CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
LUCAS
Ijolted awake, heart thumping. I’d almost fallen asleep before Kit climbed off of me last night, had murmured my thanks when he cleaned my stomach, barely opened my eyes as I snuggled into his side. I’d drifted into unconsciousness in the sure knowledge that everything was right with the world.
That knowledge was exposed as a hulking great lie the moment I woke up. Those hours spent sleeping hadn’t solely been used for dreaming and cuddling with Kit. My brain had been busy while my body relaxed in spent bliss, picking through the day and exposing the moments I should have paid a lot more attention to.
I’d been so overwhelmed yesterday by my new ability to kiss someone and actually feel the amazing shit everyone else did that I hadn’t clocked all the clues that pointed towards a horrible conclusion.
Kit was nowhere near as into this as I was.
I tried to keep my breathing deep and even. The last thing I needed right now was for Kit to wake up. He needed to stayasleep until I figured out exactly how much damage I’d caused yesterday.
I’d crashed back into his life like a runaway bull and smashed up some stuff.
I pressed my forehead into the top of his spine. He was curled before me, breathing softly.
Kit was kind. I’d messed up yesterday, but he was a good person. Surely he wouldn’t hold it against me that while I’d been enthusiastic to the point of weirdness, he had been calm and cautious and normal.
My mind raced over the moments I’d batted away yesterday. My brain had been too overtaken with calculating how soon I could get my lips on Kit’s skin to register them properly.
He’d demanded a shower after we’d come in our underwear, like he couldn’t bear the reminder of such a sorry excuse for a shared orgasm. He’d tolerated my clinginess in the shower up to a point, but had chucked me out after I’d had a basic wash. He had to keep elbowing me out of the way as he cooked, had tried to do a puzzle with me rather than engage in anything intimate after we’d eaten.
The killer was the moment after I’d come inside him. It had felt perfect, like all the missing pieces of what I’d hoped for my whole life had fallen into place. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from sharing that with Kit. I’d told him that he was what I wanted always.
He hadn’t said anything back.
I’d been too sleepy, my new wolfish libido finally satisfied, to fully understand his silence as he’d cleaned us up and climbed into bed.
He’d not attempted to wake me to have a heartbreaking conversation there and then. Instead, he’d let me fall asleep. Lucky for him, I’d figured out what a mess I’d made on my own.
I was such an idiot. I’d waited my whole life to feel like this and as soon as I did, I’d fucked it up.
It did make a twisted kind of sense that when I finally did feel deep and undeniable romantic urges towards someone, they wouldn’t be normal and right. I was too intense, too much too soon. It was a wonder that Kit hadn’t run off during the night.
Maybe he couldn’t, since I was draped over him. Slowly, so that I didn’t wake him and have to face the worst conversation in the history of time, I eased my arms from around his waist and under his back. He snuffled, rubbing his face into the pillow. After a second, his breathing continued in sleepy puffs.
Silently, I untangled myself from the warm blankets and rolled off the bed. I tiptoed over to the door and crawled it open.
I slipped out then pulled it to, leaving it slightly ajar so that the latch catching wouldn’t wake Kit. I crept along the short hallway and locked myself in the bathroom.
Our clothes from last night were still piled on the floor. I tugged mine on, my nakedness much more of a vulnerability now that I knew Kit would wake up and want to talk. He’d need to set boundaries. He indulged me yesterday, but he couldn’t spend every day of the rest of his life trying to match the rampant need inside of me.
Midway through quietly brushing my teeth, I sagged against the sink. My heart, which hadn’t calmed since I’d woken with a horrible sense of clarity, rattled behind my ribs.
I was positive I hadn’t forced Kit into doing anything. He might not have been as boundlessly enthusiastic as I was about having as much of his body on mine at all times as was possible, but there had been no hint he hadn’t enjoyed everything we’d done.
I had to get this desperation for him down to a reasonable level though. I didn’t ever want him to do anything he wasn’t completely happy to.
Dropping my toothbrush into our shared pot, I glared at myself in the mirror. ‘You need to get control of yourself,’ I mouthed. I couldn’t whisper, since Kit would be able to pick that up from his bedroom too easily if he was awake.
I left the bathroom and paused between our bedroom doors. Snuggling back into bed with Kit wasn’t an option despite every fibre of my being recklessly wanting that. I couldn’t impose on him any more than I already had. I needed to calm myself, find a balance between wanting him and wanting literally anything else, before I touched him again.
Hiding away in my room was an option, but my bed would smell of Kit. I didn’t think my aim of bringing my attraction down to a reasonable level would be particularly successful if every breath was tinged with his vanilla scent.
I needed to leave. Kit liked me, but he wasn’t interested in the mess of feelings that had spewed out of me yesterday. I needed to get a handle on them before I faced him again. Then he wouldn’t have to tell me that loads of the stuff I’d said and my inability to allow more than an inch between us yesterday couldn’t continue. I wouldn’t have to hear him say that he didn’t want me nearly as much as I wanted him.
I hurried downstairs, desperate to get out of Kit’s cottage before he woke up. I cringed at each creaky stair, but only the sound of even breathing came from his bedroom.
