She was the one who wasn’t attracted to me; not the other way around.
It wasn’t like I could say that to Elliot, though. What kind of fucker wasn’t attractive enough for his mate?
Tilting my head to the window, I closed my eyes and tried not to groan or growl.
My life was a shitshow.
And my damned phone was still vibrating in my pocket—my parents, demanding updates, trying to get information, threatening to show up if I didn’t tell them what exactly had happened in the last two minutes of my life. It was mostly just talk.
Mostly.
The nurses had to call security to keep them out of Sabrina’s room a handful of times in the days we’d been in the hospital, though. So not all talk.
I loved them—it wasn’t that I didn’t love them. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that they thought I was their puppet, and always had thought that no matter what I said or did in an attempt to convince them otherwise.
I glanced at the clock.
We’d be at the townhouses in four minutes, at 10:32. I had those four minutes to feel sorry for myself, and then I had to get the hell over it, and figure out what I was going to do to try to win over my mate.
Elliot didn’t say anything else as the four minutes ticked by slowly. I let myself think about Sabrina—not sick, like she’d been right after my wolf bit her. But with that mischief in her eyes when she told me to eat her out in the hospital.
Fuck, I had loved it when she looked at me like that.
And I would’ve buried my face between her thighs in a heartbeat, had I not known that she would regret it afterward.
So I’d diffused the situation like a fucking man that I didn’t want to be, and I’d ignored the damned bulge in my pants like the self-controlled asshole life had forced me to become.
Maybe eventually, I’d be able to convince myself to let go and just enjoy life.
Not today—but maybe eventually.
Elliot parked at my place, and I jogged inside and up the stairs. Sabrina was probably going to be in pain soon, which meant I needed to be quick. Grabbing a duffel bag only took a second, and then I was throwing clothes into it. My laptop went in too—followed by some shampoo and deodorant. There was a solid chance that Sabrina might boot me to a spare room, in which case I’d need to be prepared with my own toiletries.
Not that I could really go without them anyway.
Glancing back at my nightstand, my gaze caught on my iPad Mini there, and lingered.
She loved to read even more than I did, so she wouldn’t hate me for reading at her place, I didn’t think.
I tossed the iPad into the bag too, before zipping it up and heading down the stairs.
Stopping at the fridge, I grabbed the envelope of cash off the top it before leaving. Sabrina didn’t seem to need the money, but I wanted it with me, just in case. At the very least, I could buy her flowers or cake or something—she always ate desserts when we’d done our set-ups, so I knew she liked them.
I didn’t know much about Sabrina—but I was going to learn. And I was going to convince her that regardless of our past, we could have a good future. What happened before didn’t matter—the present and future were far more important.