Page 21 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

COCO

W hat a strange day.

Cleaning the luxury apartment of the alpha owner of my favorite bar, my hero who saved me from my two kidnappers, only to have him open the door and enter… and now he’s sitting at the kitchen island and making conversation like that’s the most natural thing in the world.

Meanwhile, I’m frozen to the spot, and at the same time melting inside because the way he’s looking at me…

He’s looking at me as if he wants to fuck me, then roll me in sprinkles and lick me, then eat me up.

He’s the big bad wolf with that silver beard and hair, those pale green eyes, those hulking shoulders. He looks about to burst out of his suit and transform into a beast, and I want it. I want him so much I’m breathless with it.

But he doesn’t. Fuck me, that is. Doesn’t get up, doesn’t come any closer.

“You’re tired,” I say, testing that distance. “I should let you rest.”

This is my insecurity-born come-on line. The chance for him to ask me to stay, or at the very least, to get up and take me in those muscular arms and kiss me.

I want his kiss. Stolen or given, offered. I’d offer it to him. I’d offer him my body, because I need… I need the intimacy, the touch, the contact. I need him, yet I don’t want to beg.

I don’t want to ask and be rejected, find out the attraction is one-sided.

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask me to stay. Turning away to hide my face and the disappointment surely written all over it, I put away the cleaning supplies and grab my purse.

“Be careful out there,” he says.

“Don’t worry,” I reply. “Zach is teaching me self-defense. I’ll be fine.”

That gets a reaction. His brows go up. “He does?”

“Every evening.”

Not the truth, but also not a lie. After all, I don’t know if Zach is coming over ever again.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says.

I fight the relief I feel. “You don’t have to.”

“Your safety is my priority,” he says and my heart falls again.

Why can’t it be enough? I ask myself. He’s obviously protective by nature. By instinct. It’s an alpha thing, and for some reason, he chose to protect me even though he wants nothing more from me.

Take it, say thank you, and stop hoping for more.

Yet as we exit the building, I have to wonder… Was it a bad idea to take the job? Does it mean I can’t get involved with my employer? My boss?

Because damn, I want to…

* * *

“Thank you,” I say brightly when we reach my building. It was a kind of uncomfortable walk. An uncomfortable silence. “Here we are!”

He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. In the radiance from the street lamps, he looks unbearably handsome. “I’ll wait here until you turn on your lights.”

“Or you could come up,” I chirp. “Have a nightcap with me.”

His mouth tightens. “I should get back home.”

I pout. “Just for a little while?”

“I really can’t.”

I nod. Stop pushing, I tell myself. Whatever you imagined was there simply… isn’t. He’s not interested, girl! Open your eyes.

I turn to enter but find my steps faltering. I twist back around. “Did I do something wrong? If you changed your mind about the job, it’s fi?—”

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

Okay. Cryptic but… okay. At least I still have a job, no matter how weird that is turning out to be.

“See you tomorrow evening then.” I give a little wave and this time, I turn resolutely my back to him and hoof it inside and up the stairs. I may be feeling a little morose, but what did I expect? He’s a mogul. Why would he take any special interest in a girl like me?

I’m just a charity case, I’ll bet. His charity project. He’s just invested because of what happened at his bar. And I can’t afford to refuse the help.

But that’s all it is. I should focus my own interest on people who like me back, and not in a brotherly way.

Like Zach? Who ran away the moment you kissed? Or Ryder?

Sighing, I enter my apartment, turn on the lights and lock the door. I don’t open my window to see if Atticus is still below, on the street. What’s the point? Seeing the light, he has to have left.

I’m safe, and that’s all that matters to him.

I strip out of my overalls and then my bra—finally, my God!—and throw both in the direction of the bathroom. Then I raid my kitchen for a late-night dinner and find some mac-and-cheese June made for me a couple of days back. I eat it cold from the fridge.

