Page 23 of Marked
I wind my fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt as I stare up at him, paralyzed with indecision.
I should leave.
I should spare him my damage and set him free.
Ishould, but I want so badly to stay.
“Come on, let’s go watch the rest of the movie,” he coaxes gently, stepping back and taking my hand.
I don’t resist when he leads me back over to the couch, getting me settled in front of the TV before he heads to the kitchen to make each of us another drink. We watch the movie as we sip them, and slowly, my anxiety ebbs and I start to come back into myself.
We don’t kiss again, but we do snuggle in closer at some point, full-on cuddling by the time the credits roll. And while I feel like we just took two giant steps back, there’s at least a glimmer of a path forward for us.
And like he said, we’ll only get there if we work together.
CHAPTER NINE
the proposition
IVER
Gravel crunches beneath the soles of my boots as I step out of my truck in front of Cheyenne’s cabin, the slam of my door echoing in the quiet night as I shove it closed behind me. The front light is switched on, casting a soft orange glow over the porch from the weathered sconce beside the door. It swings open before I can even take a step, the floorboards of the old porch creaking as my mate steps outside, blinking in surprise when our eyes meet.
“What are you doing here?” Chey asks breathlessly.
She clearly wasn’t expecting to find me loitering in her driveway, butfuck, it’s good to see her.
It’s been days– three, to be exact– and I’ve been aching to set eyes on my mate. We’ve been texting nonstop since our movie night, but she’s avoided making plans to meet up in person, always finding some sort of excuse as to why she can’t. It’d hurt my feelings if I didn’t know it’s just a defense mechanism. She wants to protect herself; prevent a repeat of what happened the last time we hung out. I meant it when I said we’d work through thistogether, though, and we actually have toseeone another to do that.
“You wanna go for a ride?” I ask, throwing a thumb over my shoulder toward my truck.
She purses her lips, amber eyes flickering over me skeptically. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise,” I answer with a grin.
She folds her arms over her chest, pinning me with a stare. “You should probably know that I’m not a huge fan of surprises.”
“But what if it’s agoodsurprise?” I challenge.
She stabs a finger into her chest. “Riddled with anxiety, remember?” she asks, arching a brow.
“Sounds like you could use a ride up the mountain to look at the stars, then,” I reply, winking as I beckon her with a flick of my head and slap a palm against the roof of my truck. “Hop in, beautiful.”
Chey cocks her head, chewing on her lower lip as she considers my offer.
I’m hedging my bets on the hope that she’ll have a harder time turning me down in person, relying on our bond to act as my wingman. Just as it’s pulling me to her right now, she has to be feeling that same tug in her chest drawing us together.
“Okay, just let me throw on my shoes and grab my keys,” she concedes with a sigh, her golden blonde hair whipping behind her as she pivots on a heel and rushes back inside.
I grin to myself as I lean back against the side of my truck, waiting for her to emerge. Two tortuous minutes later, she reappears, locking the cabin up behind her and bounding down the path toward me.
She’s dressed casually in leggings and a t-shirt, but it’s warm enough tonight that she shouldn’t need a jacket. Summer is at its peak, which means the day’s heat often lingers well after the sun goes down.
Cheyenne slides me a coy smile as she passes by, rounding the front of the truck to get in on the passenger side. I slipin behind the wheel as she does, and after buckling up and cranking the key in the ignition, we hit the road.
My wolf has been wily the past couple days, keening to see our mate, and now he’s finally settled. Chey’s scent fills the cab of my truck and I drag it into my lungs like an addict, biting back a groan as it overwhelms my senses.
I missed the way she smells.
