Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Anne
I stand frozen in the parking lot, my back still pressed against the car, fingers touching my lips like I can somehow capture the feeling there before it fades completely.
What the hell just happened?
The question echoes in my skull, along with my wolf’s happy howls, but I have no answer. No explanation that makes sense.
Kain kissed me.
He kissed me like he was starving, like a man possessed. Like a man who remembers exactly who I am and what we once were to each other. But then he just…walked away. Threw an infuriating comment at me about David and left me standing here trying to remember how to breathe.
My heart is still racing, my mouth still tingling, my wolf still singing inside me with a joy I don’t know what to do with.
But underneath all of that, underneath the shock and the confusion and the lingering heat, there’s anger. White-hot, burning anger that starts in my chest and spreads through my entire body until my hands are shaking with it.
Who does he think he is?
He told me he doesn’t remember me. Told me the mate bond is dead. Told me I’m nothing more than a coworker and whoever I thought he was doesn’t exist anymore.
And now, he’s kissing me like that? Acting like some jealous ex-lover who thinks he has the right to an opinion about whom I spend my time with?
I push off the car, my legs unsteady, and fumble with my keys. It takes three tries to get the door unlocked because my hands won’t stop trembling. I slide into the driver’s seat and grip the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles turn white.
The drive home is a blur of traffic lights and stop signs that I barely register. My mind keeps replaying the kiss—the way his hands felt on my waist, the way he pulled me against him like he couldn’t get close enough, the way he tasted, the sound he made when I bit his lip.
Stop it. Stop thinking about it.
But I can’t. It’s burned into my memory now, every second of it, every sensation. And the worst part is how much I wanted it. How much I still want it even though I should be furious with him.
By the time I pull up to my apartment, I’ve cycled through shock, confusion, anger, and back to shock at least five times.
I barely sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I feel his mouth on mine. Every time I start to drift off, I wake up with my heart pounding and his words echoing in my head.
“I bet David could never make you feel like this.”
Morning comes, too early and too bright. I drag myself through my routine on autopilot—shower, coffee, makeup to hide the shadows under my eyes. The drive to headquarters feels longer than usual, every red light an eternity.
I’m dreading seeing him. Dreading the moment when I have to look at those amber-gold eyes and pretend last night didn’t happen. Dreading the way my wolf will react when his scent hits me.
But when I get to my floor and settle in at my desk, he doesn’t appear. Not in the morning, not during my coffee break, not when I take my lunch to the break room and force myself to eat even though my stomach is in knots.
It’s almost worse, this absence. This waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My phone buzzes mid-afternoon, pulling my attention from the spreadsheet I’ve been staring at absently for the past twenty minutes. It’s a text from David.
Can you meet me on the roof? I have something for you.
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen.
David.
Guilt settles in my chest. He’s such a sweet guy; he got me flowers and offers me safety and clarity. We’re supposed to go out tomorrow night. But should I even be talking to him after kissing Kain like that last night?
I’m still staring at the text. I should say no. Tell him I’m busy or that meeting on the roof is inappropriate. Make up literally any excuse to avoid him.
Instead, I type back: I’ll be there in five minutes.
I get to the top floor and push through the door, stepping out into the bright sunlight. My mind immediately flashes back to the moment with Kain when he threw my cigarettes away, and I do my best to squash the thought.
David is already there, leaning against the half wall that edges the roof and looking out over the city. He turns his head when he hears the door close behind me, and his face lights up with that boyish smile of his.
“Hey, Anne. Thanks for coming up.”
“You said you had something for me?”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an envelope, which he holds out to me. “I hope you don’t think this is too much, but you mentioned that you love the play that’s coming to the theater downtown. The one about the star-crossed lovers?”
I take the envelope carefully, my fingers brushing against his. Inside are two tickets to Moonlight Sonata, the romantic tragedy I mentioned in passing while we were talking at the club. It’s been sold out for weeks.
“David, these must have cost a fortune.”
“Worth it.” His smile softens and looks even more genuine. “I know we haven’t even had our first date yet, but I thought maybe we could go together a week from Saturday. For our second date.”
It’s sweet. Thoughtful. Exactly the type of gesture that should make my heart flutter.
But all I can think about is Kain’s hands touching me and his mouth on mine, kissing me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
David steps closer, close enough that his scent envelops me; it’s woody and pleasant. I have to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact.
