I take a moment to admire the way his jeans lovingly hug his thighs. “Good, I think.” I let out a sigh deep enough to make Lynx raise his eyebrows. “Obviously, I didn’t tell himeverything.And what I did tell him was heavily edited, but he’s still my best friend so I’m happy.”
“Good.” He grabs my hands and starts to walk backwards, tugging me with him.
I smirk. “Where are we going? Don’t we need to get back?”
“What for?”
“I assumed the others would want to know how it went and what we talked about.”
“They will.”
“Then shouldn’t we go inside?”
“Not yet.” He shrugs. “We’ve got time.”
“For?”
He tugs his T-shirt from his jeans, then pulls it over his head.
“Out here? Really?”
Lynx laughs. “Mind out of the gutter.” He shrugs the rest of his clothes off until he stands gloriously naked before me.
Oh.
As beautiful a sight as this is, anxiety floods me. My palms sweat and my mouth is suddenly dry, because I know what this means, what he wants, and it’s as terrifying as the first time.
“Morgan,” he coaxes, stepping into my space. “It’s okay.”
Is it, though? I’ve not shifted since that first and only time in the fight ring.
When I killed Fox.
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He smiles, soft, patient, encouraging. “You can.” He reaches for the hem of my T-shirt and I let him lift it up and over my head. He nods toward my feet. “Kick off your shoes.”
Despite the nervous fizzing in my belly, I do as he asks and toe off my trainers. I take my socks off as well, and he smiles in approval.
“Now these.” He goes for my joggers next, sliding them and my underwear off together so I’m as naked as he is.
“You need to shift.” His voice is soft but firm. “It’s not healthy to go long periods without it.” There’s no alpha power in his words, but they slide under my skin anyway, and my wolf wants to comply to make him happy. “And after the afternoon you’ve had, you need it more than ever.”
Iwantto shift.
I’m just fucking terrified.
“You didn’t kill Fox.” He puts a finger on my lips before I can protest. “You defended yourself.” He taps his chest. “And me.”
“Iknowthat, but?—”
But it doesn’t help. There’s a block where it should be instinctive.
“Do you trust me?” He takes my hands in his.
“With my life.”
He smiles, eyes wrinkling with happiness, and my heart beats that little bit harder.
