For a moment, Nix stared after her, stunned. She was right—if Noah found out before Nix said anything, he’d be devastated. Nix didn’t want him to get hurt. Nobody did.
We all love Noah.
Love. Did he love Noah? Somehow, in all the months of resisting his sweet mate’s lure, had he actually fallen without wanting to?
He was awfully afraid he knew the answer to that question.
God, I’m so fucked.
2
Noah came slowly awake, moving a bit in the bed. That was a mistake of epic proportions. Every muscle in his body felt like he’d been used as batting practice for a major league baseball game, and he was the ball.
“Oh my fucking gawd,” he groaned.
“I guess how are you feeling is a stupid question.”
That voice. Smooth, like whiskey and honey, it sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Other places, too. He longed to wrap himself in the owner of that voice, sink into him until he could no longer tell they were two separate people. And thinking like that sure wasn’t doing his current predicament any good—now his dick was aching along with the rest of him.
Dammit.
Cracking his eyes open, he turned his head and peered at his wayward mate. To his surprise, Nix was gazing down at him with his brows furrowed, luminous green eyes stark with worry. The sight warmed Noah’s heart, giving him a bit more hope. Maybe the man wasn’t a lost cause after all.
For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of drinking in the sight of his man. Well, technically his, anyway, because of the wolf Bondmate thing. Nix’s long, dark blond hair was loose around gorgeous face and bare shoulders, and holy shit—
“Why are you half naked?” Noah blurted.
Nix snorted, a corner of his mouth kicking up in amusement. “I was washing one of the SUVs in the hangar when we got the emergency page.”
“Now that’s a sight I wish I hadn’t missed,” he teased, arching a brow. “You, shirtless and barefoot, wearing nothing but those shorts, all wet and soapy.” He emphasized the last words by humming in appreciation, letting his gaze roam his mate’s fine form. What a form it was, too.
Nix’s face colored a bit as he shook his head. Noah just smiled, taking in that broad chest, which was sprinkled with just enough hair to be sexy and give Noah’s fingers something to play with. Nix might be tall and lean, but without his shirt on it was obvious that the man was deceptively strong. His entire body from his chest to his arms, stomach, and thighs, was roped with muscle, and his stomach sported a six-pack that could bounce a quarter to the ceiling.
Yeah, Nix was beautiful, but it had been many an enemy’s last mistake to assume he wasn’t every bit as lethal as his bigger, bulkier Pack brothers.
Noah shifted uncomfortably in the bed as his arousal threatened to reach DEFCON levels.
“Are you all right?” Nix asked, leaning close.
“I’m fine. Just bruised and hurting some.”
“You were lucky.” Nix scowled. “That fucking tiger nearly killed you! If Zan hadn’t gotten back here in time to heal you—”
“I would’ve been fine,” Noah said gently, placing his hand over his mate’s. “Scratched up and scarred to hell all over my body, thanks to those claws, but okay.”
“Eventually.” The word came out as an unhappy growl.
What could he say? It had been a close call. But right now he was more focused on the fact that Nix was seriously upset on his behalf. Damned if that didn’t cause a tendril of warmth to curl around his heart.
“Better watch out. I might start to think you care or something.”
“Of course I do! Why would you say something like that?”
“Gee, I can’t imagine.”
Blowing out a breath, Nix looked away for a few seconds, frustration stamped on his face. “You don’t understand, Noah.”
“So make me,” he practically begged. “What’s holding you back? Is it the glittery T-shirts and pink shoelaces? Do I need to dress like a lumberjack and stop using product in my hair? What?”