Then I remember how I begged him last night to stay with me.
Men don’t like pathetic women.
Another helpful tip from my mother.
I hate that the memory of her words combines with the way Chance vehemently denied that I was his mate when asked last night by one of his pack members.
The sense of rejection shouldn’t have stung the way it did. I barely know this man. I highly doubt that I’m a wolf shifter as everyone around me continues to suggest. So, I surely can’t be his mate, right?
“Let’s go eat,” he says, suddenly dressed in front of me. I didn’t even realize that I’d gotten lost in my thoughts.
“You’re right. I’m hungry and I could use a cup of coffee.”
I am feeling famished. Though I’m not usually one for a big breakfast.
We have to watch our waistlines.
Another one of my mother’s helpful warnings. It’s enough to spur me into the bathroom.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I yell out to Chance from behind the closed door. I take his non-response as understanding.
I rummage through my handbag picking out the small facial cleanser I have on hand. I do my best to put myself together with the limited moisturizers and makeup from my suitcase’s bag.
Yet, once complete, I step away from the mirror and give myself a onceover. Everything looks decent, for now, I pull the bonnet off of my hair, letting out a small groan.
Not only are my roots getting worse, the gray streak is starting to peek through. Faster than usual.
On top of that, I can’t believe I let Chance see me in my bonnet…again. I was so out of it, last night with sadness and worry, that I didn’t even think of how I looked.
And he still dove between your legs like a wolf to its prey.
I pause and inhale deeply in an attempt to slow my quickening heart rate. I can’t think about last night. I should focus on getting to talk to my sister. I plan to give her a call after breakfast.
With my thoughts firmly in the right place, I pull the door open.
“Oh,” I startle when Chance appears, his large body taking up the entire space of the doorframe.
My heartbeat starts to race again, and heat floods my body as he stares down at me. His golden eyes search my face before roaming over the rest of my body. It’s not a lustful look, however.
The wrinkle in between his eyebrows leads me to believe he’s concerned.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, why?” I ask, confused.
“You ran into the bathroom without saying anything.”
I cock my head to the side. “I told you I would just be a minute. I needed to get presentable.”
I playfully wave a hand over my face and body.
Chance doesn’t crack a smile. In fact, the wrinkle between his brows deepens.
“You said it with the door closed.” There’s a heaviness in his voice that I don’t understand.
Did I do something wrong?
Chance shakes his head as if I’ve asked the question out loud.