Page 29 of Bullied Pretend Mate
“And I was being an idiot. I’d like to say I grew out of being reckless, but I’m not quite sure that I did.” Felix reaches forward, knocking playfully against Mr. Stone’s desk, and to my surprise, the lawyer smiles at him.
How is it that Felix can put anyone at ease?
“Well, I actually fell down a well.”
Mr. Stone’s brow wrinkles, and Felix goes on, “Yes, there was a well on the property. Yes, there was wood over the top, and signs saying to keep out. But I was curious, even as Maeve was telling me I was going to get myself stuck.”
The day is coming back to me—the wet, mildewy scent of the well, the water that sat stagnant before Felix disturbed it. The harsh scraping as Felix tried to catch himself on the stones, then finally hit the water at the bottom.
The sharp spear of pain that went through me when I thought he might be seriously hurt.
But even back then, he was an alpha, his body built differently than mine. More robust. Like he just had more layers protecting him.
“And when I was at the bottom of that well, ankle sprained, looking up into the empty sky,” Felix says, raising his hand up, painting the picture of the sky for this lawyer, who, somehow, looks entirely transfixed by the story, “little Maeve popped her head over the side, looking right down at me. I thought for sure she was going to leave me there to die. I probably would have deserved it—I was always getting into these sorts of situations. I was always dragging her in with me.”
My heart starts to beat harder—not faster but heavier, like it’s carrying more and more blood with each pump. I remember looking over the wall of that well. I remember staringdown at him, looking so small, his head tipped up as he stared at me from his spot below.
“But she didn’t leave me there to die,” Felix says, his voice impossibly soft. He’s not looking at me, but keeping his gaze intent on Mr. Stone. I feel every word of his story with a sense of permanence, like he’s told it before and he’ll tell it again. “She went and got me help. Even knowing how upset our parents were going to be with her…it was unfair. Sometimes, the blame was heaped onto her for the shenanigans we got into. But she helped me, and before she left, she smiled down at me, and she said, 'Everything’s going to be good, Felix.’”
There’s a pause, and Felix leans back, taking my hand in his, squeezing it like he’s my real mate, telling the real story of the first time he realized he was in love with me. “That’s the thing I remember, and the thing I associate most with Maeve. She didn’t say things were going to be okay, or that everything would be fine—she specified ‘good.’ And that’s the kind of life we’re going to have together.”
When he’s done, it’s like he’s delivered the speech in front of an entire room; the crowd hushed at the weight of what he’s just said.
But instead of applauding, Mr. Stone just clears his throat, scribbles something down in his notes, and plows ahead with the questions. “Great, thank you. And where would you approximate your family’s position within the pack?”
It’s impossible to tell whether or not Mr. Stone buys the story, but based on the set of his jaw, I’m leaning toward no.
Felix squeezes my hand as he continues answering questions about his family, his abilities, and the date of his first shift. Some of them are intrusive, but he plows on like this is all very normal.
I don’t know what Mr. Stone is thinking. All I know is that time is running out for me to make this relationship completely believable—to ensure this lawyer doesn’t see right through us.
Felix is doing his part. Maybe I need to do mine.
Chapter 14 - Felix
My cousin Suzie comes from the richer side of our family. That much is clear when Maeve and I arrive at the wedding, and the first thing we see is a giant ice sculpture of the bride and groom in the center of the room, their faces shining at one another, gleaming in the twinkling of the chandelier.
“Holy shit,” Maeve mutters under her breath before she starts to fan herself. “You didn’t tell me one of the weddings is for thequeen.”
“She’s not a queen,” I mutter back, laughing as I glance down at Maeve at my side. “Her dad just had a successful tech start-up.”
Maeve is the image of beauty today, dressed in a blood-red gown that’s covered in some sort of material. Reflective? Glittering? I’m not quite sure, but all I know is that it’s eye-catching. Several other women have already gestured toward her, their eyes full of envy.
“Did you make this dress?” I ask, tapping her arm as we make our way through the large marble entry room to the main chapel, where the ceremony is to be held.
“Yes,” she whispers, turning her face up to mine, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of vulnerability that wasn’t there before. “Why, is there something wrong with it?”
“No,” I say, placing a hand on her lower back and feeling her entire body shiver. The result is a warming of my belly, and my wolf gnawing at the constraints I’ve put around him. “It’s perfect.”
Even as I’m talking, I’m actively waging a battle inside me against my wolf—yes, I’ve given her the mating mark, but no,that doesn’t mean that I can sweep her into my arms, take her back to the hotel room, and do what I please.
As much as I want to.
The drive from Silverville was about three hours long, and Maeve was surprised when I said she could pick the music.
“Really?” I’d laughed, passing her the cord so she could plug her phone into the car. “I always let you choose the music.”
The rest of the sentence falls away, because it’s not quite finished and not quite true. When I rode in the car with my parents, we’d just listen to the radio.
