Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Kain
I know I told Anne that I’d leave her alone, but that was a lie. I’ve already told so many, an extra one couldn’t hurt. It was merely my way of conceding for the night. For the weekend, even.
On Monday, I was back to putting my all into fixing things between us. More importantly, I was back to making sure that David’s chances were next to zero.
Today marks three days of making absolutely sure he understands that I want Anne and am not backing down. Although she is still angry with me, I have no intention of giving up. In fact, it’s the exact opposite.
Every move David makes, I counter. Every gesture, I upstage.
I’m there to walk her to her car every night after work, not caring that David is waiting and clearly trying to speak with her.
When he brought Anne coffee two mornings ago, I had her favorite sandwich delivered to her desk an hour later—roast turkey and avocado on rye with extra mayo, no tomatoes.
The same order she brought to my office weeks ago when she was still trying to figure out if I felt the mate bond.
I watched her stare at it, confusion flickering across her face before she carefully wrapped it back up and put it in her bag.
When David held the conference room door open for her yesterday, I helped carry her files back to her desk afterward. Made sure to brush her hand when I took the stack from her, saw the way her breath caught even as she glared at me.
David’s frustration has been growing more obvious by the day. I can see it in the tightness around his eyes, the way his jaw clenches when he sees me near her.
Good.
Today, when he tried to ask her to lunch, I made sure he suddenly had an urgent security briefing to attend. Then, I called Anne to my office under the pretense of needing her input on updated badge protocols.
She came, but the look she gave me could have melted steel.
“There are no updated badge protocols,” she said flatly.
“There could be,” I replied. “We should discuss it over lunch.”
She walked out without saying another word to me. But she didn’t have lunch with David, either.
Small victories.
Now it’s late afternoon, and I’m reviewing security footage when I notice Anne heading toward the stairwell that leads to the roof. A minute later, David follows.
My wolf snarls. My hands clench into fists.
I give them sixty seconds. Then, I follow.
The rooftop door is heavy, but I ease it open quietly and catch the tail end of what is clearly an argument.
“—can’t keep doing this, Anne!” David’s voice is frustrated, angry. “You said you’d give me two months. Two months to prove I could make you happy. But how am I supposed to do that when he’s—”
“I know,” Anne says, and she sounds tired. Defeated. “I know, David. I’m sorry.”
“Are you? Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’re watching us compete, and I’m the one losing.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” He lets out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “He follows you around like a shadow. Sends you flowers. Interrupts every conversation we have. And you let him!”
“I’ve told him to stop—”
“Not convincingly.” David’s voice drops. “I can see it, Anne. The way you look at him. You never look at me like that.”
The silence that follows is damning.
“I’m sorry,” Anne finally whispers.
“Yeah.” Footsteps move toward me. “Me too.”
I step back just in time for the door to swing open. David storms through, and when he sees me standing here, his expression turns cold and furious.
“Even now, you followed us here.” His voice is bitter as he laughs dryly. “I can’t believe this.”
I don’t say anything. I keep my face neutral, but the challenge is surely clear in my gaze.
David looks at me for a few more seconds, then he shakes his head. “You win. I’m not doing this shit anymore.”
He brushes past me, and I smile as I watch him go.
Because he’s right.
I do win.
I push through the door and step out onto the rooftop. Anne is standing near the edge, arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the city skyline. The wind blows her hair around her face. She looks conflicted—and maybe a little guilty.
She is too kind. It’s not as if his broken heart is her responsibility.
“So,” I say, trying to sound disinterested. “Seems like David has given up.”
Her head whips toward me, and the rage in her eyes is immediate and scorching.
“You,” she hisses.
She blows past me, heading for the door, and I fall into step right behind her.
Inside, she aims for the elevator at first, but midway, she seems to realize that would mean being stuck in there with me with no way to escape. She spins toward the stairwell instead and yanks the door open violently.
“You should take the elevator,” I say, following her. “It’s a long way down.”
“If we weren’t coworkers,” she snaps without looking back, her footsteps echoing off the concrete stairs, “and if it wouldn’t be an HR violation, I would slap you for continuing to follow me around.”
