“And that makes you guilty?” Flora asks, but it’s more a statement than anything else. The guilt is eating me alive. I reach for anything to bring back the love I had for him. His sweater that’s hung in my closet, and the voicemail recording is all I have left, and yet every time I tug on those memories, I get nothing. Absolutely nothing.
No more heartbreak, no more sadness—nothing. Sometimes, not even guilt. If I can get over Milo, was he ever my mate? There’s a connection, a spark, that is supposed to live forever when you meet your mate, and I thought I had that with Milo.
But our spark died.
And he’s dead.
And I’m not alone anymore.
“Sometimes,” I mutter, trying to hold back my tears and giving Flora a small smile. I hate to admit it, but it feels so good to get that off my chest. She nods and smiles, too.
“So, this means you’re giving Eddie a chance?”
“Fucking finally,” Dylan mutters with a smile.
“I’m givingmea chance,” I say, knowing that it’s Eddie giving me the chance and the other way around. I have to let go of Milo, even if he was my mate, because Eddie deserves the light, and I want to be the one that gives that to him. “So, you want to invent press-on nails for shifters?”
15
WILLOW
What’syour favorite book on these shelves?” Eddie asks, entering my room and browsing my wall of bookshelves. My reading nook is my most prized possession, next to my custom-made rocking chair. I’d heard that you only need a thousand books to consider it a library, and it had turned into a challenge for me. My own little library filled with all my favorite books; isn’t that something? I’m only at two hundred right now, but I’ve got my entire shifter lifetime to collect and read.
“This is an interesting cover.”
“You won’t like that one,” I say, taking the almost naked couple book cover from his hands and putting it back in its spot. This, to another romance reader, would be a good recommendation. This book would probably freak Eddie out. Serial killer romances were my ultimate fave, but not something he should jump into. Staring at Eddie, I decide he would probably want something more than a cute country romance. Maybe an action romance or a suspense romance. Fake dating maybe?
“How about this one?” he suggests, pulling another book from my shelf.
“Do you remember what I said about the cartoon covers?”
“Yeah, but this one is dressed as a hero.” And the female main character was a villainess. This... this could be his entry way to the darker themed books.
“You should read that one. I loved it. It was... different,” I say with a small giggle. Gosh, I hope I’m right, and he likes this one. He is going to have fun reading this rivals-to-lovers novel.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“No reason,” I say, barely holding back my grin. I move onto my bed, holding his gaze as I sit. Gosh, Eddie is attractive. He had his mini braids redone and is sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of my room. He sits with the book in his lap but is on his phone.
I cuddle with my fur blankets, grabbing my book from my nightstand. The freezing temperature the house is set at allows me to snuggle with my blankets.
Here we are, sitting in my room, reading. The thought brings a blush that I hope he won’t notice. My goal is not to stare at him during this reading session, but that doesn’t mean I can’t glance. Glancing was okay. Glancing wasn’t harmful. In fact, how could I not glance at his beautiful, smooth brown skin? And he has his glasses on. I’ve never met a shifter with glasses, but they made the man in my rocking chair so fluffing attractive. Would he wear them during sex? Would they slip off or be in the way?
“Willow,” Eddie says, suddenly breaking me from my accidental staring session.
“Yes?”
“How’s your book going?”
“Oh, good?” I say. It’s hard to go wrong with aBeauty and the Beastretelling. The book probably is good, but I haven’t read a single page since Eddie entered my room. I set my book aside as I crawl to the end of the bed. I’ve got something else more interesting to take up my time.
“Oh, really? What’s it about?” He laughs, shaking his head. He definitely knows I wasglancingat him for long periods of time. His deep rumble of a laugh warms me. My skin lights up as if a warm fire is caressing every inch of my exposed skin. Smiling down at myself, I find I don’t want this to stop. Eddie is like finally coming home after a long day. Everything about him is perfectly right, even though it probably shouldn’t be. He fits perfectly in the puzzle that is my life. How could I have missed this?
He stands, setting his book and phone on the side table, and prowls his way over to me. Is it prowling? I don’t know, but it feels predator-like, and my smile almost hurts my face.
“If you keep staring at me I’ma have to do something about it,” he says, leaning over me. His hands flank my sides, running ever so lightly up my bare arms. Is he teasing me right now?
“What are you going to do?” I ask in a voice I’ve never heard before. Gosh, even my voice is heady. He must think me desperate. I shouldn’t have?—
