Chapter 5
five
JADE
“Sorry if I’m tracking grease in here,” I said.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. That’s why I went with tile,” Wyatt said.
“It was a good call.”
He followed me into the bedroom, then into the bathroom. “Do you want to see if your wolf will let me give you privacy? Corinne’s never cared about the distance between us.”
“Sure.”
We stopped just inside the bathroom. Our eyes met as he took a few steps backward. There was something intense about the eye contact.
Until Wyatt stepped to the side, disappearing from my sight completely.
Something within me surged forward, and I choked out a curse as I bent in half in pain. Fur broke out on my arms for a moment before Wyatt moved back into my line of sight.
The wolf calmed down in a heartbeat.
It was almost humorous how quickly she backed off, ending my pain completely.
I sucked in a deep breath of air. “Guess we know how she feels about that.”
Wyatt grimaced. “I’ll have to stay in here while you shower, then.”
“Oh, the horror. You may not survive seeing my naked body.”
He gave me a dead-panned look that said absolutely nothing about what he was thinking.
“You had no problem stripping in front of the world at the hospital, so I don’t know why this is a big deal to you,” I said, tugging his greasy shirt over my head and placing it against his chest. He took it as I turned and strode toward the shower.
“Male shifters are possessive of their mates. The women don’t shift in front of other people the way the men do.”
“So?”
He grunted.
I turned the water on and stepped to the side, waiting for it to warm. “That’s not an answer, Jones.”
“Corinne is the only woman I’ve seen naked in person,” he said reluctantly. “And that was only when she was shifting.”
My eyebrows shot upward as I stepped beneath the hot water. “You’re joking, right?”
“If this was my attempt at a joke, you’d have your answer about my sense of humor.”
That was a good point.
“If you’ve never seen another naked woman in person, you’ve never had sex before,” I said.
“Correct.”
“Wow. No wonder you just want to be friends. You’re probably terrified.”
“I’m not terrified.” He growled that last word.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-nine.”
So I was also older than him. Probably only by a few months, but still.
“If I made it to twenty-nine without having sex and was facing the possibility of it for the first time, I’d be terrified,” I said.
He scoffed. “I would make you comfortable long before you got to the point of terror, Hoover.”
I believed him.
And I wasn’t opposed to the way he’d used my last name. He’d clearly noticed me using his.
If I was both older and more experienced, I had an obvious job to accomplish.
“Come here,” I said.
“What do you mean, come here?” He was growling at me again. I was kind of starting to like it. That should probably have been concerning, but whatever.
“Just throw our greasy clothes in the tub and come into the shower.”
“You already pointed out that we don’t know each other.”
“And you already pointed out that I know more of your past than any of your friends. Also, that friends can have sex.”
Another growl tore through him, but he tossed my shirt into the tub and unbuttoned his pants on his way to the shower. They followed the path my shirt had taken, and he pulled the glass door open before stepping in after me.
“You are infuriating,” he said, his eyes scorching as they moved slowly over my figure. His cock was rock hard, and standing straight up for me. “Are you happy?”
“I’d be happier if you verbally admitted you’re attracted to me.”
“You want me to admit that I want you?”
“Yes, Jones. That’s exactly what I want.”
His nostrils flared. “Fine. I want you. I want you so fucking badly, I can’t think straight.”
“Good.” I put my hands on his chest and walked him backward two steps until his shoulders hit the wall.
Hot water fell over both of us, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t falter. “Tell me I can touch you,” I said.
He clenched his jaw. “You’re my mate. You can do anything you want to me.”
I scowled. “This has nothing to do with being mates. Or werewolves. Do you want me to touch you?”
“No. I want to touch you.”
“Then do it.” The challenge in my voice was clear.
Wyatt lifted his hand to my abdomen and dragged his fingers lightly over a patch of grease. “You’re insane, Hoover.”
“The best people are.”
He barked out a laugh, shaking his head as his hand slid higher on my abdomen. “I can’t believe this is happening. Any of it.”
“Believe it, Jones.”
His fingertips traced my ribs lightly. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“So are you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”
“Manly, then. You’re so fucking manly.”
His lips spread in a feral grin. “That’s better.”
I sucked in a breath when his fingers brushed the underside of my breast. It had been a long time since I was with anyone. Way too long.
“That feel good?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
His hand slid higher, and he finally found what I’d been waiting for. A soft groan escaped me when he dragged his fingers over my nipple.
His cock jerked, the tip brushing my lower belly as he continued playing with my nipple.
I reached for his erection, but he caught my wrist and spun me around. My back met the wall of the shower, and the giant of a man towered over me as he pinned my hand above my head.
I wanted to tease him, but didn't want to ruin the moment.
Not after he'd been so uncertain when it started.
His hand left my breast, dipping beneath my chin. With a small motion, he tipped my head back.
His eyes met mine, then lowered to my lips and lingered.
“Just take what you want, Jones.”
His lips curved upward slightly. “You really don’t beat around the bush.”
“That’s not my style.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
There was a moment’s pause.
A breath in, and out.