“I’ll take the slap,” I say calmly. “I won’t report you.”
Anne stops so abruptly on the next landing, I nearly run into her. She whirls on me, and there are tears in her bright, furious eyes.
“Why?” Her voice breaks on the word. “Why did you have to ruin this for me?”
“Ruin what?”
“Don’t act dumb!” She’s shouting now, and I can hear the pain beneath the anger. “David could see it clearly. He knew you were competing with him. I had promised to give him a chance to get me to fall in love with him.”
The words reverberate in the stairwell.
“You would never have loved him,” I say quietly.
“You don’t know that!” She’s crying now, the tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get to decide that for me!”
I step closer, and she doesn’t move away. Just stands there, trembling with emotion.
“You’re right,” I say softly. “I don’t know for certain. But I do know David would never have been right for you.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. The fight seems to drain out of her all at once, leaving her weary, defeated.
I reach up, cup her face in my hands, and wipe away her tears with my thumbs.
“David could never see you the way I do,” I tell her, my voice low and steady.
“And how is that?” she whispers.
“Like you’re the most fascinating thing I’ve ever encountered.” I brush another tear away. “David sees a sweet woman who’s kind to everyone. And you are that. But you’re so much more.”
Her breath hitches.
“I see the way your eyes crinkle when you smile,” I continue, each word deliberate.
“Your real smile, not the polite one you give everyone else. I see the way you make a small, satisfied hum after your first sip of coffee at your desk in the morning, like that first taste is the best reason to get out of bed and go to work.”
A small sound escapes her throat, something between a laugh and a sob.
“I see the way your eyes flutter closed when you bite into food you really enjoy,” I say, tracing the curve of her cheek with my thumb. “The way your hands move when you’re talking about something you care about, all the little gestures that make your words come alive.”
“Kain...” Her voice is barely audible.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away at first,” I tell her, meaning every word. “And I know what I said about the bond. But once you had my attention, Anne, I couldn’t look away. My eyes kept getting pulled to you. And I found myself falling for you. Again.”
She’s trembling. “You can’t expect me to come running back just because the bond woke up for you, not after you already rejected me.”
“You’re right. The bond might have been what was driving me to act like a lunatic,” I admit. “Following you, stalking you like some obsessed fool. The jealousy was real. But the bond is not why I want to be with you.”
“Then why?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.
“Because even without my memories, I fell for you.” I lean my forehead against hers, hating that I still have to lie. “The man I am now, the one who doesn’t remember our past, fell in love with the woman you are today. Not because of some magical connection. Because you’re you.”
Anne’s breath catches in her throat. She looks away but I follow her eyes, trying to make sure she can see in mine just how much I want this. How much I want her.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispers. “You broke my heart with your rejection once.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I pull back just enough for her to feel comfortable turning her face back toward mine. “And I’ll spend as long as it takes proving that I won’t do it again. That I’m worth the risk.”
She’s silent, and she drops her gaze to her feet. I raise her chin gently, trying to get her to look at me, but she closes her eyes instead.
“Anne, please…” I plead.
She doesn’t open her eyes, but she nuzzles her face against my hand.
Hope surges in my chest. Leaning down, I press my lips against hers.
It’s different from the desperate kisses we’ve shared before. This one is tentative at first, questioning. When she doesn’t resist, I kiss her again, pouring everything I feel into it. She melts against me and kisses me back, the salty taste of her tears coating our tongues.
When we finally break apart, we’re both out of breath.
“Give me a chance,” I say against her lips. “A real one. Let me be your man. Let me prove that I can be what you need.”
She’s still crying, but it’s not the same now. It’s softer. It looks like relief mixed with resignation mixed with what I want to think is hope.
She nods. Just once, tearful and trembling.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Okay. Yes.”
I kiss her again, and this time, she reciprocates without hesitation. Right here in the stairwell, with the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and our movements echoing in the empty space.
“Can I come over after work tonight?” I ask breathlessly against her lips.
“Please,” she breathes.
I give her one more kiss, a promise of what’s to come. Even if the truth eventually destroys us both.
Right now, in this moment, she’s mine.
And that’s all that matters.