But today? Watching him work the room, seeing him flirt like it meant nothing? It made me wonder if I was being a silly fool again.
He was too easy with that smile. Too effortless with people. Charming. Gorgeous. Bright in a way I wasn’t sure I could ever be. And maybe that was the real problem.
My bear didn’t care about any of that. My bear liked James. Always perked up when he was near. Always sat up, hopeful, like maybe this time, we weren’t wrong.
Like maybe we deserved a little brightness too.
But I knew better. Guys like James got bored. They got curious. And then they got cruel when they didn’t get what they wanted fast enough.
“Get it together,” I muttered to myself, under my breath.
I was halfway to the truck, jaw tight, shoulders knotted up with tension, when I heard it.
“Rafael! Hey! Wait up!”
Dang it. I didn’t stop walking, but my boots slowed a step. His footsteps were light and fast, and a moment later, James jogged up beside me, breath puffing in the cold air.
“You forgot your phone,” he said, holding it out.
I frowned, patting my pockets like an idiot. Sure enough, it was missing. Crap.
“Thanks,” I muttered, reaching for it.
Just as I touched it, the screen lit up with a familiar name. Another missed call from Kellen. My chest tightened, breathcatching. James’s gaze flicked down before I could hit the power button.
“Kellen,” he said quietly. “You gonna answer that?”
His voice wasn’t teasing anymore. Just… curious. Maybe even a little cautious.
My response came out sharper than I meant. “It’s none of your business.”
His expression shifted. The easy smirk, the light in his eyes both dimmed. “Right. Sorry.”
I cursed under my breath. “Wait.” I ran a hand down my face. “I didn’t mean—look, I’m just having a shitty day.”
James stood there, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching me. His face wasn’t hurt exactly, but it was… guarded. Careful.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said after a beat. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”
I tried to look away. “I haven’t?—”
“Bullshit,” he said, arms crossing now. “Every time I walk into Bear and Bun, you glare at me like I kicked your favorite cat. Or you leave. Or pretend I don’t exist.”
I winced, teeth grinding. “It’s not you.”
“Sure feels like it’s me.”
The wind blew between us, sharp and cold, but it wasn’t what made me shiver. I sighed. “You remind me of someone else,” I explained.
His expression changed. Not surprised, exactly. But intrigued. “Someone bad?”
I nodded once. He shifted closer, enough that I could feel the hum of his wolf under his skin.
“Well,” he said softly, “I’m not whoever you’re thinking of. I’m me.”
I looked at him then, really looked. The way his hair curled a little over his ears. The way his mouth twitched like he wanted to say something light but held back.
His posture was open, but his eyes were wary. There was no cocky flirt in front of me now. No smooth-talking baker. Just a guy who, against all odds, seemed to care if I thought badly of him.
