Page 52 of Defeated

My stomach wants food, and I’m finding it hard not to want Chris.

“Get up, Zoe,” I tell myself.

There’s no sign Chris is anything like Harlan. He isn’t downstairs waiting to surprise you with his cruel side. Get up.

As I sit up, a piece of paper flutters to the bedroom floor. Frowning, I pull the sheets up to cover my bare breasts and reach down to pluck the paper, curious what it is.

Before I’ve finished reading the short message, a smile is stretching across my lips.

Gone to grab us breakfast. Don’t move. I’ll bring it up.

Chris.

Letting the note flutter onto the sheets, I lay back down on the cool cotton sheets, and I think of what happened this morning.

“So much for one night, Zoe,” I mutter, staring up at the ceiling.

Neither of us ran from the other this morning when that’s what we’re used to doing. Well, Chris could have run, but he wouldn’t have left a note if he hadn’t intended on coming back.

And he covered me in a sheet, right up to my ears. I couldn’t have done it when I’ve always been the kind to kick the sheets off and trip over them the next morning.

I didn’t just sleep with Chris once. I did it twice. And I have a feeling that if he finds me in this bed, I’ll do it again.

Would that be such a bad thing?

Maybe the stupid thing would be to continue to roam the country on my own, or worse, return to Harlan in Washington.

My wolf isn’t unhappy about staying with Chris. She’s never been shy about vocalizing her dislikes in the form of a growl in my head or the sensation of claws raking my insides.

But isn’t it wrong to want to be with Chris when I should be with Harlan, the man fate picked out just for me?

It doesn’t feel wrong. With Chris, it feels the way I thought it would be with Harlan.

With him I laugh, I smile, I relax.

I’m me. The Zoe Burton before I was creeping down hallways and sneaking into the kitchen to scrape food from a pot to avoid the dining room.

And I don’t want this one night that turned into the next morning to end. I want us to keep going and see where we end up.

My stomach growls again. My wolf is silent, content for us to stay in this bed for a little while longer. But I have to get up, even if just to use the bathroom and brush my teeth.

As I sit up, I have a flashback to Chris’s furious gaze when I told him the things Harlan had done to me. I’d been so humiliated at the things Harlan said. I hadn’t known that I had desperately needed—even if it was for one moment—for someone to reassure me that those things weren’t true.

For someone to take my side.

And to assure me I’m worth more than to be treated like I’m someone’s worst idea of a mate.

Chris didn’t just tell me I was beautiful. He made me laugh, made me feel like there was some value in me. That I was—and am—enough.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to crawl on top of him and go to sleep when I’ve never done a thing like that before.

Or maybe it’s because he makes me feel safe.

He left one of his T-shirts at the end of the bed, and instead of pulling one of mine out of my bag, even though it’s right there, I pick up his instead and stuff it over my head.

I cross the hallway to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. All the while, I draw his scent deep into my lungs and pretend that this is my life.

In the shower, it’s all I can think about. Chris and me. I hope I’m not wrong to think that he wants this… whatever this thing is between us to keep going too.

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