Chapter 37
Violet
“For the record,” Char says, tossing a piece of popcorn at my face from the other end of the couch, “I’m still pissed it’s taken you this long to invite me over.”
“Shut up,” I laugh, batting it away. “If you would’ve asked, I would’ve invited you.”
She rolls her eyes, sprawling even deeper into the couch cushions. “I shouldn’t have to ask, it was implied.”
I snort a laugh, lobbing a piece of popcorn from my own bowl in her direction.
We’ve been camped out here for hours– legs tangled, the coffee table a warzone of abandoned snacks, and the glow of the TV washing over us as yet another episode of Real Housewives plays in the background.
It’s easy. Familiar. Like slipping into an old favorite hoodie.
I didn’t realize how much I missed this until she got here.
When I first moved into the Tower, I never would’ve pictured myself being so at home in this apartment– let alone being comfortable enough to have my best friend over for a trash TV marathon– but here we are.
“So, about that spare bedroom…” Charlotte murmurs conspiratorially, gaze flickering toward the hall.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to live with the Commander,” I say with a chuckle. “He’s allergic to anything messy. You’d last maybe two days before he snapped.”
She gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. “I am not messy!”
I stare back at her, deadpan.
Char holds my gaze for all of two seconds before dissolving into laughter, sitting up and brushing popcorn crumbs off her lap. “Okay, maybe a little,” she admits. “But so are you.”
“Yeah, but I just distract him from the mess with sex,” I say flippantly, waving her off.
She leans forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.
I narrow my gaze. “Don’t even think about it,” I snarl.
She laughs again, bright and wild. “Calm down, you know I’d never. Put your wolf away.”
I belatedly realize how close my inner animal is to the surface. “Sorry,” I mutter, shoving my wolf back down so the silver bleeds out of my irises. “She’s just a tad possessive.”
“Only her?” Char teases, cocking her head.
I flip her the bird, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks as I rapidly change the subject. “How’s the new roommate working out?”
“Eh, she’s fine,” Char mumbles noncommittally. “But it’s not the same as living with you. She leaves post-its everywhere to label things as hers, like it’d be a travesty if I used a splash of her milk in my coffee.”
I snort, shaking my head. Charlotte has never had much of a grasp on personal boundaries, so I’m sure her new roomie is just loving that.
“I dragged my feet for as long as I could before having someone else move in,” she adds. “Just in case you needed an escape plan.”
My stomach dips. “I appreciate that,” I murmur, meaning it with my whole chest. “Things here were touch and go for a while.”
“But not anymore,” she replies quickly, smiling coyly as she nudges my leg with her foot. “I’m glad it worked out with you and Kane.”
I look away as I feel a blush rise to my cheeks. “Yeah. Me too.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at the mention of my mate, followed by the sound of the apartment door swinging open, like I summoned him by thought alone. My wolf rises up instantly, the pull of our bond snapping taut, humming under my skin.
I sit up slightly without even meaning to, my body already reacting before my brain can catch up. Footsteps echo down the hall, heavy and familiar, then he appears and my heart skips a damn beat.
I swear the man gets more attractive every time I see him. His broad shoulders fill the width of the hallway, dark t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, jacket sleeves clinging to his biceps in a way that should honestly be illegal.
“Ladies,” he greets, tipping his head before shrugging out of his jacket.
I can’t help it– my eyes track the movement. The flex of muscle, the roll of his shoulders, the easy, controlled power in every inch of him.
My stomach flips, thighs pressing together.
God, he’s gorgeous.
Char instantly reacts to his presence, too. I glance over just in time to see her scramble upright, sliding the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table and smoothing her hair like she’s about to meet a celebrity.
“Hi, Commander Kane,” she greets brightly, suddenly all polite and composed. “I’m Charlotte, Vi’s friend from–”
“I know who you are,” Kane cuts in with a low chuckle, crossing the room and offering her his hand. “My mate’s told me a lot about you.”
She lights up, slipping her hand into his. “All good things, I hope.”
“Of course,” he says, flicking a glance at me. The corner of his mouth lifts in a subtle smirk, and I smirk right back. “What’ve you two been up to all day?” he asks, glancing between us.
I gesture vaguely to the TV, the snacks, and the general state of chaos. “You’re looking at it. Needed a day to rot before I start at Eclipse next week.”
“Fair,” he murmurs, sidestepping toward my end of the couch. He catches my jaw as he leans down, angling my face up to his and pressing a kiss to my mouth. It’s brief, but my body leans into it on instinct and the heat it leaves behind lingers.
