He exhaled against my mouth, a sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a hum, and my chest tightened.
The touch deepened naturally. No rush, no demand, just that slow, magnetic pull I’d felt from the moment I’d seen him again.
He tilted his head slightly, his curls brushing my cheek. I deepened the kiss and gripped the front of his jacket lightly, not quite ready to let go.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but it felt like it. Gentle and certain all at once, like he’d been waiting for it as much as I had.
When we finally parted, our foreheads rested together for a second. His breath mingled with mine, both of us smiling without meaning to.
“You always this smooth?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, still catching on a laugh.
“Only when it counts,” I murmured.
Zack chuckled, the sound low and fond. He gave my hand a squeeze, thumb brushing along my knuckles before he stepped back toward the door.
“Goodnight, Mark,” he said.
“Night, Zack.”
He disappeared inside, and the faint sound of his footsteps faded up the stairs.
I stood there a moment longer, staring at the closed door, the ghost of his touch still on my lips, my wolf quiet but thrumming beneath my skin.
By the timeI got home, most of the family was already asleep. I kicked off my shoes by the door and padded down the hallway, my footsteps muffled by the new rug. A few picture frames gleamed faintly in the low light.
Snapshots of birthdays, hunts, and family dinners.
My chest tightened for a second as I passed one of me and my brothers when we were kids. Mud on our clothes, grins too wide for our faces. We’d been unstoppable back then.
In the kitchen, the hum of the fridge was the only sound until I noticed the faint glow of a phone screen.
Chris was leaning against the counter, his hair a mess, dressed in a T-shirt and flannel pants. He looked up when I walked in, one brow lifting.
“There’s leftovers from dinner,” he said, jerking his chin toward the fridge.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “But I already ate.”
I filled it halfway with water, trying to sound casual, though the faint smile tugging at my mouth probably gave me away.
Chris’s mouth curved into that trademark knowing grin. “Yeah, I figured. You smell like diner food and a certain wolf.”
I froze mid-step, groaning. “You’re seriously creepy sometimes, you know that?”
Chris laughed, putting his phone down on the counter. “You’re seriously obvious sometimes. You like him.”
I gave him a shove on the shoulder, not hard enough to do anything but make him chuckle.
“I’m really in trouble this time, Chris,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “We kissed. I really like Zack, and I don’t want to screw things up.”
Chris studied me for a moment, his teasing expression softening. “Then don’t.”
“Yeah, easier said than done,” I muttered.
He pushed off the counter and came to stand beside me, crossing his arms.
“You’ve got more confidence than you think, Mark. You just hide it behind that whole‘I’m chill, nothing fazes me’thing,” he said.
I let out a breath of laughter, leaning back against the counter. “That obvious, huh?”
