I bite back a groan. The idea of being trapped in this vehicle with Billy as my heat symptoms worsen is a special kind of torture. Already, I can feel sweat beading along my hairline, my clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin.
“I can’t be out here,” I state matter-of-factly, and Beau nods, understanding the gravity of the situation immediately.
“Options?” Billy asks.
“There’s a motel off Route 16,” Beau says. “Small, out of the way. We could hole up there until it passes.”
He means more than just the storm.
I close my eyes, imagining being confined in a small motel room while a storm rages outside. With Billy. While I’m in heat. It’s like the universe is determined to torture me.
“Carla?” Billy’s voice is closer now. “Are you okay with that plan?”
I open my eyes to find him watching me with concern. For a moment, I’m caught in his gaze, drowning in dark eyes that see too much.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” I manage, once again, looking to Beau who nods, expression grim.
Billy frowns, looking between me and Beau, and for a second, his eyes brighten, lighting up from within, as his bear senses something going on. He’s clearly not buying my forced casualness. Sliding along the back seat, bringing his huge body closer to mine, his hand lifts, hovering near my face, and for a wild second, I think he’s going to touch me.
I hold my breath, torn between wanting to jerk away but also wanting to lean into his palm.
But he drops his hand back to grab a blanket off the back of the seat and drapes it around me instead, and I exhale, my breathing laboured.
“You’re shaking. Here.”
“There’s water behind you,” Beau says, eyeing me in the mirror again. “The AC’s up if you’re too warm.”
Too warm. Understatement of the century. I’m burning alive from the inside out.
I take the blanket anyway, wrapping it around myself like armor. Maybe if I don’t look at Billy, don’t breathe in his scent, the symptoms will ease. Maybe I can get through this without humiliating myself by begging my mate to touch me.
Billy shifts beside me, resting an arm protectively along the headrest.
Has he figured it out? Does he know what’s happening to me? Bears go into heat every mating season regardless, but wolves only go into heat when they meet their mates. If he knows that, it won’t take a genius to connect the dots.
The thought sends a spike of panic through me. He saved me because it was “the right thing to do,” not because he wants me. Probably thinks I’m nothing but a problem to solve, a good deed to cross off his list.
Bears choose their mates. Why would he want me when I look like a mess and stink to high heaven?
I close my eyes again, focusing on my breathing. In, out. Slow and steady.
Don’t think about the man next to you. Don’t think about his hands, his mouth, the way he would feel pressed against you, inside you...
Fuck. This is bad.
“How long have you been feeling sick?” Billy asks quietly.
I keep my eyes closed, pretending I don’t hear the concern in his voice. “I’m not sick.”
“Carla.”
The way he says my name, soft but insistent, makes my wolf whine with need.
Damn bear senses. I crack open one eye to glare at him. “I’m fine. Just tired. I need a long shower and a good sleep.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then nods, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Try to rest.”
Rest. Right. Like I could sleep with my body humming like a live wire, and my wolf clawing at me from within, desperate to get closer to her mate.