Then I grab some ice cream and drop onto my sofa, turning on the TV. I hug a fluffy pillow to my chest, curl my legs under me and stare at the program without really seeing it.

I want so much a night out with the girls, my girls, but I can’t. I don’t feel ready, even if I know that the odds of another kidnapping attempt are slim. Anxiety doesn’t follow logic. Just the thought of going out has me in a cold sweat.

I also don’t want to bother June who is still conspicuously absent from my life, even as I eat her food.

But Sawyer… Sawyer said I could call him at any time.

It’s late. He’s with his pack. He probably has plans. He’s probably having wild monkey sex with his mates.

I clutch my phone in my hand, swallowing choc mint ice cream, clutching my pillow like a demented squirrel. What can he do for me? Why burden yet more people with my anxiety and ranting?

Everything is fine. Everything is ? —

Everything isn’t fine. I’m calling Sawyer. And he can choose not to answer if he’s busy, right?

He replies on the second ring. “Coco. Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I whisper and then my voice cracks when I ask, “Can we talk for a bit?”

His warm voice curls around a little smile. “Sure we can. Are you comfortable?”

“I have ice cream.”

“Me, too. Tell me everything.”

Smiling, I sink further into my sofa and tell him about my love troubles.

* * *

“So this Ryder…” Sawyer audibly swallows his ice cream. “He’s hot, huh?”

“That’s the one you focus on? Why?”

“He’s mysterious! Of course I’m interested.” Swayer laughs maniacally. “I need to interrogate Ronin about him. He barely ever talks about his hot colleagues.”

“Don’t you dare, Sawyer Robert Jeremiah.”

“Those are not my middle names!” he protests.

“Well, I had to invent some, otherwise how would I scold you properly?”

“Damn.” He’s laughing quietly now. “Good point. Anyway, he gave you water and a strange, depressing speech and then… stole a kiss from you?”

“Yeah. In a nutshell.”

“Stole it as in…?”

“We kissed,” I clarify. “It was entirely voluntary.”

“Okay. Had to make sure.”

I smile even though he can’t see it. It’s nice of him to check. “And Zach kissed me like he meant it but then took off.”

“Yeah. That’s a very un-Zach-like thing to do. He likes physicality.”

“Oh?”

“Ah. Uh…” A pause. “It’s no secret that Zach has slept around, right? I haven’t put my foot in my mouth?”

“No,” I say quietly. “You haven’t.”

I’ve heard about Zach’s conquests and lifestyle. And he did tell me he doesn’t feel ready for a pack. Or was it to create his own pack? In any case, this shouldn’t surprise me. He’s a young, handsome, successful alpha. Why wouldn’t he have his pick of conquests?

“But then why did he run from me?” I whisper. “Did he think I’d be such a bad lay?”

“It’s not that,” Sawyer says with a confidence I envy.

“How would you know?”

“Because! He’s always gazing at you as if he wants to swallow you whole.”

“How romantic.” I giggle. “Like a whale. Zach the whale.”

“Want me to say he looks at you as if you hung the moon and stars? Because he does that, too.”

I gulp. “Sawyer?—”

“He gazes at you as if he can’t live without you.”

For some reason, a sob catches in my throat. “Don’t.”

Instantly he sounds alert. “What is it? Did something happen? Is someone trying to break in?”

“No. No, nothing like that,” I reassure him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Do you need me to come over? Even if it’s only to give you a hug.”

“Aww.” He’s so sweet! “No, I’m good. But thank you. I mean it.”

“Anytime.”

“I’ll let you be with your pack,” I whisper. “Good night.”

“Night, night! And send me pics of Ryder! I wanna see that sexy boy.”

“Sawyer! Ask your boyfriend for pics. He works with the guy. I’m not taking any photos.”

He laughs as he hangs up, the voices of his pack mingling with his.

I put my phone down and close my eyes, curling up on the sofa, loving that he has found his family, and hoping one day I’ll find mine.