When he pulls back, I find Char watching us with hearts in her eyes.
“Ugh, you two are disgustingly cute,” she groans, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger as she gazes up at Kane. “You don’t happen to have any hot friends you could set me up with, do you?”
Kane huffs a quiet laugh. “Friendships aren’t really my thing.”
“Well,” I cut in, unable to resist, “he does have a brother…”
Char’s head snaps toward me, eyes sparkling with interest.
Kane’s gaze follows a second later. The look he gives me is subtle, but sharp enough to land. A warning to drop it.
Right.
My stomach twists as I just shrug and wave a hand dismissively, playing it off like it’s nothing. It’s safer not to talk about Whit at all than risk letting something slip about who he really is, but I hate having to keep things from my best friend. Especially something this huge.
Someday.
Once this revolution plays out– if it actually works– then I can tell her everything. I just hope it moves a hell of a lot faster than Kane’s anticipating, because I feel guilty as hell keeping secrets from Char.
She must sense the shift in the air, because she stretches her arms above her head, pushing up off the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to your domestic bliss.”
“What bliss?” I snort.
“Fine, whatever it is you do,” she replies with a wink. “Make babies or something. It’s almost the full moon, after all…”
My pulse stutters, Kane going still beside me. We exchange a look– quick and loaded.
Char grabs her purse and heads for the door, blissfully unaware of the bomb she just dropped. Kane follows her out, and I listen to the two of them exchange polite goodbyes before the door opens and closes, the deadbolt turning over before he returns to join me in the living room.
He drops down on the couch beside me with a tired exhale, lifting my legs and settling them across his lap. “She seems nice,” he comments as his hands close around my feet, thumbs pressing into the arches and working in slow, firm circles.
“Mhmm,” I hum, melting deeper into the cushions.
“I guess we’ve never really talked about it,” he says after a beat.
“About what?” I ask, even though I already know.
His hands don’t pause, but his sharp gaze flicks up to meet mine. “About pups.”
My throat tightens and I look away, suddenly very interested in the TV.
“Do you want them?” he asks.
I hesitate, then deflect. “Do you?”
He blows out a slow breath, pausing as if considering how to respond. “No, not really,” he grumbles. “But if it’s something you want, I’d consider it.”
Relief hits so fast it almost makes me dizzy. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, turning back to meet his gaze. “Good, because I don’t either,” I say, then frown as my mind starts working overtime. “Wait. Why don’t you?”
His hands slow slightly, thumbs easing their pressure before he resumes rubbing my arches. “With the way the pack is right now, I can’t imagine bringing kids into it,” he murmurs.
Makes sense.
“And,” he adds, almost as an afterthought, “I pretty much raised Whit after our parents died. Don’t think I did a great job of it.”
I huff a soft laugh, nudging his arm with my heel. “I highly doubt that. You’ve got stern, overprotective dad written all over you.”
He scoffs a quiet laugh.
“You’d be fine,” I add, my smile fading. “Me, not so much. Given my track record of life in general, it’s pretty much a guarantee that I’d screw it up.”
His hands tighten around my foot. “You wouldn’t,” he replies firmly.
I roll my eyes, not fully convinced but not arguing, either.
“Well,” I say, letting a smirk creep back in, “I’m fine with being the only one who gets to call you Daddy.”
His hands go still, something dark and heated flickering behind his gaze. That reaction sends a little thrill through me every damn time.
“Keep talking like that and you know what’ll happen,” he warns, voice low.
I laugh, waving him off. “Just make sure you pull out. Char’s right, the full moon’s coming fast.”
He nods, understanding the implication. She-wolves ovulate with the full moon, so since we’re on the same page about not having pups, we shouldn’t take any chances tempting fate.
It’s quiet for a beat, then Kane reaches for the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “So, what are we watching?” he asks, grabbing a handful like we didn’t just have a whole life conversation sandwiched between trash TV and foot rubs.
“We were binging Real Housewives,” I tell him, shrugging. “But you can change it.”
He glances at the screen. “Is this the same one we watched before, with the women who pretend to be friends and talk shit behind each other’s backs?”
“Mhmm,” I confirm.
He leans back into the couch, tossing an arm up over the cushions. “Leave it on. I’ve been wondering how things panned out after that blonde skipped her friend’s baby shower to get lip fillers.”
I grin, something warm settling in my chest as I curl into him a little more, letting his presence and scent wrap around me.
It should scare me how good this feels, how natural and in sync we’ve become.
Instead, I just relax and enjoy it. Because this place– this man– feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever been.