“Not successful.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, looking around. He frowned at a tree on the edge of the cul-de-sac. “Did I piss on that tree?”
“Three times. You can go look if you don’t believe me. The snow is still yellow. You pissed on my landscaping too, and on that curb over there.”
“Fuck. Okay.” He nodded, his troubled gaze on the tree. “This is starting to feel familiar now.”
“You really don’t remember?” she asked, starting to feel uncertain as her anger began to fade.
“I haven’t been feeling well. I think the wolf is sick or something.”
“If this is the part where you told me you were sick, and that’s why you blocked me, save it, Dodger. It’s fine.” She shook her head, disappointed. “I have to finish getting ready for work.”
“Right.” When she reached the door, Dodger said, “Hey, Destiny?”
“Yes?” she asked softly as she turned around.
“My wolf…” He ran his hand down his jaw. “My wolf is kind of messed up. I’m not blaming my ghosting you on being sick. I have my reasons though.”
“Why?”
He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “You’re cold, and I can see you shivering from here, and I can’t talk about this if I think you’re uncomfortable. Either let me come in or let me talk to you in my truck where I can get some heat on you.”
She was indeed shivering. She couldn’t hide it now. “Okay. You can come in while I get ready for work.”
“Thanks.” He turned and made his way to his truck, and when he got there, he pulled out a big paper bag and a drink holder with four coffees in it.
“What is that for?” she asked.
“You. I barely know you. I don’t know what you like for breakfast, so I got options.” Dodger pushed the door handle and let himself in while she stood there staring after him. Huh.
“That was very thoughtful of you. It’ll take more than a couple of bagels for me to forgive—”
“Ollie’s breakfast burritos,” he said, holding up the bag, and now she could see the logo.
Okay so this man was good. Ollie’s was infamous around here. The line was usually out the door and down to the corner. “Well played, sir.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, setting the food on the small dining table near her kitchen table.
“If this is the breakup speech, you can save it,” she murmured, feeling drained. “I already figured it all out.”
“Figured out what?”
“That it’s not the same for you.”
He cocked his head and studied her face. “What is it like for you?”
“Oh, no. I’m not doing that. I’m not telling you how invested I am so you can call me crazy for my feelings being too much too fast. You can think whatever you want.”
“Did you cry?” he asked suddenly.
Gads, that question caught her off-guard. He stood in her living room, unnatural blue eyes boring into her, feeling like he took up so much more space than he actually did.
She refused to answer him and padded toward her bedroom. “I’m going to get ready now.”
He followed her and leaned on the open doorframe. “I’ve been a mess.”
“This is what boys do. They ghost girls and then go on dates with other people and then come back to the nice ones as some kind of challenge to see how many times they will let them in. I don’t want to play your games.”
