I blink back the moisture in my eyes and look back at the screen, trying to figure out what he’s getting at. “Huh?”
“You don’t think Archangel is family? Me? The rest of the guys. They all have your fucking back. You are stuck with us. Even fucking Coach Hawke would go to bat for you. We all fucking love you. How much have you taken care of us? You don’t think you deserve that in return.” He stares right at me.
I drape my arm over my face, so he won’t see how fucking red my eyes probably are. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s not the same, it’s better. These are the people choosing you, Wolfe. Blood is bullshit. You deserve so much better than that asshat who calls himself your father.”
I suck in a breath, trying to calm my voice enough to get words out. “What if I’ve fucked it all up with Archangel?”
“Nah, he loves you. Tell him to get his head out of his ass.”
“Do you think we need to call this off?” I ask, not really sure his solution will work.
“It all depends on how you both can handle it. But it seems like neither of you are.”
My heart sinks, and I don’t know why. I don’t want to let go. Is it because Stephanie will know? I’m not sure it’s that, but it feels like failing. I hate it.
“Go talk to Archangel.”
“He’s not here.”
“Where the fuck is he?”
I shrug. “He went somewhere with Seaborn.”
Lovelace frowns. “I’ll call Seaborn. Go to fucking sleep, but talk to him in the morning.”
“Maybe I should wait up?”
“Do you think that’s going to make anything better?”
Another call rings through, and when I glance at the notification, my stomach drops.
“I need to go.”
Lovelace gives me a look, but I hang up.
I don’t answer the call. I never answer her calls.
NINETEEN
ARCHANGEL
Wolfe is snoring lightly when I open his door. I’m just glad it wasn’t locked, and I didn’t have to knock. I step into his room and freeze. It feels wrong to wake him up to have this conversation, so I linger by the door, feeling a little like Edward watching Bella sleep.
“Do you get off on watching me, or are you debating killing me?” Wolfe mutters, making me laugh.
I cross to sit on the edge of his bed, my skin prickling and my heart racing. “I was hoping you’d still be awake, but when you weren’t, I didn’t know if I should wake you.” I don’t know why I decided to be honest, but I think we both need it.
“You opening the door woke me.” His words are careful, reminding me that he’ll always be on high alert while sleeping.
“I’m sorry.” I pull one knee into my chest, turning more to face him.
“I’m used to it. I sleep much better than I used to after years of living with you.” He’s soft and sleepy, hair all tussled in the soft glow of his nightlight. It’s still the one I bought him when he moved in with me.
“I’m glad. You deserve that.”
He reaches out for me. “Come lay down.”
