I don't answer. Why was she in my room?
***
I don't know what's worse, the fact that she returned it soaked in her scent or the knowledge that she wore it enough that my scent faded completely.
My shirt, the one she stole from me after we escorted her back from the hunt, is folded neatly on the center of my bed. I can smell it from here. It's on my bed. It's been on my bed since this morning. My bedding will smell like her. I wish she had kept it. Or burned it. Or at least thrown it away. But no, she returned it, and brought with it her scent to take over my room, and people saw her do it.
How was she able to get in? That's what I need to focus on. That's the bigger problem. Are the codes so easy to break that anyone can do it? Did she bribe a member of the housekeeping staff? Did she simply overpower the latch? This isn't a jail cell or anything like that, but there are locks on the door for a reason.
I have to get that shirt out of here. I don't want to breathe her in until the scent fades.
“Hey,” Cross says, stepping in behind me. “Dylan said you –“ The words just stop coming as his nostrils flare. “What is that?”
“Genie brought back the shirt she borrowed.”
I watch his nose literally twitch as he takes in her scent. “She didn't wash it first.”
I turn my head to look at him. “No, Cross. She didn't.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
I tilt my head, curious. “What should I do with it?”
He stares at the innocently folded material for long seconds, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don't know,” he says finally. “Give it back?”
“Do you want her walking around here wearing my shirt?”
His mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words are produced.
Oh my Goddess. He does.
“Cross.”
“What?”
“Do you like that idea?”
He sighs. “Not me.”
Right. “Your wolf, then?”
Cross nods and it looks like it might hurt a little more than his pride.
“Keep it,” I suggest. “In your room.”
He shakes his head. “I can't. It would be disrespectful. And creepy.”
“She wore my scent off of it and returned it full of hers. That's creepy.”
“No,” he says, trying not to smile. “That was spiteful, but not creepy.”
“It doesn't bother you that she did that?”
“Honestly, Parker, I don't care about it as much as I should. If you could feel my wolf's reaction to a piece of clothing with her scent on it, you'd understand. I'm afraid to be bothered by it.”
“Keep it,” I tell him again more firmly. “But in your room. Maybe in a box or something so it isn't there in the open all the time.”
“I'm sorry.”
