She looked at him warily. "Why?"
"Body heat." He kept his tone flat, logical. "It's the most efficient way to stay warm."
Jules blinked, her cheeks flushing a bright, frantic pink that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. Her hands immediately started moving, fluttering up to tug at the fringe of her scarf.
"Um… Lex," she started, her voice jumping an octave. "I don't—I mean, I appreciate the offer. I do. But I'm okay. Really. I have the blankets. Three of them. That's a lot of wool. And I wouldn't want to... impose." She let out a breathless, nervous laugh that sounded too loud in the quiet cabin. "You've made it pretty clear that you like your space. Personal bubbles and all that. I'm very respectful of bubbles. I wouldn't want to make things weird or encroach on your side of the couch just because my teeth are chattering a little bit. I can handle it. I can just... add another sweater? Or do jumping jacks."
She was doing it again. Talking to fill the silence, her anxiety spilling out in a torrent of words to keep him at arm's length.
"I'm not going to try anything," he interrupted, his voice dropping to a low rumble intended to soothe. He held her gaze, needing her to trust him. "Just... let me keep you warm. Please."
The please did it. She eyed him for a minute, then scooted closer, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his side. Even through the multiple layers of clothes she was wearing, the contact sent a jolt of heat through his blood, but he locked it down. This was about keeping her safe. Warm. Nothing else.
Except she fit against him perfectly. Like she was made to be there. And when she unconsciously burrowed closer, her hand splaying across his chest, he had to close his eyes and count to ten.
"You really do run hot," she murmured. "It's like having a personal heater."
"Benefit of a high metabolism."
She was quiet for a moment. Then, "Tell me about your ex."
The question caught him off guard. "What?"
"The whole time you've been here, I've never seen you with anyone, so I'm assuming you're single. But there must have been someone. Before."
He tensed. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I want to understand you. And something tells me whoever she was, she hurt you."
Perceptive. Too perceptive. After a long pause, he said, "Her name was Evie."
He hadn't thought about her in a long time, and he really didn't want to dig up his past now. But Jules waited for him to get his thoughts together, not pushing, and somehow that made it easier.
"She was... like me. From my world." He chose his words carefully. "I thought we worked. Same background, same... traditions. But I couldn't give her what she needed."
"Which was?"
"Me. I held back. Kept parts of myself locked away. She said I was too closed off. Too controlled." He laughed bitterly. "She was right."
Jules shifted to look up at him. "Why did you hold back?"
Because even then, some part of me knew she wasn't mine. Because my wolf never accepted her. Because I was waiting for you without even knowing it.
"I thought it would keep her from getting too close," he said instead.
"Did it work?"
"No. It just made us both miserable."
Her hand found his where it rested on his thigh, fingers intertwining. "I was engaged once. A few years ago. Before you moved here."
Now it was his turn to go still. "What happened?"
"Oh, the typical scenario. I came home unexpectedly and found him in our bed. With my best friend." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Well, ex-best friend now. They're married and living in Denver. They have two kids."
Rage, hot and violent, flooded through him. His wolf wanted blood. Wanted to hunt down the man who'd hurt her and tear him apart. "Jules?—"
"It's fine. It's ancient history. But it always made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. If I was too much. Too talkative. Too honest. Too clingy. Too... everything."
