Page 14 of Chasing the Wolf (Dark Wing #7)

Chapter 14

Xavier

I suppose it's not kind of me. Because there's no way she doesn't expect me to be sleeping in the other room. But Colton and I made a deal. He gets the big room since this isn't my bachelor party, or whatever they're called. I would never have had one. I certainly am not going to be celebrating my last “free days” from Mac. I'm full speed ahead. I've got one plan. Come back mated to Mac this week. Forcing my father's hand. Getting him out of my life for good.

The bathroom opens, and I'm a lucky bastard that she turned off the light before opening the door. And then she's here in my arms.

"Xavier! Why are you in my bed?"

I pull her to my chest, spinning her around so our heads are inches apart. "I never said I was sleeping in the other room. I only said that I didn't want you sleeping on the top bunk. Your brother and I are swapping out beds every other night." I smooth her hair away from her face, her features slowly appearing to me in the darkness.

"We can't sleep together."

"Sleeping isn't sex. And I wouldn't have sex with you."

There's a long pause. "You think we're mates?" Her fingertips trail over my abs, and it takes a lot of effort to not react.

"I do."

"But you won't have sex with me?"

"I'm not having sex with you for the first time while you're drunk, Mackie."

"I'm not . . . We can't both sleep here."

"No, it's a little tight."

"That's what she said." Her hand clamps over her mouth. "Right, okay, so I'm drunk. You should sleep in the big bed, and I'll sleep here."

"I think we should both sleep in the big bed. That way, if you need me, I'll be there."

"Why would I need you?" She squirms on my leg, and my hard cock bounces. I pray she doesn't notice. She does it again and belches. But there's no odor.

"I don't know. Why would you need me?" My eyes have adjusted enough to let me see her lips purse.

"Fine, there we can have our own sides."

"Right." I scoop her into my arms and get up with as much grace as you can while carrying a drunk woman tangled in a mermaid comforter. I move her to the side of the large bed closest to the bathroom. It's lighter here. The curtains are cracked, and the ship's running lights act as a nightlight. I detangle the small comforter and tuck her in. She's on her side, her hands lightly together under the pillow. And she's already snoring.

I find a glass and fill it with water and place it on the nightstand next to her head before I head to the other side of the bed. Never in my life have I thought so much about where the center of a king-size mattress is and how much space does one woman really need. It's good. I'm used to not sleeping, but there's absolutely no way I'm going to be able to sleep at all tonight. Not when I can stare at the back of her dark, silken hair.

I 'm slow to wake. Which is new. Like, really new. My head spins at night. I have notebooks worth of formulas, business plans, and strategies I've come up with between two and five a.m. Five a.m. is the latest I ever get up.

My arm's really heavy. When my eyes crack open, my breath hitches. Mac's asleep on my arm, so my hand’s on the other side of her head. Her slow, regular breathing indicates she's still asleep. I reach over toward the nightstand on the other side to find my phone. But I've definitely crossed the centerline of the bed. We could have stayed in the twin bunk and used the same amount of space. There's no way I'm reaching for my phone without waking up Mac. I'm letting her sleep as long as I can. I lean up and peer at the ridiculous bear clock on the nightstand. It's nine.

Nine.

Two things strike me. One, I’ve never slept this well.

Ever.

And the other, Mac needed to work this morning. I should wake her up, but I don't want to. I look down at the calm expression on her face and hate that it's about to change. "Mac? What time do you have to be at the coffee shop?"

Her eyes snap open. "What? What time is it? Oh, holy crud." She's out of bed in a flash, searching the floor for clothes.

My wolf growls at her instinct to search a bedroom floor for clothes. "Your things are in the other bathroom."

"Right, right!" She grabs at her hair. "Do you have a hair tie? Forget that. Why would you have a hair tie?"

I clench my eyes for a millisecond and get up. From my kit in the bathroom, I get the hairband that comes with the deluxe skin detox set. I grabbed a new kit on my way out of the office. My hair isn't long enough to need it. "How about this?"

"Perfect." She's back from the other bathroom, dressed in yesterday's clothes. She winds it around and around her ponytail until it makes it stand up like she's a genie from a cartoon. "I gotta go."

I'm nodding like the bobblehead of a Maine Bears player on the dashboard of my grandfather's truck. She's about out the door when I pick up my phone. "Wait."

She skitters to a stop. "Why? I'm already hours late."

"Your roommate's Colette, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, Colton dropped your phone off with her at Java Lava. That's the message from Colton. Then I have one from your phone number." I hand her my phone for her to read.

Mac: This is Colette. Tell Mackenzie she's stupid but I love her, and she should sleep it off. Here's my number. Text me back and let me know where to drop Mackie’s (LOL) phone off. Seriously, you all call her Mackie?

"Do you want me to text her back or..."

"I've got it." Mac's fingers fly over my cellphone. "Here, it's your phone—you can read the message if you want. I'm going to go. I'll see you around. Thanks for..."

I raise my eyebrows, waiting for what she will say. A good time? Not taking advantage of her? Not pushing her?

Her eyes flick to my abs. "For understanding." And she's out the door.

It takes me a second to become unfazed by her gaze. I give myself a shake and run after her.

She's halfway down the corridor when I close the door behind me. While I have my phone in my hand, I don't have on pants. I also don't have on my cruise wristband, which contains my electronic key to the door. While I'm a shifter and confident in my body—you have to be for shifting during pack runs—I'm not used to walking around public spaces in my underwear. "Mac, wait."

She turns around and stops. "Why are you in the hall with no pants on? You can't walk around the ship without clothes on."

"I realize that."

She stares at me and props her hand on her hip.

"Now, I realize that now."

