He was quiet for a long time. Then: “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
My stomach tightened, but I kept stroking his back, waiting.
“There were rumors at the culinary school. About Orin. Some of the older students said he had ties to a shifter crime family in thecity. That he used to do dirty work for them before he became a chef. I never knew if it was true. I didn’t think it mattered until now.”
“Sean…”
“I wasn’t keeping it from you on purpose. I just didn’t want to believe it was true. And I didn’t want to make you worry.”
“You being in danger is already enough to make me worry,” I said, voice low.
He looked away, ashamed.
“Hey.” I tilted his chin gently, making him meet my eyes. “Thank you for telling me. Whatever Orin’s history is, whatever power he thinks he has, it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m breathing.”
Sean leaned in then, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. I cupped his cheek, deepening it just enough to tell him everything I couldn’t quite say with words.
He pulled away, eyes glassy. “You always make me feel safe.”
“You always make me feel like I’m home,” I whispered.
He gave me a wobbly smile, and I knew he needed more than words.
I pulled him even closer, arms wrapped tight around him. Eventually, Sean leaned against me, looking sleepy now, probably worn down by the fear and the baking and the confession.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Back to bed.”
He followed me without protest. Once we were in the bedroom, he curled into my side like he always did, tucking himself beneath my arm, head resting on my chest.
I didn’t say anything. Just held him until I felt his breathing even out.
Only then, when I was sure he was truly asleep, did I carefully slip out from under the covers and grab my phone.
I stepped into the hall and called Rafael.
He answered with a groan. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. This is important.”
His voice sobered immediately. “Is it Sean?”
“In a way,” I said. “Tell me about that shifter food critic you were talking to yesterday.”
“Yeah. He called himself Tom Crane. Gave me weird vibes. Like he was lying to me the entire time,” Rafael said.
“He was. That’s Orin,” I said.
A pause. “Sean’s instructor?”
“Yeah. He’s here, using a fake name.”
“What do you want to do?” Rafael said.
“For now? Nothing drastic,” I said. My bear growled inside me at the words. “We don’t want to stir up trouble, not yet. But I need you to dig into him. Find out where he’s staying, who he’s been talking to, how long he’s planning to stay.”
Rafael grunted. “Got it. I’ll start digging today.”
“Thanks,” I told him.