And finally, his lips met mine.
The kiss was soft. Tentative. Uncertain.
I wanted to part his lips and make the moment infinitely better, but I had the feeling he needed to be in charge. Especially given what I knew kissing had meant in his last relationship.
His tongue finally found the seam of my mouth, and I opened without hesitation. The quiet groan that rumbled his chest as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back told me I’d made the right call.
Our mouths moved.
Our tongues danced.
Our bodies pressed together, our hands wandering and exploring as we made out
When Wyatt finally pulled away, we were both panting. Our foreheads rested against each other as we caught our breath.
“That was…” Wyatt trailed off, shaking his head roughly.
“It was,” I agreed. “You still want to be just friends?”
“No.” His mouth captured mine again, this time for just a few seconds before he released me. “We should get that grease out of your hair.”
“That would probably be a good call.”
He hesitated a moment. His hand slid over my hip before he finally took a step back, giving me a little more room.
After another moment of hesitation, he opened the shower door and started to leave.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He stopped. “Giving you space.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need space.”
“You said you process better on your own.”
I had said that. And I did.
“I’m not processing anything right now. Trying to live in the moment and all that.”
Wyatt nodded slowly.
He shut the shower door and leaned against the wall while I grabbed some of the dish soap and started lathering the bottom half of my hair.
“So your dad is a mechanic,” Wyatt said, his eyes watching my movements closely.
“He was.”
“He’s retired?”
“Not by choice.”
Wyatt’s forehead creased. “Was there an accident?”
“If you want to call cancer an accident.”
His expression went grim. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“How long was he fighting it? If you’re okay talking about it.”
I nodded.
No one ever asked me about him. It would be nice to talk about him for once.
“We’re not sure. He ignored the symptoms for at least a year. Maybe more. By the time he went into the doctor, he only had a few weeks left. We spent them in the hospital together.”
Wyatt shook his head slowly. “I can’t imagine. How old were you?”
“Barely eighteen. He transferred all of his money to me and made sure I could access my college fund before he passed. Moved me into a little apartment, too. My mom was never involved. I haven’t seen her since I was a toddler.”
“You were barely eighteen and handling life entirely on your own?”
“Mmhm. Luckily for me, I didn’t have a mate I wasn’t attracted to making everything more complicated.”
Wyatt’s lips curved the tiniest bit. “Yeah.”
I rinsed the oily soap bubbles from my hair and started again. Getting the grease out wasn’t fast or easy, but I wasn’t in a hurry.
“What do you teach at the university? I know Abby said her whole friend group is made up of young professors.”
I nodded. “That’s how we met. There’s a young professor program at the school. Technically, it’s a study. I teach Biology 101.”
“So you like science?”
“I do. Teaching definitely isn’t my passion, but the university is running a few research programs I was hoping I could get involved in. Unfortunately, the department head is a sexist jackass, and won’t let me participate until I’ve been here for five years.”
Wyatt scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know. He’s my boss, though, so I can’t do much about it.”
“Have you looked into other jobs?”
“Yeah, but I’d have to move for everything I’ve found. Leaving my friends when I don’t have any family anywhere else makes me nervous, so I’ve turned down the offers.”
“I think there’s a research group in Moon Ridge. I’m not sure if they’re hiring, but I could reach out. I know someone who’s a part of it.”
“I would love that. It would definitely be worth a try,” I agreed.
My hair finally felt normal, so I scrubbed the grease off the rest of my body with dish soap, then stole some of Wyatt’s shampoo to clean my scalp while I was at it.
He watched me the whole time. His eyes were still hot, but there was something else in them that I couldn’t quite read.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“About having a mate,” he admitted. “I haven’t considered it for a long time. As a werewolf, you grow up expecting to have a partner to share your life with. Rejection is rare. Werewolves don’t prepare to spend our lives alone. We just deal with it if we have to.”
“How do you feel about it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Ouch.
The answer could’ve been worse, I guess.
“I guess I process better on my own too,” he said.
That, I could understand.
“You also have a complicated history with women, much like Finn.”
Wyatt grimaced. “Finn’s is worse.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Geez. They should call your pack Scarred, not Feral.”
“Probably.” After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed some shampoo and dragged it through his hair. My eyes followed the motions. “How do you feel about having a mate?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s fully set in yet, but I can see the benefit. I read a lot about arranged marriage for a psychology class I took in undergrad, and it’s pretty fascinating how well it works in some situations.”
“Most mated couples are disgustingly happy,” he admitted.
“I noticed. Abby, I could’ve predicted. Stella, though? That must be fate’s fault.”
Wyatt’s lips curved slightly. “Graham single-handedly made that happen. None of us have ever seen a wolf as unwilling to commit as hers was. No one dared bet on rejection, but it was a real fear.”
“And now they’re like… obsessed with each other.”
“Completely.”
“If it wasn’t so insane, it would almost be cute.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Yeah.”
We finished washing up pretty quickly, and dried off. The topic shifted back to our jobs, and honestly, it was one of the most natural conversations I’d ever had.