The silence stretches, broken only by the soft hum of tires on asphalt and the occasional horn from passing cars. Gabriel doesn’t fill it with more questions or meaningless reassurances.
He just drives, his attention shifting between me and the road ahead. His concern sends a fresh wave of irritation through me. I don’t need him caring about my state of mind when everything is already too fucking complicated.
The pheromone incident at the club replays in my mind, his scent wrapping around me, forcing a biological response I didn’t consent to.
And yet, underneath the anger, a tiny voice whispers that it worked. His Alpha purr brought me back from the edge when I was about to do something stupid.
I hate that voice.
By the time we reach my apartment complex, my fingers have gone numb from digging so hard into my thighs. The car rolls to a stop in a parking spot.
“You can go home,” I tell him, hand already on the door handle. “I’m fine now.”
Gabriel cuts the engine, plunging us into relative silence. “I don’t think you are.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I snap. “I need to be alone.”
He pops open his door. “I’m not leaving you like this.”
I turn toward him, teeth clenched so tight my jaw aches. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“Saint—”
“Especially not after trying to regulate me with your pheromones at the club.” The accusation bursts out. “You don’t get to control me, Gabe. Not withyour scent, not with your money, and not with your concern.”
His features tighten, the first crack in his calm façade. “It wasn’t about control.”
“Bullshit.” I slam my palm on the dashboard, the sound cracking through the car like a gunshot. “You saw me slipping and decided to take matters into your own Alpha hands.”
“I saw you about to self-destruct in public and tried to help,” he counters, volume climbing to match mine. “Would you rather I let you get arrested? Or let you blow our cover?”
“Our cover?” I laugh, the sound ugly even to my own ears. “There is no ‘our’ anything, rich boy.”
“Fine. Your cover. Your safety. Your freedom.” Gabriel sucks in a breath, his chest rising and falling. “It’s all about you. Better now?”
His anger burns through me, stripping away layers I can’t afford to lose. I reach for the door handle again, shoving it open. “I’m going inside. You’re going home.”
“Saint—”
I’m already out of the car, the night air hitting my overheated skin with a shock. My boots thud across the pavement as I stride toward the entrance to the building, fumbling for my keys with shaking hands.
Footsteps follow behind me, and I don’t need to look to know who’s trailing me like a persistent shadow I can’t get rid of.
“Go home, Gabe.” My keys jangle as I miss the lock on the first and second try.
His hand appears beside mine, steadying my wrist without taking the keys. “Let me help.”
I jerk away from his touch, the contact sending electricity up my arm. “I don’t want your help.”
Finally, I get the key in the lock, and the door opens. I push inside, heading straight for the stairs. Six flights still aren’t enough to calm me down.
Gabriel follows, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell, neither rushing to catch up nor falling behind.
By the time I reach my apartment door, sweat beads along my hairline, and my breath comes in short bursts. The lock cooperates this time, and the door swings open to reveal the sparse living room beyond.
Gabriel follows me inside without invitation, closing the door behind him with a click. With him here, the already small space shrinks inward, as if he steals all the oxygen.
“I need to change,” I mutter, already retreating toward the bedroom.
