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Even if he didn’t go back to Hobby Straight and stayed with someone else, I wouldn’t be able to keep as close an eye on him, and not knowing that Sasha is safe throws my whole system off.

Bob jumps up onto the deck beside me, paws soft but heavy.

“Did you eat?”

He settles into a sit and licks his mouth.

“Good.” I glance at him again. “Sorry for locking you out earlier. But you didn’t want to see that.”

The sound he gives me almost comes across as agreement. Almost. Because he’s an animal, and animals can’t actually speak English.

“Sasha’s trouble,” I tell him though, because even though I know Bob doesn’t understand, the words keep coming anyway. “We both have to be careful.”

There have been too many times I’ve found Sasha and Bob cuddling, and no matter how many times I point out that he’s a wild animal, Sasha doesn’t care.

And no matter how many times I point out that no, I don’t find it cute, that softness finds me anyway.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but one that’s been sneaking up on me too often lately. So often that I’m struggling to ignore that it exists. I’ve always told myself that I’ll never be weak or soft again, but I never once considered that it might not be in my control.

Everything is in my control.

At least, I thought it was, but here, under the moon, with Bob’s silent stare watching me, I know that’s all a lie. I can’t control Sasha, and I can’t control the way my body reacts to him. I’m not even sure I want to. I’ve been holding back from acknowledging that I might actually enjoy his company, but my body is done humoring me.

For once in my life, I want to stop fighting.

Bob follows me inside, and I close the door behind us, giving myself one last chance to remind myself of all the reasons why this is a bad idea. Why I’m alone in the first place. Why this is only going to end in complete fucking disaster.

But none of it works.

So I climb back into bed.

Let myself look at his sleeping face. At the soft shadows and the gully of his eyelashes and the cute curve to his nose.

And I let myself feel the way my chest compresses at the oh fucking wow that passes through me.

It’s a disaster to be feeling this way, but I carefully wrap my arms back around Sasha without waking him and let my eyes fall closed again.

I’ve lived through being destroyed once.

I can do it again.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

SASHA

Iblink open my eyes to find a steaming mug in front of my face. “What’s this?”

“Coffee.”

I yawn and sit up, taking the cup from him. “I can see that. But why?”

“You looked tired.”

“Are you saying I look like shit?”

“You never look like shit.” The words are soft, and he’s gazing steadily at my face, which makes him feel genuine. But it’s Lynx. There has to be something else coming.