For some reason, the question had heat rushing into Dakota’s face. Even when he pressed his cheek against my chest to hide, I could feel his flush against my skin.
“Not exactly . . . ”
“Not exactly?”
He grimaced and peeked up at me. “Not at all.” He took a deep breath, and it hitched in his chest before he let it out. “I’m haunted.”
I blinked. “Haunted? Like, with ghosts? What the hell do you mean, haunted?”
“I mean, when we went to Japan, I... picked up a hitchhiker, kind of. My great-great-grandfather, who is, yes, a ghost. He’skind of... attached. To me. It’s not a big deal. He’s just been around, and we’re handling it, but I don’t want to like, blast his spirit out of existence, you know? So... I was talking to him.”
I blinked.
SinceJapan? It’d been weeks.
“He helped me, though!” Dakota was beaming and chipper, and it only appeared mostly forced. “To figure out how to help you, I mean. He knew the antidote and how to prepare it. He’s... okay, he’s been kind of a dick, but he’s getting better. Less... you know, speciesist. He’s grown a lot, so it’s been kind of, ah, good? I guess?”
All the times Dakota had glanced off into a corner like a cat seeing something none of us could. Every time he’d interjected, annoyed beyond anything happening in the moment.
I’d discounted it all as stress. And?—
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry you. There’s already so much going on, and by the time I even realized, we were dealing with Cash and the challenge and, I don’t know, it’s a magical problem.”
“But it’s a magical problem, happening toyou,” I whispered.
I hated the idea that I could miss something like this, that Dakota could have any struggle that he kept to himself.
“Is he here now?” I asked.
Dakota’s gaze flicked toward a chair against the wall. “He says hello. His name is Kosuke.”
I blew out a breath. “Hello, Kosuke-san.”
I didn’t know if I was looking at the right place, but it didn’t really matter. Immediately, my attention was right back on Dakota. I didn’t care about ancient, racist ghosts.
I cared about my mate, and that he trusted me, even when things were difficult.
“Dakota—” I pushed up on my elbow, and Dakota fell onto his back under me, sinking into the pillows.
He bit his lip. “Yeah?”
“I understand why you didn’t tell me, and I appreciate you wanting to keep stress off my plate.”
“But?”
I smiled, leaning over him and combing my fingers through his soft hair. “But you’re my mate. To me, that means we haveoneplate, and I want to know everything that’s on it, okay? As soon as you feel okay to share it with me.”
Dakota stared at me, his eyes wide, and I realized that him withholding this had less to do with him not trusting me, than with the fact that he’d never had anyone who was all in on sharing everything with him.
But that was me, and if it took a hundred years and me learning how to ask every single day just to make sure I didn’t miss something again, that’s what we were going to do.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Then he leaned in and kissed me, and my breath must’ve not been that bad, really, because when he slipped his tongue between my lips, he groaned and pressed in deeper.
It was a slow, sweet kiss that didn’t promise anything more, but when he pulled back, I sighed dreamily. “I cannot wait to fuck you again.”
