Chapter Seven
Rylee
My bedroom floor is covered with discarded clothes.
I’ve changed numerous times, and nothing has felt right.
After Ezra left, I spent some time with my plastic buddy, and it only made me more frustrated that it wasn’t him.
I’m not ready to sleep with him, but my body desperately wants him.
My mind has to catch up. The heat is fucking with me.
My skin itches without him near. I’m wet all the time.
My dreams were filled with his face, his hands, and his sexy mouth.
The barely there kiss at the door was sexier than anything I’ve experienced.
I’ve never desired a man just by being in the room with him.
Ezra has changed everything. He makes me feel delicate, needed, safe, and respected.
The most important fact is, I feel. I have taken control of my life after the hell I went through, yet I always have more work to do.
My short relationships since haven’t moved me to discover the depth of a man.
I’m curious about my mate. I want to know what makes him tick.
Why did he choose the profession he did?
I trip over the ties of a sundress and give up.
Sitting on the floor, I look around at the destruction.
I am not this person. I don’t struggle with finding the perfect outfit for a man.
I hate mess and clutter. I’ve been awake since six.
Picking out clothes has wasted an hour. Sliding my phone out of my pajama shorts, I stare at his number for the millionth time.
I don’t know where we are going or what we are doing.
I’ve thought about messaging him, but can’t make myself do it.
My anxiety is working through me, and it pisses me off.
Yes, he’s important. I want to have a loving relationship like everyone else, but I didn’t think it was possible for me.
I know I’m not damaged. The men who abused me are dead.
They got what they deserved, and I fucking deserve a life with love.
Ezra could be the perfect man to give me what I need.
He was hurt. I know it affected him more than he admitted.
I’ve regretted sending him away. What if he can’t get out of bed this morning?
What kind of pain is he going through? The strength it took him to act as if everything were normal is impressive.
Maybe I should call just to see if he’s better.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whisper, pressing my phone to my forehead.
“I killed a man. I can spend the day with my mate without having a meltdown.” Why am I messed up about this?
My confidence took a huge hit when I was younger, but I thought I gained it back in the years that followed.
The men I’ve been with since have been carefully selected.
This means something. Ezra is important. He could be mine.
Shit. We could belong to each other forever.
I tap my phone on my head. It rings as it connects, and I squeal, dropping it to the floor. I blink. He’s calling. I exhale slowly, pick it up, and clear my throat.
“Ezra,” I answer.
“Morning, baby,” he says, and I press my hand to my middle. I have butterflies swarming in my stomach. “How did you sleep?”
“Good. Really good.” I lick my lips, remembering the fantasy he starred in. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Back to normal.”
“I’m relieved,” I sigh.
“I was hoping you were awake. I had an idea, so I talked to Heath.”
“You did? I didn’t know you had his number.”
“I didn’t. I called Allie, she called Atlas, and he gave my number to Heath. He said the gym is closed today.”
“It is.” Heath wanted one day during the week when he could give his staff off. Sometimes the day rotates, but this Sunday no one is there.
“He said you have a key.”
“I do.”
“I’ll get breakfast and meet you there.”
“You want to eat in the gym,” I say slowly.
“I want you to show me what you love,” he says softly.
“Okay.” I move my hand to my heart, and I fear he can hear it through the phone.
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
I glance around me. “Yes.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“An hour,” I whisper.
“Bye, baby.”
I drop the phone and stare at it. How does he know how to make all the right moves? It would be annoying if it weren’t so fucking sweet.
“Shit,” I breathe, jumping to my feet.
I turn in a circle. Grabbing a pair of ripped cutoff shorts and a loose tank, I hustle to the bathroom. Luckily, I shaved yesterday. All I have to do is shower and put on makeup. I stare into the mirror. My panic is gone.
All I feel is excitement.
How? How is he so hot?
I park my car and stare at the man leaning against the side of his vehicle, a large bag in his hand.
His sunglasses are shielding his eyes, his arm is lying across the hood, and his ankles are crossed.
His black t-shirt is stretched across his well-defined chest. I didn’t see the tattoos covering his arms last night.
They are colorful, and I have the urge to trace them.
The jeans he wears are slightly loose, and if he lifted his arms, I would be able to see his abs.
