“Are you all right, Rudy?” Bowen asked through the door.
“Yeah. Yes. I’m coming out now.” Assessing myself, I felt for my wolf to gauge his reaction. It seemed as if he was settled within me, no longer pushing to come out. There was a sense of eagerness bristling through me, but it didn’t feel as if he was ready to take over.
After undoing all the locks, I pulled the door open. When I saw the concern in the brown eyes behindBowen’s glasses, my heart did a weird somersault in my chest, because the concern wasn’t for himself—as it should have been—but for me.
“Are you… okay?”
The care in his voice had me ready to pull him into my arms and envelop his small frame, but I didn’t trust myself to touch him right now, not with my wolf humming inside of me at Bowen’s nearness.
Running a hand through my disheveled hair, I said, “Yeah. I apologize for handling you the way I did, though. I couldn’t stop from shifting, and I had to hurry.”
Bowen cracked a smile. “I’ve never been thrown over someone’s shoulder before, or carried, for that matter. I thought that only happened in the movies. It was bouncier than I imagined.”
Heat crawled up my neck, mortified by my actions. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was pretty thrilling, to be honest.” Bowen tilted his head back to meet my gaze and gave me a quick smile before looking away. “So, this is your… what? Lair? Den?”
I snorted a laugh. It was surreal to have someone in my space who wasn’t one of my inner circle, and to have someone who knew what I was. “This would be my living room.”
Bowen glanced over his shoulder at me, his brown eyes twinkling behind his glasses, making my heart stop beating altogether. At least it felt that way withthe squeeze in my chest. How did such a simple look affect me so much? I was so transfixed that I stubbed my toe on the corner of my coffee table and nearly fell on top of it. Bowen was suddenly there, catching me with his much smaller form. He didn’t have to support my weight, probably wouldn’t be able to, but he helped keep me from face-planting right in front of him. I didn’t know which was worse—face-planting or licking him?
“Thanks,” I muttered and stood up, trying not to lean into him and soak up his scent and warmth.
Bowen gave a nod and wrapped his fingers around the strap of the bag he still wore. Seeing it gave me pause. Was he feeling… trapped? Was he merely being polite and biding his time until he could run out the door? I didn’t want him to think he had to stay if he didn’t want to.
Scruffing a hand through my hair, my lips pressed into a tight line, even as I could feel my wolf ready to protest within me. “Thanks for talking me down, but, um, you can go if you need to.”
Bowen flinched, and his brows knit together with surprise. “Do you not want me to be here?”
My lips quirked to the side as I tried to figure out how to answer. “I don’t want you to feel like youhaveto be here.”
“What? No. No, I don’t. I’m exactly where I want to be. What would make you thinkthat?”
My eyes lowered to the strap he clutched in front of his chest with the bag hanging at his side. Bowen looked down to see where my eyes fell, and he quickly drew the strap over his head and set it down on the coffee table. “Sorry, it’s sort of a comfort thing, I suppose, and something to do with my hands when I don’t know what to do with them. But… I’d like to stay and talk, if that’s okay?”
Relief filled my entire body. Relief and a weird sense of belonging at seeing his bag on my table. Seeinganyone’sthings in my room was a novelty, but something about the image before me was oddly comforting. Realizing he was waiting for me to respond, I nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“So you remember bringing me here, right?” Bowen asked as he sat on my couch.
There was room next to him, but it would put us too close, and I didn’t know how much I could handle before my beast might try to climb out of me to get to him. I sat on the floor with the coffee table between us. Bowen watched with an arched brow, but said nothing.
“I do, yes.”
“Do you remember what happened on the pickleball court?”
“Mostly. I remember catching your scent and smelling it mixed with another, uh, person’s.”
Bowen shifted until he tucked his feet beneath him, looking completely at home on my couch. It made mewish I could cozy up next to him, but I kept my seat on the floor. “Does that sort of thing happen often?”
“What? Grabbing innocent bystanders and acting like an asshole? No. I swear. It just came over me.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Bowen’s lips quirked, and amusement lit his eyes behind his glasses. “Not remembering. Like when we were on the walking path. Do you often lose track of what’s happening or lose time?”
I shrugged. “Most of the time, actually.”
“That must be scary. I’m sorry, Rudy.” The tone of his voice was so sincere and sweet that it squeezed my heart once more. Not only was Bowen not afraid of me and what I could become, but he seemed to understand some of the fear I’d always kept to myself.
I tucked my knees up and rested my arms on them. “It can be, yeah. Waking up in strange places, not knowing what I had done or if I had hurt anyone, or if anyone had seen me. It’s not necessarily the same for others, but I’ve never really been in control of that side. It’s like I get pushed down into myself and can’t quite connect with it.”
