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His jaw ticks as he takes in my words. He drives his fingers through his hair and scowls. “Jesus, Mia. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“You weren’t expecting me at the time you said we could meet? Weird.”
He huffs. “I’m not trying to fight with you. I just don’t want drama in my workplace. I’m sure Mr. Caproli is pissed.”
My head snaps back. Not that I care what that old geezer thinks, but I’m curious why the hell my being there is synonymous with drama. “Because I walked into his law office? I wasn’t aware I had restrictions on where I could go.”
“Alright, enough,” he barks.
Fury surges inside me, and my fingers curl into my palms. “No, not enough.” Sean may be able to do whatever he wants when we’re at Greystone Academy, but not here. We’re both members of Daybreak Pack, so we’re both equal. “Why would my showing up there impact him at all? We’re mates. They should want us to be together. Maybe you’ve forgotten that.”
The wolf in his eyes shines through. His breathing deepens, and I almost welcome the fight that’s threatening. I swear if we shifted right now, I might be able to take him, even though, genetically, I’m predisposed to be smaller than him. Hell hath no fury and all that.
“You just surprised me,” he says, the fire in his eyes dying. “That’s all.”
I have a million and one retorts, but I need to focus on why I’m here. This is supposed to be Operation Getting My Mate, not Fighting with Him on the Side of the Building. Swallowing my pride, I wait a beat before responding. “I wanted to see where you worked. I’ve been gone for so long, Sean. Everything has changed.”
He has the decency to look like my words affected him. He rubs the back of his neck and steps closer. There’s a small tug in my gut—a spark of memory from the first time we locked eyes that night in our wolf forms. Pure elation and adoration. It’s the only way I can describe it.
“I have so much I need to talk to you about,” I confess, anticipation building again. I hemmed and hawed about what to tell him concerning my new Lydia Greystone imposed timeline, but I figure if I can appeal to him in any way, I should use it. He hasn’t filled out the final rejection form yet, so there must be some hope.
Sean motions toward the sidewalk again. “Let’s go to my place.”
I fall in line behind him for a few steps before realizing we’re heading in the opposite direction of where his parents live. “Your place?” I question.
“Yeah, my apartment.”
A solid brick of ice forms in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t know you had your own place,” I say, letting sadness seep through my tone.
“I must have forgotten to tell you.”
I clamp down on my jaw, determined not to fight with him. If all we do is fight, I’ll never get anywhere. Like Nathan and Ms. Ebon have been shoving down my throat, I’m down to the wire.
The thought of Nathan makes me stumble. Sean’s arm sneaks out and grabs me by the wrist. Heat surges where we connect, and he yanks his hand away like he literally got burned. He starts to walk ahead of me, completely ignoring the passing connection that I know he must have just felt. Stubborn asshole. “It’s down Pine Street,” he tells me.
We turn the next corner and come upon a duplex. He brings a set of keys out of his pocket, opens the door, and we walk into a narrow living room. A set of stairs in front of us go all the way to the second floor. From my position just inside the door, I can see a white countertop through the next archway. It’s a pretty nice place, and it kills me that I’m staying in the equivalent of a dorm room when he has all the freedom he wants.
Sean kicks the door closed behind us and throws his keys on a table just inside the door. “Come on in,” he offers, the tips of his ears rimmed in red.
“It’s a nice place,” I say, holding my tongue as I look around.
“Yeah, I kind of wanted a grown-up place to stay.”
“Must be nice.”
Fuck. Damn. Lost that battle with myself. And in record time, too.
He glares back at me, and I give him an apologetic smile, like I’d only been joking.
“Let me just...” He heads into the kitchen. “You want a beer?” he calls out behind him.
“Jesus, I haven’t had a drink in a while,” I tell him. “Alcohol is forbidden on academy grounds. What else do you have?”
He pops his head around the archway. “Hot chocolate. It might be old, though.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
My stomach tightens. These are more words than we’ve said to one another in a long time. One of us is usually yelling at the other by now.