Page 38 of Knotted By my Pack
I let out a frustrated scream, throwing my hands up as if the universe is personally out to get me.
So now I’m stuck. My car won’t start, my phone’s dying, and the storm isn’t letting up. The bakery’s locked, but I’m not about to spend the night here. I only have with me what I’m wearing and I’m already running a fever.
With no other option, I scramble out of the car, getting drenched in a matter of seconds, and race back into the bakery.
Once inside, I pace around, thinking of what I can do. I could walk home, but that’s ridiculous. It’s too far away, and in this weather, I’d never make it.
I glance at the door, the rain slapping against the windows, and before I can turn back, the door creaks open.
I jump, letting out a shriek before I see who it is.
Julian.
Of course.
His dark suit is ruined, completely drenched and hanging limp off his shoulders, his jacket long discarded somewhere.
His piercing blue eyes meet mine as he steps inside, a glimmer of something I can’t quite place in them.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, breathless, wiping my hands on my skirt.
He looks at me, taking in my damp, feverish state, and for a moment, the tension between us is almost unbearable. His gaze softens, but the usual sharpness remains.
“I was leaving when I saw you run inside. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I scoff at him, irritated and still boiling under the fever. “Like you care.”
His eyes narrow, the hint of a frown tugging at his lips. “I know I was an ass yesterday,” he admits. “And I’m sorry.”
I pace again, frustration building. “That doesn’t fix anything.”
The heat inside of me spikes, making me want to claw at my skin, so I fan myself with my hand.
“Fuck, why is it so hot in here?” I mutter to myself.
Julian’s expression shifts, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you okay? Seriously. What’s going on?”
I glance at him, suddenly self-conscious of how I must look, how the fever is making me feel lightheaded.
“My car won’t start,” I explain, rubbing my temples. “I don’t know what to do. My phone’s dying, and I don’t have a charger. I’m stuck here.”
He takes a step closer, and his gaze softens. “We’ll figure it out.”
I want to roll my eyes at him, but something in his tone makes me pause.
For a brief moment, I wonder what it would be like to actually let him help, to let him fix something for me.
I glance at him again, noticing how his soaked shirt clings to his chest, the faint outline of muscles under the fabric.
He seems tired, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at me now.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. I can’t afford to let my mind wander to him like this. Not now, not when I’m already all over the place.
“I don’t need help,” I snap, trying to pull myself together.
Julian watches me carefully, but then, surprisingly, he steps closer and puts a hand on my arm. “Stop pacing. You’re making it worse.”
I freeze, his touch grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. The heat in my body surges again, and I try to ignore it, focusing on him.
