We hold gazes, and I silently communicate that she is the thing I want. I don’t intend to settle for anything less.
She yawns, breaking the moment. “Sorry for yawning in your face.”
“Ready for bed?”
Her eyes turn speculative. “For sex?”
I tuck a strand of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. “Eventually. When you’re ready. Right now, you need sleep, and so do I. I’ll play guitar for you tomorrow night.”
“What will you play?”
I brush my thumb against her lower lip. “I’ll have to think of something that will make you fall in love with me.”
Her breath hitches, and she releases a breath she probably intended to be quiet, but I hear it just the same. “And why would you want to do a thing like that?”
I lean in, the tip of my nose sliding along the side of hers, though I don’t kiss her just yet. When I kiss her, I want her to be all in. She isn’t yet. “Because you’re mine, Maisie Lucas. And an alpha always knows when he’s found his mate.”
I pick her up, cradling her against my chest as she yawns and snuggles in.
I nod goodnight to Wyatt when I spot him watching TV in the living room with Hunter, who lifts his hand in a wave. Elias must be asleep already.
Maisie is dozing when I slip her beneath cool cotton sheets and slide in beside her, tucking her against me.
Her lips tilt up in a smile, though her eyes remain closed. “This doesn’t feel like my bed.”
“It’s not.”
Her eyes open, and she glances around, taking in my bedroom, dimly lit by the lamp on my nightstand. There’s not much to see. It has the same black metal bedframe and dresser as the other bedrooms, posters of my favorite musicians—including one of my dad—on the wall, and the sneakers I like to run in beside the door.
Her gaze soon returns to me.
She turns on her side to look at me, and I read so many emotions chasing across her face. Confusion, arousal, need, and wariness, but most of all confusion.
“You are safe with me, Maisie Lucas,” I tell her quietly. “I want you to love, not to destroy. You are safe in my bed and with me.”
She gives me a searching look, then snuggles in, sliding her arm around my waist. “If you snore, I’m leaving immediately,” she warns.
My lips tilt up in a smile as I wrap my left arm around her, reaching out with my right to switch off the lamp. “No, you won’t,” I say, smiling.
“Shut up,” she grumbles and snuggles closer. “Night, Knox.”
I kiss her forehead. “Night, beautiful.”
Chapter 21
Maisie
The drapes block out most of the sun, but not all. Enough light bleeds in from the sides that Knox’s face is clear to me as he sleeps flat on his back, and I can’t help but think…
He’s so beautiful.
I know you’re not supposed to find men beautiful, but whoever made up that particular rule never saw Knox sleeping. Every part of his body tempts me to touch.
He shares bits about himself slowly. His likes, his favorite TV show, small truths that slowly peel back the layers of who he is. When I turn from the TV or a book I’m reading, he’s there, quietly watching me with a hunger that makes my pulse leap and my heart soften.
Sundays have become my favorite day.
One of the best things about the weekends is when he comes back from a morning run and sprawls out on the couch to watch TV. He always knows when I’m watching him, even when his eyes are closed because he’ll call out, “Get over here, baby.” And I always go, snuggling in with my palm against his chest and his lips brushing my forehead. I have fallen asleep in his arms more easily than I ever have in any bed.
