Page 35 of Sweetheart: Part One

He paused, the door still almost shut as he peered back out at me.

“No.” That was all he said, and then it clicked shut.

Right.

I fisted my palm, eyes darting about the huge living room. There was no one there to see my blazing cheeks.

* * *

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Drake in my room. We watched a TV show together until evening came, though we chatted through it all. At dinner, we went out in the main living room, which hosted a massive dining table beside the towering windows overlooking the gardens. I examined the pool as we ate a really good chicken casserole.

“Is that a maze?” I asked after I’d finished. Beyond the pool and tiled area was a large garden stretching outward. There were clumps of trees, a firepit, and what definitely looked like a sea of perfectly trimmed hedges.

“Yeah. Came with the property, but we upkeep it,” Drake said, following my gaze. “They actually used it to hide the old Alpha’s Hook in the middle—not a cost effective strategy, pricey as it is to have them removed. Mazes are a bitch to upkeep.”

I was distracted by that for a moment. An Alpha’s Hook was a metal ring lodged deep into the ground with the strength to chain an alpha, aura and all. Most had been ripped out, too tangled with nastier parts of our history, before The Institute and regulations.

“Why would you buy a place with one?” I asked, curious.

Drake shrugged. “A lot of these bigger properties still have them. We thought it was a bit funny, to be honest. And you know, if Ebony gets too out of hand, we can always just—”

“You don’t,” I cut him off, eyes wide.

“Nah.” Drake grinned. “Never used it.”

As his gaze scanned the maze again, I took the opportunity to tuck the knife from my meal into a napkin and stash it in my hoodie pocket before he noticed. Not that I didn’t trust Drake to deal with him, but Ebony’s appearance in my room had really set me on edge. I’d feel better with something in my bedside drawer.

It was late, and we were back in my room by the time Drake told me Rook was home. “He said he’d come see you,” Drake said. “Do you want me to stay?”

Rookwantedto see me? I’d been planning ways to ask him to spend time with me, my confidence shot by Love and his damn deadpan responses.

That was good though, right?

Really fucking good, especially after he’d said he was considering signing me.

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

So Drake left, telling me to text if I needed anything, and that Rook would knock when he was ready.

I panicked as I waited, unsure what he was expecting. More movies? Or should I get dressed into clothes I could leave on, in case he wanted to go out? I did my hair as I waited.

Drake and Ebony were both such extremes of what I’d expected, it was strange, now lingering in the anxious middle. It was like a first date with someone you liked.

I both knew nothing of Rook, and had literally crushed on him for years. I didn’t know enough of him to scrub that simple idea of him from my mind.

What if he didn’t like me, like Ebony didn’t? Or Love? None of them had caught my scent and weren’t aware of the scent match. What if the only attraction between us was hormones?

I wanted more than that. Scent matches were supposed to be more—true compatibility. The scents… they should just be the beacon. Ishouldbe enough for these men. Yet, I was failing for Ebony—failing even for Love.

I focused on my hair, braiding it and unbraiding it anxiously now, trying to ignore the nagging worry that I might be so broken that even a scent match wasn’t enough…

I scrolled through the music on my phone, and then began to sing along to More Precious than Treasure, by Heart.

Finally, there was a knock on my door, making me jump. It was super late by now, and I was sure he wasn’t intending to take me out.

But before I could even hurry from the bathroom, the door was opening.

Rook stepped in, phone in his hand, barely looking up at me as he entered. I paused, unsure. Hereallywasn’t dressed for leaving. His robe hung open, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath. His skin was a rich ochre, smooth and tight with muscles. I knew that already, though. I’d seen him topless enough times in movies that it didn’t affect me.

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