Dane looked at her then, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Seems like you’re doing fine on your own.”
She let out a breath that was halfway to a laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to say a lot of things I don’t mean to. Or…things I mean, but shouldn’t say out loud. Or I say them badly. Or…”
He raised an eyebrow, and she groaned, flopping her face into his chest. “Please make me stop talking.”
He laughed then, a low, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. His hand smoothed over her back once, twice, a long, absent stroke that threatened to unravel her all over again.
“You’re fine, professor,” he said, “you just think too hard.”
“You say that like it’s not a lifelong affliction.”
“Might be,” he murmured, “but it’s kind of cute.”
That stopped her breath short.
Cute?
Dane calling hercutefelt like someone had short-circuited her brain. Not hot. Not sexy. Notproper. Just…cute. The word sat in her chest like a soft little bomb.
She tried to cover her reaction with a snort. “Well, don’t let that get around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“Of what? Startling civilians with dissertation trivia?”
She elbowed him lightly in the ribs, and he caught her wrist, tugging her up until her face hovered above his. Their noses nearly brushed, and his eyes were darker now, slower. Warmer.
“You’re thinking again,” he murmured.
“I can’t help it.”
His fingers tightened just slightly around her wrist. Not rough. Just…grounding.
Lola’s heart skittered.
She wanted to kiss him again.
She wanted to stay right here forever.
She wanted to ask a thousand questions and take it all back at the same time.
Instead, she said, “This is weird for me.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t usually…do this.”
“Sleep with, what was it…uncivilized enforcers?”
A surprised laugh escaped her before she could stop it, “No. I mean…yes. Obviously, no. But I also don’t usually feel”—she paused, fingers tightening in the sheet—“connected. To anyone.”
His gaze softened a fraction.
“I was always a bit of a stray,” she said, not quite looking at him, “even in my home pack. I always felt like I was watching everyone else belong. Like I had the wrong manual for how to be a person.”
“That’s bullshit.”
She glanced at him, startled.
“You’re sharp as hell,” he said, “and you care. Even when you pretend you don’t. But I see you, Lola. I know how much you care.”