“You’re really beautiful, Anne,” he says softly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it. Every time I see you, I think about how lucky I am that you’re giving me a chance.”
Then, he leans down and kisses me.
It’s gentle, careful, a first kiss to test the waters. His lips are warm and soft, and he tastes faintly of mint.
I feel absolutely nothing. No spark. No flutter. No racing heart or breathless feeling or wolf singing inside me. This is how I would feel kissing cardboard: completely devoid of any sensation or emotion.
I don’t return the kiss. Can’t make myself reciprocate even though I should, even though this is what I said I wanted, even though David is a good man who deserves better than this.
He pulls back after a moment, his expression a mixture of hurt and resignation. “You really don’t like me?” he asks quietly, carefully.
“No! Oh no, David. It’s not that. You’re wonderful. You’re sweet and kind and any woman would be lucky to—”
“But you don’t feel anything for me.” It’s not a question. He knows. Can probably see it written all over my face.
Guilt crashes over me like a wave. “I want to. I really do. You’re everything I should want in a partner.”
“But?”
“But...” I trail off, not knowing how to finish that sentence without hurting him more.
David is quiet for a moment, studying my face. Then, he gives me a knowing, almost sad look.
“Is he a better kisser?”
My heart stops. “What?”
“Kain. The new head of security.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Is he a better kisser than me?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. “I don’t—How did you—”
“I saw you last night. In the parking lot.” He offers a small, tight smile. “I was leaving the building right then. Saw the whole thing, actually. It seemed very different from our kiss just now.”
Shame floods through me, hot and mortifying. “David, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see that. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. It was—”
“Explosive?” he supplies, and there’s no malice in his voice, just weary acceptance. “Yeah. I could tell from fifty feet away.”
“There’s nothing between us,” I say quickly, desperately. “He doesn’t feel anything for me. I don’t know why he acted like that—”
David cuts me off gently. “Anne, it’s okay. I know you don’t think of me in a romantic way.”
The truth of it sits heavily between us.
“Then why did you ask me out?” My voice comes out sounding small. “Why the flowers and the tickets and all of this if…”
“Because I’m hoping those feelings can grow over time.” He steps closer again, but this time there’s an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Because maybe, just maybe, if I try hard enough and show you how good we could be together, you’ll finally see me.”
“David—”
“Attraction doesn’t have to matter right now,” he says insistently. “I can tell that you’re attracted to him, but he clearly doesn’t know what he wants. I do. I want you.”
My throat tightens. “I don’t want to lead you on.”
“I don’t consider this leading me on.” He takes both my hands in his, holding them carefully, like they’re precious. “Give me a real chance. Don’t just agree to one date while your heart is somewhere else. Actually try with me.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Two months.” The words come out rushed, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t say them fast enough, he’ll lose his nerve.
“Give me two months to properly woo you. Let me take you on real dates, show you what it could be like with someone who wants to be with you. And if after two months you still don’t feel anything for me, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
I want to say no. Want to tell him it’s not fair to either of us, that my heart is too tangled up in Kain and ten years of grief to give anyone else an honest try.
But when I look at David—at his hopeful eyes and his genuine affection and his willingness to put himself out there despite knowing about Kain—I can’t bring myself to crush him completely.
Besides, maybe he’s right. Maybe two months of being with someone who actually wants me is exactly what I need to move on from a man who kissed me like I was everything and then walked away like I was nothing.
“Two months,” I hear myself say. “But I need you to understand that I can’t promise—”
“I’m not asking for promises.” He squeezes my hands gently. “I’m just asking for a chance. A real one.”
“Okay.” The word feels heavy leaving my mouth. “Two months.”
He breaks into a huge smile, hope and relief and what looks dangerously like joy lighting up his features. “Really?”
“Really. But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“After two months, if I still can’t feel anything, you have to walk away.”
“I promise.” He raises one hand like he’s taking an oath. “Two months, and if you’re not feeling it, I’ll bow out gracefully.”
“I guess we have a deal.”
David pulls me into a hug, and I let him, even though his embrace feels wrong in ways I can’t articulate. He’s taller than Kain, his shoulders broader, his scent completely different. Everything about him is different.
That’s the point, I remind myself firmly. You need different. You need someone who isn’t going to break your heart.