Page 23 of Dane's War

There’s a shuffle of clothes. A boot thud, then another as he takes them off his feet. The bed sinks beneath his weight, and suddenly, I find myself drawn into his arms, his much larger body conforming to my smaller one.

“I know you’re not asleep, Raine,” he mutters, his breath tickling my neck.

“Can’t sleep,” I tell him. No reason to lie or hide it.

“Wanna talk about what’s spinning around in your head?”

No really.

I don’t bother answering him. I sigh and settle deeper into his arms, liking the warmth of him at my back. It’s nice. I’ve never felt it before.

“Sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yeah, I do. I didn’t handle things right with you, and I told myself that I would make sure to be gentle with you. That I wouldn’t go off and be an ass toward you in any way, shape or form.”

That’s sweet, but it’s not him. I can tell. I’m surehe could be sweet and gentle if he wants to be, though if he can’t be the real him with me then how can the two of us truly go from here.

Rolling in his arms, I twist to face him, curling my fingers into fists against his bare chest. I tilt my head slightly back to see his face in the dark and murmur quietly, “That’s not you.”

“What’s not me?”

Even in the darkness of the room, I could see the outline of his face, the way his brows crease slightly. I also could hear the edge of confusion.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t the type to be sweet and gentle constantly. If you were, you wouldn’t be who you are.”

“And who’s that?”

“A shifter who’s also a biker. If you were sweet and gentle all the time, you’d be out in the fields dancing around picking daisies, not losing your mind over something you heard or saw.”

Dane tosses his head back and bursts out laughing. “Dancing around picking daisies. Oh shit,dolcezza, that shit’s funny.”

“I’m only telling the truth.”

“Yeah, well, that shit’s still funny.”

“Whatever.”

“Not whatever,” Dane says soberly, a hand sliding up my spine into my hair tangling itself in the strands. “You’ve been through hell, baby. I won’t try to run you off right away.”

“I’m not a delicate flower that needs to be watched closely. I need to be able to take care of myself. But you also have to understand that as well. I can handle myself.”

“You might be able to handle yourself, baby, but that don’t mean I’m not going to protect you, so you don’t have to do anything other than be who you are.”

Sighing, I unfist my hands and plant them against his chest, eyes going to little slits. I’m sure he can see this as he’s a freaking shifter, and they have excellent vision. Me, not really. It was typical, though, I’m technically supposed to be wearing glasses. I just don’t unless I’m reading.

“Whatever.”

“I want you to tell me about what happened with your ex. Why you ran from him.”

“Who says I ran?” I ask, my heart nearly leaping in my chest. I hadn’t said anything about running from him. I said I’d left him. There was nothing about running involved, which is a total lie.

“Raine, I’m good at reading between the lines. What happened?” His soothing voice gets to me.

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