“Not clever enough.” He brought his gaze back down to mine, and there was something in it beyond the case. Something he’d been carrying since the library when he saw Josh. I’d known we would have to talk about it, but I didn’t want to push him, so I waited.
He turned his glass in a slow circle on the table. “You know you don’t have to worry about Josh being here.”
“I know,” I said. I really wasn’t worried. I trusted Declan.
“Good,” he said. Then, his voice quieted to a whisper. “Because I’m not going back to him. I want to be clear about that. I know I said it outside, but I wanted to say it when it was just the two of us.” He paused. “He was easy, for a long time. Comfortable. And I stayed too long because comfortable felt like enough. But it wasn’t, and he wasn’t, and now I’m here.”
“And I’m glad you are,” I said.
He turned his glass again. “The thing I keep getting stuck on is my own judgment. Like, I picked Josh. I stayed with Josh for years. That’s a long time to miss all the signs that someone’s a cheating cheater who cheats. What does that say about my ability to assess a situation?”
“It says you’re loyal, and you gave someone the benefit of the doubt.” I set down my glass. “Those aren’t flaws.”
“They got me cheated on.”
“They also got you here where you belong.” I held his gaze. “I don’t think your judgment is broken, Declan.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth lifted. “Well. You would say that. You’re biased.”
“Extremely,” I agreed.
“But if it isn’t Josh you're worrying about, it's something else. There’s something bothering you. I can tell.”
There it was.
I’d been sitting with this for weeks, turning it over and over in my head. The mate question. The thing my wolf knew with absolute certainty, and my human half couldn’t confirm because I couldn’t shift.
“I think I know what you are to me,” I said. “I’ve been wondering for a while. I just can’t —” The word caught slightly. “I can’t be certain in the way I should be able to be certain. Because I’m broken.”
Declan was very still.
“Gideon, you aren’t broken.”
I scoffed. “I am.”
“Not to me.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and looked at me. “Can I tell you what I think?”
“Yes.”
“I think,” he said carefully, “that we’re going to have to do this the normal human way.” He tilted his head. “Date each other. Get to know each other. Fall in love at whatever pace it happens. All the boring, non-magically-confirmed steps.” The corner of his mouth curved. “No fate. No bond. Just us deciding every day that this is what we want.”
“That sounds terrifying,” I said.
“It does.” He smiled at me. “But I’m in if you are.”
“I am,” I confirmed. “I’m all the way in.”
I kind of liked the idea of choosing him every day instead of it being fate. Not that I didn’t want to mark him and make him mine, I did. But deciding I wanted him every day wouldn’t be hard at all.
He stood up from the table, collected both bowls, and stacked them with the ease of someone who’d started treating my kitchen like his own, and I liked that he felt at home here.
I stood up, too.
He turned, and I was already close, but not close enough.
“Hi,” he said, looking up at me.
“Hi.”
