The infection is so bad, I don’t hear the footsteps on the stairs until it’s too late.
The door is already swinging open when I realize Cole is coming in.
My heart tries to leave my body through my mouth before I toss the phone down on the bed like it burns. “Hey...” Sure. Very casual. Very smooth.
His gaze moves from my face to the phone and back again. One eyebrow slowly arches, and his lips purse before the shopping bags in his clutches drop to the floor. “What were you doing?” he asks, crossing the room in a few long strides.
This is it. This is when all of his promises to protect me and keep me safe fall flat. “I…” Why did a single syllable come out so shaky?
He reaches over me for the phone, and that’s when it happens before I can think about it. I flinch, drawing my knees up to my chest, ready for whatever happens next. The inevitable pain that’s such an integral part of my life.
“Nora.” He almost sounds disappointed. When I force myself to look up at him, I see nothing but sadness. “I’m not going to hurt you. Is that what you thought I was about to do? No one will ever hit you again.”
Can I believe him? I guess I’ll find out once he figures out I was going through his phone.
He picks it up, scrolls through it, then lifts a shoulder and tosses it back to the bed. “You can read my messages if you want to. I have nothing to hide from you.”
This is almost too bizarre. I should be used to it by now, right? “Really?”
“Sure. You’re my mate. I trust you.”
“Who is Sarah?” I blurt out. He has nothing to hide? Let’s find out.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “A friend. Nobody important.” When he tips his head to the side, his smirk turns into a grin. “What are you asking? Whether I’ve slept with her?”
He’s enjoying this. It almost makes me wish he would hit me, instead. “I guess so.”
The rush of relief that comes with him shaking his head is powerful, loosening my chest, clearing some of the storminessin my head. “No,” he replies. “Never. With anyone. I was waiting for my mate.”
He was waiting for me? I was his first? Deep inside, part of me clings to this tiny bit of information and holds it close.
Then he rubs his hands together briskly, like he’s excited. “I want to show you what we bought. Tara went a little crazy, but I think you’ll like it. At least I hope you do.”
He picks up the bags and leaves them on the bed for us to unpack together. “Oh, my god, look at all of this!” I can’t help but laugh almost in disbelief at everything he brought back. There are clothes—leggings, shirts, socks, and underwear. In another, there’s just about every kind of sweet-smelling body wash, lotion, shampoo, and conditioner imaginable. There are also a lot of things I don’t even know what to do with. Skin care products mostly, with names I don’t think I could pronounce if I tried.
“Books,” I whisper, running my fingers over the spines. So many books.
“I didn’t know what kind you like, so I went off of what I found at the house.” Then he dips his hand into one of the bags and pulls out a phone. “I got this for you, too.”
A phone of my own. I was too young to have one when Mom was alive. She used to tell me I had to wait until I was twelve. “I think I’m the only person in the whole world who didn’t have a phone until now,” I whisper, staring down at it in wonder. It’s really for me? He thought of everything.
Including what rains down on the bed when he turns the bag upside down. Chocolate, tons of it. Bars, truffles, bags of candy. “I grabbed every kind Icould find.”
“I’ll be eating this for a year!” I have to laugh, if only in disbelief. “You’re spoiling me.”
“That was the idea. But there’s one more thing.” There’s a wicked gleam in his green eyes when he ducks back out of the room, reaching for something in the hallway.
I can hardly believe my eyes. This can’t be real. There’s no way he’s carrying a gorgeous, shining acoustic guitar. “Are you serious?” My hands shake a little as I reach for it when he holds it out. It’s so beautiful, brand new.
“Of course. Don’t you think it’s about time you start practicing again? I told you. I want you to have everything you want or need. And if you decide you don’t like playing, maybe I’ll buy a piano. Who knows?”
The idea makes me laugh. It’s kind of absurd, but I wouldn’t put it past him after everything he’s done today. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“And there you are, thinking you didn’t know what to say.” Smirking, he clears a spot on the bed and sits down. “I also got you something else. I visited the pack doctor—he’s a family friend, practically one of us. He gave me an ointment that should help speed up the healing of your bruises and the wounds on your feet. Can I put it on you?”
A cold chill passes over me at the thought of inviting his touch. Though the idea of healing quickly is appealing enough to make me reluctantly agree. “Okay. Sure.” I turn to the side, facing the wall behind the bed, then slowly lift the back of my shirt to expose the ugliness. I’m sure the most recent bruises are at the peak of their nauseating color by now.
“This will help,” he murmurs, and a moment later, something cool touches my skin.
