I pressed a finger to my chin. “Have I?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
I winced. “Oh.”
“You made it very clear during our first meeting that you were only using me,” Griffin went on. “In our subsequent meeting, you were practically vibrating at the first chance to run away.”
I stared in shock. “I - I wasn’t - ”
“Tell me I’m wrong, Jake.”
I shut my mouth. Had I really been that obvious?
Some of the challenge melted away from Griffin’s expression and he softened. “I knew you didn’t care for alphas. That was clear during our first night.”
“You knew I was using you,” I repeated, “and you didn’t care?”
He shrugged. “Not particularly. It was a mutual thing. I needed that night as badly as you did.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “And by the way, I enjoyed it immensely.”
Memories of our intimacy flooded into my mind, and I shoved them aside, even though my face remained flushed and warm.
“Okay, fine.” I crossed my arms. “So now what? Do you want an apology?”
Griffin faced me directly. I became aware of how close we were standing, and how he towered over me.
“No, I don’t,” he said. “I just want to know one thing.”
“And that is?”
“What is this between us?” He gestured to me, then himself. “I can’t find the right words to describe it. Are we acquaintances? Friends? One-time lovers?”
My blush turned deeper. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question to ask me at work.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding that sorry. “But we both know that nobody’s here. Don’t run away from the question.” Now he crossed his arms, too. “You do that often. Deflect.”
I bristled. “Okay, you don’t need to psychoanalyze me, doctor.”
He paused, waiting for my reply. My chest tightened. He wassoclose to me. That familiar, intoxicating scent returned - the same one I’d experienced at the café. It overpowered the smell of wood chips in the air. I licked my lips.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I… I don’t think I know you well enough to say.”
“Don’t you?” He smiled. “I wouldn’t exactly say we’re strangers to each other.”
“No,” I conceded. “Not strangers. Not really acquaintances, either, seeing as we’ve seen each other’s junk.”
He chuckled and he extended a hand to shake. “Yes. So, friends, then?”
Something in me reached out and wanted to take it - to grab the low-hanging fruit and settle on ‘friends.’ But it didn’t soundright.My emotions were a mess again, stormy and chaotic, completely disorganized.
And that scent was making everything worse.
Griffin’s smile fell slightly. His fingers began to curl, like he was about to withdraw his hand, but I wasn’t going to leave him hanging. I grasped it.
“Yes,” I said quickly. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
That scent was intoxicating, flooding my senses, making it hard to think. My mouth turned dry. Griffin gazed down at me with concern.
