She hadn't changed any of the furniture, actually.
I took that as a good sign.
"Did you see your studio?" Larson asked me.
I grimaced.
It was full of plants. The woman had gotten angry, let her magic loose, and shut the door afterward. My paintings seemed to have escaped the destruction, tucked in a pile in the corner, underneath some leafy, sprawling bush.
The places they'd used to hang around the house were empty. She had never replaced them with any other art.
The duvet on the bed was different, of course. The one we'd shared sat on the bed in my apartment.
"Her mate will probably clean it out when he moves in here," Larson said, clearly trying to piss me off.
It worked.
I had to breathe through the rage that accompanied the mere mention of him.
Whoever the fuck he was, running with her morning and night on blistered fucking feet. Not checking on her when she didn't show up, either. They must've been texting or something, but how could he not realize she was in so much pain?
On the plus side, it meant they hadn't been fucking. Or he just didn't care that she was in pain when they did.
If it was the latter, I'd have to kill him.Obviously.
Then again, I might have to kill him just for being her mate. Assuming he really was. We could keep her magic under reasonable control by swimming and fucking, assuming she ever forgave me for the murder.
Which was a big assumption, because we'd been at her place for a full twenty-four hours now, and I hadn't had the chance to so much as have a conversation with her since Darius showed up.
I liked the bastard, but he was annoyingly skilled at distancing her from me.
She'd even ignored me when she spent half an hour catching up with Rob while he and Larson snuggled on the couch the night before. They needed to make things official already, but Lars was still being a pain about it.
He wanted to fix the rain first.
I'd tried to convince him how stupid that was at least a few dozen times over the years, but he ignored me even more effectively than Liv.
Larson flashed me a grin. "For her sake, I hope he's powerful enough to take on a shapeshifter."
I picked up the chips he'd dumped on my leg and shoved them back in the bag, brushing the crumbs onto the rug. I'd vacuum later. When she was asleep or something.
Not that she ever slept more than three or four hours at a time. I'd heard her and Darius in the pool again in the middle of the night.
My mind went back to the 1 AM wakeup we had every day of the five years we were together.
I got her off with my fingers or mouth during that wakeup. There were times we fucked, too, but usually I just got to watch her come.
Repeatedly.
Until she fell asleep in my arms.
God, I missed her. The loss was a never-ending ache.
"You're doing the thing where you rub your chest like you're sad again," Lars pointed out.
I glanced down at my chest and realized I was pressing my knuckles to the center of it. "I need to talk to her."
"What are you going to say?"
