“No.”
“No what?”
Hands shaking. Trembling inside too. As he huddled there, her scent shifted, softened as if she knew somehow what was happening to him, knew he didn’t want to be afraid and couldn’t make it stop.
“I’m listening. I’m here. It’s safe with me, remember?”
He did. “I never stopped, Kelsey. Missing you. Wanting you.”
“Wanting?” she whispered.
“I want… If…if you think we could…try?”
She pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Trevor.”
He drew her into his arms, into his lap. He would never again push her away. He would never again make her feel unwanted. Kelsey pressed her palms to his sides, tilted her lips toward his. He cradled the curve of her back along his arm. His other hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb tracing the silk of her cheek.
“Mine,” he whispered, a wolf speaking to his mate though she didn’t know it.
His mouth seized hers. She was sweet and soft, eager and insistent. Her fingers curled in his shirt, and she pushed him against the couch. Time melted away. Her palms stroked from his shoulders down to his hips. Her fingers splayed in his hair and cupped the back of his neck. She kissed him in ways neither of them had known to kiss last time they’d been together.
“Trevor,” she said against his mouth, and how he wanted. Needed.
Somehow they didn’t lose their minds or their clothes. Slowly they pulled apart, both of them breathless. They had stretched out on the rug at some point, twined limbs and fused lips and hungry hands. Her hair was a mess, and he chuckled and tried to smooth it. She nestled into him and pressed her cheek to his chest.
“We just made out in Maggie’s living room,” she whispered.
“On her green distressed-Persian rug,” he whispered back.
She giggled. “Her what kind of rug? How do you know that?”
“I picked it up from the store, and I had to make sure it was the one she ordered.”
“You sweet boy.”
“Uh, what?”
Kelsey wriggled against him, trying to get closer. “You’re a man now. Um, obviously. But that’s how you’ve been in my memory. My sweet blue-eyed boy.”
“Oh.”
“Trevor?”
“Hm?”
“How…how have I been? In your memory?”
My mate. Mine. Lost to me yet mine. He ran his hand slowly down her back, and the way she arched it, his touch must still do to her exactly what hers did to him—a thought that brought fresh heat with its triumph. “My Kelsey. You’ve been my Kelsey.”
“Even though…?” This time her little squirm wasn’t sensual. She was trying to sit up. She wanted to talk.
Trevor pushed himself up and raised her at the same time. They got to their feet, then nestled together on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Even though what?” he said.
“Well…this is kind of awkward, but…Ember and Sydney told me about this wolf thing I didn’t know… Somewhere out there, you have a mate. This one woman who’s…like…chosen by fate for you, or something.”
Her words skewered his chest like a flaming arrow. He flinched, and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes.
