Dozens of eyes snapped to me. Cries of alarm went up from the group of social climbers, even as not-Adrian slipped away toward an inconspicuous side door, casting me a sharp glance over his shoulder as he went.
FOURTEEN
Jez
I WOKE UP WITH AN ACHINGhead and clogged sinuses. Something was vibrating behind my back—a low, rumbling sound that unwound all the tight muscles in my neck and shoulders.
My mate was purring as he watched over my sleep.Gage... was purring.
The stuffy nose left over from my crying jag wasn’t enough to keep his homey scent from clinging to the back of my throat. It surrounded me every bit as warmly as the soft comforter I was tucked beneath.
The sound of the storm was gone, already fading into a distant, dreamlike memory. I made a congested humming noise, unable to stop myself from rubbing my cheek against the pillow cover my head was resting on. The cool cotton felt divine, and I had to get my scent all over it so Gage would smell it every time he laid down on the bed.
The purring intensified as I curled sinuously against the bedding, catlike. Then it faded away. The mattress shifted behind me—a large form sitting upright. Rough fingers stroked my sweat-dried hair back from my temple. My skin sang beneath the simple sensation, sending lovely tingles skittering down my spine.
Were we still pretending?
I thought we must be, or Gage wouldn’t be petting me like this... the gentle touch waking feelings inside me that threatened to crack me right down the middle.
“Feeling better now, kitten?” he asked. “The storm’s over.”
A strange, pleasurable squirming feeling took up residence in my stomach in reaction to the unexpected pet name. Wewerestill pretending.
Did I dare live in this make-believe world for a little bit longer?
I rolled onto my back, looking up at the square-jawed alpha. A wedge of yellow light from the hallway streamed through the open bedroom door, illuminating his face. His perpetual five-o’clock shadow had graduated into full-blown stubble, and a furrow of concern cut small lines between his heavy brows.
No matter how badly I’d provoked him, Gage hadn’t hurt me. He’d fed me and wrapped tiny bandages over my torn fingernails, and held me while I got tears and snot all over his shirt.
That sounds nice, he’d said, when I’d told him I wanted to pretend for a while that all of this was normal.
“Yes,” I told him. “I feel better.”
“That’s good,” he said, like it was something he actually meant. “I’m glad. This whole thing really blows. For you, and for us.”
But I didn’t want to talk about that.
“Can I... have a shower and brush my teeth?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, of course,” he said. The hand that had been stroking my hair rested over my forehead for a moment, as though checking for a fever. “You’ve really gotta eat something afterward, though. And keep it down.”
Hunger was an old friend, but there was little question that it was contributing to the swimmy sense of unreality floating around me like a cloud. On cue, my stomach cramped, letting out a gurgling noise that echoed around the quiet bedroom.
“Okay,” I said meekly.