So sexy. My mate oozes sexiness.
I turn off my car, and he walks toward it. I love the way he moves. The strength of his form is evident, and his stride is confident. I wait, enjoying the view, and using the few seconds to tell my body to calm down.
He grins and opens my door.
“I missed seeing your face,” he says, cupping the top of the frame. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” I smile, grab my purse, and stand. He steps back and waits for me to move out of the way before shutting the door. I press the lock, and he holds out his free hand.
“It’s an impressive building,” he says, and I lace my fingers with his. “He must use the space for more than fighting.”
“Yeah.” We walk toward the front door. “There is a traditional gym on one floor. He offers self-defense for women on the other."
“Admirable.”
“He would never describe himself that way,” I laugh, unlocking the door.
“Why?”
“Before we moved here, he had another business.” I enter the building and turn on the lights. “It was the same concept, but some of the fights were kill or be killed.” I wait as he closes the door, and then I lead the way through the building. “Most of the time, it was justified.”
“The other times?” he asks.
“When you put two feral shifters in the ring, you can’t always control what happens.
” I weave through the seats, walking toward the ring.
“Heath has always been misjudged. For a while, no one knew what he was. He is the mysterious man,” I say, my voice deep, and he grins.
“The people who fought were scared of him, and the crowd just wanted a glimpse of him. He didn’t watch all of the matches. ”
“He did yours,” he guesses.
“Always.” I stop outside the ring. “Once you are in his circle of trust, he’ll die for you.
He is brutal when betrayed. Men who abuse or steal from him should run to the other side of the world.
Mistakes are always made, though. He had Breeane kidnapped.
She is mated to three shifters in the family.
When they met, she was human and had an awful brother.
He stole from Heath.” I lean against the mat, and Ezra nods to the center of the ring.
I lift and roll inside. He hands me the bag and joins me as if he’s done it before.
“Was she hurt?” he asks, sitting.
I join him in the center.
“Yes, but by the men Heath trusted to bring her to him. He felt horrible and admitted he should have handled it better. I know he felt guilty. He killed one of the men because of it, and let them have the other.” I watch him unload the food.
“Hunter and Bane worked for him then, and saw everything. They are loyal to him, but would never hit a woman.”
“Has he been forgiven?” He lines up four containers and hands me water.
“Of course. He apologized and set things right. Breeane understood and encouraged her mates to forgive. Heath wasn’t the one who hit her. All he wanted to do was talk.”
He lifts two coffees out of the bag. He thought of everything.
“Did her brother take the bait?”
“Yes.”
“You respect him,” he hums.
“More than anyone,” I say softly, and he nods.
He gives me some plastic silverware and then opens a lid.
“Breakfast burritos and hash browns.” He reveals the last two. “Pancakes, because I love them.”
“Whipped cream and sprinkles.” I giggle.
“Always. I believe you should always indulge. My mom still makes me pancakes with heaping whipped cream. Sometimes she makes a smiley face with the sprinkles.” He dips his finger in the cream and holds it in front of my mouth. “You know you want to,” he drawls.
He’s ridiculous and very hard to resist.
I open my mouth and stare at him. He tilts his head and slides his finger between my lips.
His focus drops to my mouth, and I suck.
A slight growl rumbles in his chest, and I lick his finger once before releasing him.
He slowly lowers his arm, and I shift. Sweeping my legs to the side, I press my knees together and lean on my palm.
“Your mom indulges you.” I pick up my burrito.
“Yes, she does.” He cuts into the pancake. “So, what’s the difference between the fights?”
“Then, when shifters lost their humanity, they came to Heath. One woman lost it and killed her daughter.” He grimaces and takes a bite. “The girl was mated, and her mom had a moment of clarity. She volunteered to get in the ring with her daughter's mate.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” I lick sauce from my lips, and sit straight.
“Now?”
“It’s just like any other fight. There are rules, and the fighters make money if they win.
Shifters are against shifters. He does have some matches with humans.
Hunter and Bane are here to control the crowd and escort the winners and losers to the back.
We have shorter rounds, so the humans don’t know we heal faster, and Heath’s careful. ” I sip my coffee.
“Why do you love it?” he asks.
“That’s a complicated question,” I mumble.
“Is it?”