“Now?”
“Maybe later. After coffee.” Connor pressed closer. “But I wanted you to know I was thinking about it.”
Leyden’s eyes darkened. “Noted.”
They lay there another moment before Leyden carefully extracted himself and headed for the bathroom. Connor watched him go, admiring the shift of muscles under Leyden’s T-shirt, the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips.
Connor had looked before. Appreciated Leyden’s appearance in an abstract way, the way someone might appreciate a painting.
It felt different.
It felt like noticing.
Connor made coffee while Leyden showered. He leaned against the counter, sipping from his mug, replaying yesterday’s kiss in vivid detail.
His body had responded. Not dramatically, not the way Leyden described his own arousal - urgent and demanding and impossible to ignore. But Connor had felt... something. A warmth low in his belly. An urge to get closer, press harder, take more.
Leyden came into the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, hair still damp from the shower.
Connor’s breath caught.
Leyden poured his own coffee, seemingly unaware of Connor’s stare. He moved with unconscious grace, all controlled power and easy confidence.
Connor wanted to touch him. Run his hands over those broad shoulders, trace the muscles in his back, feel the heat of his skin.
“You okay?” Leyden asked.
Connor blinked. “Fine.”
“You’re staring again.”
“You look good.”
Leyden’s eyebrows shot up. “I…thank you?”
“Welcome.” Connor took another sip of coffee, suddenly fascinated by the way Leyden’s throat moved when he swallowed.
What the hell is happening to me?
They worked in the office that morning, reviewing more security reports and responding to pack emails - both things that seemed never-ending.
Lonnie had apparently left the area the night before and was requesting admittance to Connor’s old pack - Connor laughed when he saw that. Davis would keep the youngster in line.
There was also, surprisingly, an email from the Riverside Pack claiming Trixie - another one of Leyden’s former bed partners - was requesting a position in a new pack. “You can handle that one,” Connor had said, pointing it out to his mate.
Normal in other words. The new normal Connor was getting used to. He sat across from Leyden, ostensibly focused on his laptop screen.
But in reality, he couldn’t stop glancing up.
Watching Leyden type, his long fingers moving over the keyboard with practiced ease. The furrow between his brows when he concentrated. The way he absently ran his hand through his hair, leaving it messily perfect.
Connor’s wolf rumbled contentment.Mate. Beautiful mate. Ours.
The word “beautiful” lodged in Connor’s brain.
He’d thought it before. Acknowledged Leyden’s objectively attractive appearance. But this felt visceral, like noticing for thefirst time that water was wet or fire was hot. An obvious truth that suddenly carried weight.
Leyden glanced up, catching Connor’s stare. “What?”
