Chapter Seventy-Three
Enzo
Iturn the bedside lamp back on a few minutes after Jack stops tossing and turning and apparently gives up on getting any sleep. He slips out of the room quietly, closing the door behind him.
Nothing could make him feel better when he got back to the apartment this afternoon. Not even Arrow’s touch, and that’s the one thing that always helps.
I get up and go into the main room of the apartment where I find him standing behind the kitchen counter, a glass in one hand and the other ready to turn the faucet.
He looks up and sighs wearily. “I thought you were sleeping. I was trying not to wake you.”
“It’s hard to sleep when I know one of my mates is in pain.”
“My face doesn’t hurt that much,” he tells me, as he fills his glass with water.
“I wasn’t talking about your face.”
“I know,” he admits, grimacing.
He moves to the end of the counter and sits on one of the bar stools.
I stand beside him and take his free hand in mine.
“She’s our fated mate, Jack. She’ll get past this.”
He nods. “I keep telling myself that same thing. I still feel bad. The look on her face … It was like I’d just scammed her, or something. I can’t get past that.”
“Well, you’re going to have to try. There’s only so much sleep I can lose before I start to feel like a brainless zombie.”
He laughs. “I should take the couch tonight. You need your rest.”
“It doesn’t matter where you go. I’ll know you’re awake and you’re hurting. I won’t sleep until I can find a way to fix that.”
“Well, the usual way won’t work,” he says. “This is the least horny I’ve ever felt.”
“Oh, I know,” I tell him. “You’ve never once turned me down. Tonight was the only exception.”
It’s not a big deal. The mood wasn’t right. But that usually doesn’t matter with Jack.
He can be aroused in seconds and become ready for anything at the drop of a hat.
This isn’t like him, and that’s what worries me.
“You’re going to have to keep me away from her.”
“What?” I ask, not understanding.
“I don’t want to make things worse,” he explains.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it until it sinks in. It’s not your fault.”
He doesn’t believe me. I can see it in his expression. I don’t need to be an Omega to tell he’s full of guilt over this.
“I wanted to tell her, remember?” he asks.
I smile. “So did Arrow, and he’s an empath. Anyone can make an error in judgement.”
“I’m also the one who actually told her.”