Page 39 of Knotted By my Pack
“I’m fine. It’s just… this is ridiculous,” I murmur, trying to calm down.
He watches me for a moment before releasing a soft sigh. “You’re not fine, Cora. You’re burning up.”
I nod, pulling away slightly. “I know. I know. It’s just…” I trail off, unsure how to explain it.
Julian doesn’t say anything, just watches me. I think for a moment that he might say something else, something that might ease the tension that’s been hanging in the air, but instead he just gives a small nod.
“We’ll figure this out, okay?” He repeats and passes me his phone. “Maybe you can call someone. A doctor, maybe?”
I shake my head.
“Okay. Okay. Look at me. Let me help you. I can help you if you just tell me what you need.”
I glance at him, feeling the weight of everything pushing down on me again. For a moment, it feels like the storm outside is inside too, raging in my chest, my body, my mind.
“I hope so,” I say softly, more to myself than to him.
As the rain pounds against the windows, I try to focus on what I can do to get through this.
But all I can think about is how he’s standing there, watching me with an intensity that leaves me breathless.
Julian’s voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts.
“I can drop you off at home,” he offers, his tone almost too casual for my liking. “I don’t have much gas, but I can at least get you there. Then I’ll head home myself.”
I blink, caught off guard by the offer. After everything that’s happened between us, I didn’t expect him to even acknowledge me, let alone offer a ride. I try not to let my surprise show.
“Why would you do that?” I ask, my voice sharp with skepticism.
He shrugs, but there’s an almost apologetic glint in his eyes. “I’m an asshole, but I’m not leaving you like this.”
I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to turn him down, tell him to leave me alone, but another part—one I’m not ready to confront—reluctantly accepts his offer.
I nod, trying to act like it’s no big deal. “Fine,” I mutter, glancing at the door. “I’ll just lock up.”
The sound of keys clinking in the quiet bakery is a reminder that I’m still trapped in this mess.
I hurry through the motions, my mind racing. I don’t want to be here with him, but I also don’t want to be stuck in the bakery overnight, especially in the condition I’m in.
Julian waits patiently, not rushing me, just standing there with his arms crossed, looking out the window.
The rain’s still coming down hard, and I can already feel the cold creeping into my skin, making the fever inside me feel even worse.
I expect him to take me to some sleek, high-end car, but when he opens the door to his vehicle, I’m met with something… unexpected.
It’s a beat-up old truck that smells of engine oil. Not at all what I imagined for him.
I hesitate, but he’s already climbing into the driver’s seat, and I don’t have much of a choice. I get in, closing the door behind me, and immediately, I’m hit by his scent.
Woodsmoke. Cedar. There’s something richer underneath it—aged bourbon, crushed violets—like a damn storm wrapped up in cologne. It wraps around me, thick and heavy, making my head spin. I grit my teeth.
“This is insane,” I mutter under my breath.
“What?” Julian glances over at me, confusion flickering in his eyes.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, sinking into the seat. “Just?—”
I don’t finish the sentence.
