Page 32 of Defeated

“Well.” Zoe clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking about the shifters outside.”

“What about them?”

Her eyes briefly dart to mine and quickly away again. “They were breaking into my apartment the last time I saw them.”

I suspected as much. “And now they’re here.”

She looks at me. “I have some stuff in my apartment. I know it’s not safe to even?—”

“We’ll go back and get your things, Zoe. If they’re still there, they will soon regret it.”

She stares at me, her expression disbelieving, as if she’d been bracing herself for a fight and hadn’t expected such an easy agreement. “Really?”

“You seem surprised,” I say.

She shakes her head. “I just thought you’d say something about it being dangerous and me being a woman and some crap like that.”

I think I’ve just gotten my first hint about why she’s here alone instead of with her pack. “Like your mate?”

Her face shuts down, and instantly, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. “Zoe?—”

“I need to go get changed back into my clothes.” Her voice is distant, clearly communicating her need for me to change the subject.

I point my chin toward our unfinished breakfast.

After Zoe had rushed outside, I couldn’t just sit and return to mine. Not when I’d known something had been wrong with her.

Even if she hadn’t rushed out the way she had, I had enjoyed eating breakfast with her. Liked how it had felt natural and easy. I hadn’t had to fumble about and struggle to think of something to say. Even the silence between us hadn’t felt awkward.

“We still have time to eat breakfast.”

She hesitates.

“It’s breakfast, not?—”

“A proposal,” she softly interrupts, amusement softening her voice. “Okay.”

And we both sit down at the table again to finish our breakfast.

We don’t speak all that much, but we don’t need to. At no point does it feel awkward.

11

ZOE

Chris is judging me.

His face hasn’t changed from calm, cool, and mildly curious but there’s no way he is looking at the tiny box that is my studio with the thin comforter, the severe lack of furniture, and the desperately sad state I’ve been living and isn’t judging me.

I didn’t know what I was thinking bringing him here.

The brief memory of Chris’s lips on mine, and his right hand cupping my hip, flares to life. It’s not the first time it’s distracted me in the minutes since we got into Chris’s U-Haul, and I directed him to my apartment.

The truth is, I wasn’t thinking.

After that kiss, I’d wanted to do something, go somewhere, be anywhere else that was not an empty apartment where it was just him and me, so a kiss like that wouldn’t happen again.

I had not considered how humiliating it would be to bring him here.

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