ELEVEN
SABRINA
We didn’t talkabout dance classes for long before Dax and Elliot got back. Dax had a black duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, and Elliot grinned the moment he saw Lizzy and Evan. Evan growled and charged at his dad, shifting and laughing like a maniac as his dad scooped him up off the ground and flung him up into the air.
I was already in enough pain to be relieved to see Dax again. The damn pain was going to turn me into one of Pavlov’s dogs—or one of Pavlov’s almost-werewolves, I guess.
Dax dropped his bag next to the couch and then grabbed me, scooping me up like a damned princess. My cheeks heated as he settled down on the couch with me in his arms. The side of my head rested against his chest, and he was practically hugging me while he held me.
The pain, of course, eased to nothing now that we were touching again. My breathing grew easier and steadier in the comfort of his arms, even if I was too embarrassed to make eye contact with him.
Lizzy shot me a pointed look, to which I rolled my eyes—even though whatever she was thinking was probably right.
They only stayed for a few more minutes, asking a bunch of questions about what they could bring or do to help out with stuff. I turned down their offers repeatedly—the only thing they wouldn’t let me turn down was food, so I let that one go.
Lizzy promised to lock the door behind herself (she had the spare key) so Dax held me on the couch while they all left.
As soon as they were gone, he asked me, “How are you feeling?”
I made a face. “Fine now.”
Now that he was there.
I didn’t say that part out loud though; I wished it wasn’t the case.
“We should probably have a conversation about what we were talking about in the bathtub earlier,” he said.
Shit, he was really going to bring that up?
I slipped off his lap, and he reluctantly let go of me. “I’m feeling pretty tired,” I remarked, as I headed toward my bedroom.
It wasn’t a lie, though it was definitely an excuse.
“Then we’ll talk in bed.” He followed me.
Damn him.
Not ready to change my mind and make him suspicious in the process, I didn’t argue.
“Which side do you want?” he asked me, his voice and body casual as if this was a conversation he had with women on the daily. I knew it wasn’t—but something about the easy way he said it was somehow both sexy and frustrating at the same time.
I climbed onto the bed. It was king-sized, and one of the most expensive things in my house because I was high maintenance like that. “I don’t know. I usually just sort of starfish,” I said over my shoulder. “What about you?”
“Don’t care. As soon as I’m out, I sleep like a rock,” he admitted.
Yeah, I’d actually seen that a bit in the hospital. I was positioned over the top of him, and he hadn’t even woken up.
“You can hug the side then.” I plopped down on my favorite pillow, on my back.
Damn, it felt good to be back in my own bed. The hospital’s was not comfortable, not that dying-Sab had really cared.
I closed my eyes, fully prepared to fake falling asleep in the next thirty seconds to avoid the awkward conversation that was coming as Dax slid into bed with me. The side of his leg brushed mine, giving me goosebumps as he propped his head up on my second-favorite pillow.
“Look, Sabrina, I know you don’t want to talk about it, and honestly, I wish we didn’t have to. If you don’t want to say anything, that’s fine, you can just listen. But I think we need to get a few things straight,” he said, his voice calm and firm.
I didn’t open my eyes, or otherwise respond, though I was ninety-nine percent sure that he wasn’t sold on me being asleep already.
“As frustrating as it is for both of us, I have no control over my wolf. I didn’t know he was going to choose you, and if I had, I would’ve acted very differently from the moment we met. Like you, I had never heard of this happening—a wolf choosing his mate after months of knowing her. I know you probably don’t think it’s true, but I felt drawn to you even before—and I’m really fucking glad to know why, now.”