugs, that little half-smile still in place. “Sure. In case you ever need it. No one knows.” He offers a hand. I take it. He helps me straddle the bike.
In front of him.
Dante proceeds to show me the basics—how to start the engine, work the clutch andthrottle, shift gears. His large hands cover mine as he guides me through the motions, his solid body a warm presence at my back.
I do my best to focus on his instructions, but it’s hard with the way his touch seems to burn through me, igniting something deep in my core.
Chill out, Ava. You’ve just left a long-term relationship. He’s your brother’s best friend. He’s just being nice.
By the time we’re ready to actually hit the road, my heart is pounding, and not just from the thrill of learning to ride.
“Perfect. Let’s go then. One last thing.” He puts his helmet over my head and tightens the strap under my chin.
“What about you?” I ask.
He shakes his head and says nothing else. For some reason, even his silence makes my stomach do funny things.
As Dante revs the engine and we go roaring off down the road, I can’t help the giddy laughter that bubbles out of me. The wind whips past us. Dante’s solid warmth anchors me, and for a moment, I forget all about the craziness of the past few days. For a moment, I’m just a girl on top of a motorcycle, with her man behind her. For a moment, I savor the fantasy.
Even if it doesn’t last.