Page 36 of Rhett
“Ooh, I know that look,” Imani said. “You like Rhett.”
I sputtered. “I do not like Sheriff Stick-Up-His-Ass.”
Imani arched a brow. “What’s wrong with Rhett?”
“Everything! He’s domineering, arrogant, and rude.”
“So you don’t find him attractive?”
I eyed her as if she were crazy. “I’m not blind. Of course I find him attractive.”
“You ain’t saying something I don’t already know.”
I glanced at her with surprise.
“Everyone in the damn office smelled the undercurrents of your mutual attraction last night.”
I snorted. “Don’t know how you smelled that when his anger and distaste for what I am were clearly evident.” Which, frankly, hurt a little, given our flirtatious banter prior to him finding out I had a Hunter bloodline.
“Welcome to the club. Rhett took a while to warm up to me when I first got to the Ridge. But now he’d give up his life for me, and I’d do the same for him. Put it this way—you have to look past Rhett’s abrasiveness to see his caring and nurturing side.”
My eyes widened. “Caring and nurturing side? Every time he opens his foul mouth, he inserts his foot. Rhett doesn’t like what I am. He’s made that abundantly clear every opportunity he could.”
“That’s because he’s scared and confused.”
“About what?” I replied.
“What he feels for you.”
I arched a brow.
Imani continued. “He’s attracted to you, but you represent something he’s spent a lifetime hating… Hunters. As he said last night, Hunters killed his sister, so he has a hell of a lot of anger and guilt about her death. It’s been years, but he hasn’t worked through his feelings.”
“I understand loss,” I said but it didn’t mean that being an asshole to me was acceptable. “My mother died from a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Nova.”
“Thank you.”
Even though Mom and I didn’t have the best or closest relationship, I’d mourned her passing. At times, I’d felt anger and guilt over the fact that we’d rarely talked since I’d left for college. Part of me would always wonder if, had I tried to mend fences with her prior to her death, maybe we both could have gotten closure.
As we continued walking, I carried on. “I’m intimately aware of all the complicated emotions that come with a deceased loved one. But I refuse to be held accountable for the sins of my Hunter family. I’m not like them. I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body. Hell, I’m a Black woman who knows personally how destructive racist people can be.”
Imani nodded. “As a Black woman too, I can tell you you’re preaching to the choir. But thank goodness shifters don’t give a shit about the color of anyone’s skin.”
“So they’re just prejudiced against hybrids and Hunters?” I spat. “Prejudice is prejudice, Imani.”
“You’re right, Nova. But not everyone in the Ridge is antihybrid or will hold your bloodline against you.”
Across the street, a very pregnant woman—whom I recognized from last night—stepped out of the police station, propping the door open. “Hi, Imani. Hi, Nova,” she called out, adding a cheerful wave.
We both waved back and stopped.
“Hi, Heidi,” Imani said. “You going to the festival on Saturday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She rubbed her belly. “But my mate is worried about me being overdue.”
The midwife in me instantly rose to the surface. “How overdue?”