"Where's your wristband?"

"In the room."

"The cabin?"

"Semantics, but yes, cabin."

She rolls her eyes and storms past me, going back toward 1414.

"Where are you going?”

"I'm getting you back in your room." She heads down the length of the corridor until she finds a room with the door slightly open. "Sara? Are you in there?"

A head pops out of the bathroom. "Hey, Mackenzie. I missed you this morning when I got my coffee."

"Yeah, well, I was busy brewing up my own special kind of trouble. Can you let my friend back into his room—I mean cabin?"

"Yes, of course. What number?"

Mac sighs. "1414."

"Ooh la la. Friend?" Sara's eyes flick from my shirtless state to my lack of pants. She scurries down the hall, and with a quick flash of her badge, 1414 opens up. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Nothing. But tomorrow your double caramel with two shots of espresso is on me."

"Ah, you don't have to do that."

Mac gives Sara the look.

"But I'll take it and give you a great big hug when I do."

"Thank you, Sara," I say, heading into the cabin.

"Why were you coming after me?"

"I... if your shift is almost over, have breakfast with me?"

"No."

"All right. Can you not use whatever potion you have again?"

"No." Her eyes flash when she says it. I can feel her wolf right under the surface of her skin.

I blink. I hate that my brother Fletcher has taught me that no is a complete sentence. Fletcher and I are both determined to not let history repeat itself. That we won't become like our father.

"I never said I had a potion."

"Right. Well, if you could let me know what deodorant you're using, I could make it into another line of products. I can even give all the profits to your favorite charity. What's your favorite charity, Mac?"

"Me." Her lips thin. "I'm kidding. There's a school on one of the local islands that I volunteer at sometimes when I can."

"All right. You let me know why you don't have any odor, and I'll fund them for a year. I'm not even asking for a formula. Just the truth, Mac."

"A whole year?"

"Yes. No. Two, as long as it's your favorite?"

"It is." She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at a spot on the carpet between the two of us. Another sigh. "I may have had some help."

"The whole truth."

"You can't handle the truth..." she says, deepening her voice.

I smirk at her movie quote. "Yes, I can."

"I don't think you can." She's not going to fess up. "If you really think I'm your mate, do you think it's wise to try to buy me with money?" She leans against the wall beside the door.

Indeed, Mac isn't like other people.

"If you have so much money you can just give it away for an answer you think you already know, then maybe you should just give the school the money anyway. I'll see you later." She opens the door but stops it from closing behind her. "Maybe." The door clicks shut, and she clearly says to herself in the hall, "If I'm not fired."

My wolf is clawing at my skin. I'm frazzled. And bested. But there is something new—I'm well-rested. It's like I have fire racing through my veins. If I wasn't already sure that she was my mate, I'm a hundred percent sure now. I need to prove it to her. But how? Not with money, or at least not in the traditional way. I'm not going to be able to buy her jewelry, clothes, and expensive trips. How do I undo years of damage in five days? Four really. The last day is disembarkation.

Time, I need more time. Time with her. Time to convince her I'm not the person she thinks I am.

Or am I?

I tried to bribe her by giving money to poor children. Fuck. I throw my clothes on, and my wristband this time, and I'm out the door.

But where? Hope. She's mentioned Hope several times. Mate to the dragon shifter. And when someone called up from the front desk, there was a Hope. But there's also Rama, and Colette too. I can figure out where she works. Gordon wasn't much help, but that was the first day before we'd taken his mixology class. Before everyone was applauding me on the pool deck for juggling. I punch the button for the elevator but give up after waiting for a few minutes. I round the stairs down to the lobby.

Under the disguise of gawking at the chandelier, I figure out which woman at the front desk is Hope. Dark hair and brown eyes—the nametag is definitely helpful. I wait until there's no line and make my way across the lobby. Of course, three guests appear out of nowhere.

"After you," I say to the female with the cub on her hip.

"Thank you."

Another ten minutes and listening to the story of how her toddler accidentally flooded their bathroom later, I'm at the front of the line with Hope and not one of the other agents.

"Hello," I say.

"Good morning," she says, and then her eyes widen. "Oh, yes."

"I'm––"

"I know who you are. I'm Hope Lancing-Stone."

"Right . . ."

"How can I help you?" There's a stern, professional tone. One that wasn't there the last time I talked to her on the phone. On the phone, she was friendly, maybe even a little embarrassed about what she was asking me to do. But now? Her tone has turned mother wolf, not quite snarling but a hair away from it to keep her cub safe. "Is everything adequate with your cabin? Do you need another wristband, perhaps?"

"Mac has her phone back. That's good."

"I'm not at liberty to talk about crew or guests' private matters."

"I see. Even if I firmly believe that Mac—Mackenzie—is my mate."

Hope thins her lips and looks over my shoulder.

"Even if I'm fully aware that I was horrible to her growing up. And that I have to make it up to her."

"Is there anything else you need?" Hope turns her eyes to mine, staring at me. This woman is mated to one of the most influential males in Hollywood. He's a dragon shifter. Me from two weeks ago would be trying to convince her to invite me to dinner. But now all I want is for her to tell me how to make it up to Mac. What crack can I fill first? How can I make her see I've changed? I'm not sure it's even possible that she's going to come around, but I have to try.

"I'm guessing a character reference isn't in the cards?"

"Listen. I... No." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Hope? Is everything okay?" another agent asks.

"Perfect, Eva. Mr. Wilder was just leaving."

Eva arches her eyebrow at Hope. "Have a good day." I'm halfway across the room when Eva gasps behind me. "No, he didn't?"

I turn around and see Hope showing her phone to Eva. The two women glare at me.

"Fuck."