She still knelt beside the couch, her hand on his back. So near, the rich unique scent of Ember Grant. She took his hand, and he tried not to grip too hard.
“We said small talk,” he said.
“Okay, what’s your favorite Dickens?”
If only he could know she would stay. But why should she? Ember took the half-empty bowl from his other hand and set it on the side table, and then… Then she leaned in and rested her hand on his chest, and he ached. To hold her.
“Aaron, whatever happened, whatever hurts too much to talk about, I’m sorry for it. And you don’t owe me the story. But like I said, I’m here. If telling me would help.”
“Why are you so…?”
Her fingers slightly curled against his shirt. “So what?”
Captivating. “Kind.”
She gave a little laugh. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but that…” She shook her head.
“Then those people don’t know you.”
“How kind was it of me to pound on a stranger’s door at five in the morning?”
“It wasn’t unkind. It was determined. Loyal.”
“Wow, you might be delirious after all.” She put a hand to his forehead.
And went still. So near. Her forthright gray eyes, her mouth poised with lips slightly parted, her breath gentle against his face, her sweet spiced scent. Aaron loosened his grip on her hand and trailed his fingers over her wrist, up her arm. She didn’t move away. The hand on his forehead smoothed his hair back, then cupped the side of his face. Her thumb traced his cheekbone.
They leaned in at the same moment, her fingers pushing up into his hair, and oh, how he wanted to taste, but he couldn’t touch her and lose her. He turned his head, and her lips brushed his jaw. The contact felt like a brand on his skin. How he wanted Ember.
“Right,” she said. “Chair across the room it is.”
The rejection in her voice, its sharp metallic addition to her scent, burned his guts no less than Malachi had done by putting the fear of the alpha into her. He bent forward to ease it.
“Oh—is the pain bad?”
“No,” he said. “It’s not that.”
“It’s…not?”
Stupid honesty, stoking the fire inside. “You’re leaving.”
“I…I guess I am, yeah. In a few days.”
“I can’t…” Man up and meet her eyes. “I don’t want this only for a few days.”
She blinked several times. “Definethis.”
“Us, this thing happening between us, this deep intense…thing.”My mate. Getting to know my mate, wanting to keep you always.
She sat motionless, wordless, wide-eyed. At last she said, “So that’s it. You’re not uninterested, but the future’s not guaranteed, so every time something sparks, you’re going to keep dousing it.”
“What?” Dousing it? The opposite of what he was trying to do. “I—I’ve been trying to show you.”
“Show me? Are you serious? Never mind, clearly you’re serious. Okay.” Ember drew a long breath, let it out, and took both his hands. Hers were soothingly cool. She looked straight into his face and spoke slowly, as though the depth of his stupidity had just been made clear to her. “Give me one example of something you’ve done to show me that you’re interested in pursuing an actual relationship with me.”
His mind blanked. Too tired. Or maybe… “Getting to know you. Letting you get to know me.”
“Platonic,” she said.
