Page 33 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

I blink at her, the bar’s noise buzzing around us like a hive of confused bees. “About what?”

She rolls her eyes, nudging me again, harder this time. “About Jack, obviously. You’re gonna just sit here and let things fester, or are you gonna go talk to him?”

Piper chimes in, “Yeah, Sonya. I mean, if he’s been all celibate and mopey because of you, maybe you should, you know, do something about it.”

My heart is a tangled mess of doubt and hope, and it’s beating way too fast for sitting still. I down the last of my drink, letting the burn steady my nerves. “I… I think I need to talk to him,” I finally say, the words stumbling out as I set my glass down with a determined clink.

Piper grins. “That’s the spirit. Go get your man.”

It’s enough to get me on my feet. My legs are a little wobbly, but sure of their direction. I toss some cash on the table, ignoring Jane’s protests that the drinks are on her, and give them both a quick, uncertain smile. “I’ll see you guys later.”

As I step outside, the cool night air hits me like a wake-up call, cutting through the haze of alcohol and swirling thoughts. My breath fogs in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of pine and the faint sound of distant music. I pause, taking a deep breath and trying to steady the rush of adrenaline that’s making my hands shake.

I’m really going to do this. I’m going to tell Jack how I feel. And maybe it’s the alcohol giving me courage, or maybe it’s the realization that if I don’t do this now, I’ll regret it forever. Either way, I start walking, my steps quickening with every beat of my heart.

When I get to Jack’s house, the lights are still on, spilling a soft glow onto the lawn. I stand there for a moment, staring at the door, my thoughts tumbling around like leaves caught in the wind. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this ruins everything?

But then I think about his eyes, the way they softened when he looked at me, like I was something precious, and it gives me the push I need.

I push the door open, and my heart is pounding so hard, I swear he can probably hear it from wherever he is in the house. “Jack!” I call out, my voice louder than I intended, echoing in the stillness.

He appears in the hallway, and surprise flashes across his face when he sees me. His hair is tousled like he’s been running his hands through it in frustration the way he tends to do, andthere’s a tiredness in his eyes that tugs at something deep inside me. “Sonya? What are you—”

“I need to talk to you,” I blurt out, cutting him off before I lose my nerve. My voice wavers, but I press on, driven by a mix of liquid courage and sheer determination. “About us.”

Jack frowns, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall, trying to look casual but failing miserably. “Sonya, it’s late. You’ve been drinking. Maybe we should talk about this another time.”

I take a step closer, refusing to back down. “No, Jack. We’ve been dancing around this for too long. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t… like I don’t feel something for you. Like I don’t want you.”

His eyes widen, and I can see the struggle in his expression, the way he’s fighting with himself, torn between what he wants and what he thinks is right. “Sonya, you’re drunk,” he says softly, but there’s a roughness to his voice that sends shivers down my spine. “We shouldn’t—”

“I’m tipsy, not wasted,” I snap, closing the distance between us until I’m right in front of him, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “And I know what I’m saying. I want you, Jack. I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into that bar and looked at me like I was the only person in the room.”

He doesn’t respond, but his eyes flicker with something raw and unguarded. For a second, I think he’s going to pull away again, to retreat behind that wall he’s so good at throwing up. But then he moves, his hands reaching out to cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks in a way that’s almost reverent.

“Sonya,” he murmurs, and there’s a tremble in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this. But you’re not thinking clearly, and I don’t want to—”

I don’t let him finish. I surge forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s desperate and messy and everything I’ve been holding back for far too long. He freezes for a split second, and then he’s kissing me back, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

The kiss deepens, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just heat and desire—it’s a connection, a spark that ignites every nerve in my body. I press against him, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. He’s solid and real, and the way he’s holding me makes me feel like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.

“Sonya, we shouldn’t…” Jack mumbles against my lips, but his hands are still on me, sliding down to my waist and pulling me even closer. I can feel the tension in his grip, the way he’s fighting against his own restraint, and it only makes me want him more.

“Then stop,” I whisper back, my breath mingling with his as I trail kisses along his jawline, down to the pulse that’s thrumming at his neck. “Stop holding back. I’m right here, Jack. I’m not going anywhere.”

He groans, a sound that’s half frustration and half surrender, and suddenly he’s lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me down the hall. My back hits the wall, and I gasp as the cool surface grounds me for a split second before his mouth is on mine again, devouring me like he can’t get enough.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulls away, his breathing ragged as he sets me back on my feet. “Sonya, I can’t… you’re drunk, and this isn’t how I want it to be. You deserve better than that.”

I try to protest, but he silences me with a gentle kiss to my forehead. His hands linger on my shoulders as if he’s trying to steady himself. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says softly, and there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes my chest ache.

I let him guide me to his room. My steps are unsteady, but my resolve is still firm. I want to argue, to tell him that I’m fine, that this is what I want, but the exhaustion is creeping in, blurring the edges of my vision. Jack pulls back the covers, and I slide into the bed, my head sinking into the pillow as he tucks the blanket around me like I’m something fragile.

He hesitates for a moment, then sighs, kicking off his shoes and lying down beside me, fully clothed. It’s not the grand, passionate moment I imagined, but as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, the warmth of his body against mine is enough to quiet the doubts swirling in my mind.

“Goodnight, Sonya,” he whispers, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

I close my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull me into a half-sleep. For once, I feel safe, like I’ve finally found a place where I belong. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or how we’ll navigate the tangled mess we’ve made, but right now, with Jack’s arm draped over me and the faint scent of him filling the air, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something real.

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