“That’s… a bit fast.”
“Not for the reason you’re thinking.” I meet her eyes. “For protection. When I went to turn off the oven, I heard a sound at the back door. Someone was trying to get in.”
The color drains from her face, and her fingers tighten on my arm.
“It was Louis. Dressed in a hoodie and had a backpack with rope and a knife. He was picking the lock.”
Silence, and she doesn’t move. “He was…” Her voice is a whisper. “He was breaking into my house?”
“I caught him and dealt with it. He’s not in your house. He’s not getting anywhere near you. And why I think one of us should be around you for a while.”
She’s trembling, a deep, bone-level fear. The fact that Louis keeps tormenting her upsets me so much.
“Where is he now?”
“I tied him to the tree in your backyard. Then I texted Corey and Brody to come get him so we can grill him about what the fuck he was doing.”
“Are you serious?”
I’m unsure which part she’s referring to, but I nod regardless.
She pulls away. And drags the sheet to her chest. Her eyes grow wide behind her glasses, and she’s staring at me with an expression that’s cycling between shock and fury and fear so fast I can’t track which one’s winning.
“And you didn’t tell me right away?”
I sit up to reach for her. “Claire?—”
“You came back to bed. You…” She gestures between us. “We… And the whole time, he was outside? Tied to a tree?”
“You have no idea how messed up my head’s been. It was you or do a thing to Louis I couldn’t take back, and I chose you. I’ll always choose you.” I collect her hands in mine, and she lets me, barely. “I wasn’t going to keep it from you. I don’t keep shit from people I care about, but after everything today, the drama online, the stress, the baking at two a.m., I couldn’t bring myself to pile more on you. Not tonight when you were finally calming down.”
“Jakob, what the fuck?”
“Shit, I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“It’s too much, and just when I feel things are going well, with what we have, Louis ruins it, and then you keep it from me. That’s not okay.”
I exhale loudly. “I’m not pretending it’s okay. It’s the furthest fucking thing from okay.” I draw her closer, my arms around her waist, pressing her against my chest. She resists for a second, then her body gives in and she leans into me, and the trembling gets worse.
“Since yesterday,” I explain, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. It’s making me insane. And I’m not going to keep acting. It’s not happening, because we’re scent mates, Claire. You and me. You and Corey. You and Brody. All of us. And that can make us go feral. Irrational. Protective beyond reason. And then we kissed, and you took me to your bedroom. I lost my mind with need.”
She exhales.
“I’m sorry, Claire, but I figured he could chill the fuck out a bit, giving me time to not murder him for breaking into your place.” It burns me, but I’ll make it up to her, whatever it fucking takes.
She’s quiet. “What did Louis say?”
“All he said was that he wanted to scare you a bit, clearly not liking that you’re moving on without him.” I flex my right hand, the knuckles already swelling and tender. “He won’t be showing his face again.”
She climbs out of bed and dresses in record time in those sexy leggings and a shirt.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her.
“You don’t know that. My ex is now turning into a fucking stalker, and oh my God, I’m shaking just thinking about what he could have done if you weren’t here tonight.” Her eyes are glassy, and the sight of her scared and withdrawing after what we just shared twists the fury in my chest into white-hot rage.
“But you’re not in this alone anymore. You’ve got us. And we’re not going anywhere.”
She nods. Swallows. Then her jaw sets, and I see a flash of the Claire from the wedding, the one who told Louis to move out of her way. “Where is he? I want to see him.”
