Page 7 of Curvy Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #4)

Standing in the doorway of the small bedroom, I glare at the bed, then back at Xavier. “This is not happening,” I say firmly.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he mutters. “I can’t exactly build a new room in the next few hours, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

His quick wit and dry delivery have always been something I really liked about him. At the moment, though, all it does is infuriate me.

“Will you be serious!” I snap. “The contract never specified that we share a bed.”

“Did you actually read the contract?”

“Well… no.”

“Then it might specify we have to dance a naked jig on the roof, for all we know.”

“How is she going to know if we go through with the contract or not?” I snap back, ignoring his idiocy. “What is Iris going to do, peek in through the window?”

“I strongly doubt it,” Xavier answers thoughtfully. “Not after the way she disappears the second someone wants to dispute the contract. Of course, I could be wildly wrong, and she’s watching us right now to make sure we fulfill every clause.”

I stare at him coldly, desperately trying to hide the fact that he is getting to me, and I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream at him.

Both. Always both.

I can see the edges of his lips curl just slightly, as if he knows he’s got me, and it’s only a matter of time until I give in.

I have missed this so much. We were friends for a lot longer than we were lovers.

I could almost slip back into our old pattern, if it wasn’t for the bed sitting right in front of me, a physical manifestation of all my worst fears—the ones that poured into my head the second I saw him in the rose garden.

“Not even a chuckle, huh?” Xavier says. “I must be losing my edge.”

“It doesn’t really matter how sharp you are,” I mutter. “The subject itself is not funny.”

“Maybe,” he answers. “But I’ve managed to bring a little humor to most things, even if they’re dark, and I don’t think this is all that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I ask, my voice incredibly soft. I can feel my body going hard, like stone, as a cold rush of nerves floods into my chest, paralyzing me.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before.”

Don’t you dare talk about that!

I can’t draw a breath. It feels like my ribs are a cage of steel, slowly squeezing my lungs until I almost choke. Tears well in my eyes, but I don’t know if it’s from emotion or a physical reaction to stress.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone pale.”

“I…” Words fail me—there are too many of them—and the horrible pain ripping through me makes it impossible to choose enough to make up a sentence.

“Mabel,” Xavier says, sighing. He sweeps his hair back from his face with one hand, frowning as he looks at the ground. I recognize the gesture. He only does it when he’s really upset.

How dare you? You have no right to be uncomfortable about this!

When he looks up at me, his eyes are flickering bright blue like tropical pools lit by ripples of sunlight. He also looks far too serious, and suddenly, I know I can’t stand to hear the next words that come out of his mouth.

“Stop!” I yell, stepping away with my hands out. The hallway isn’t big, and I smack my back against the wall. “Don’t say it. Whatever you want to say, keep it to your damn self!”

The irony isn’t lost on me. For weeks after he left, I stared at my phone as if my attention could conjure a message from him. Some closure, even if it wasn’t an explanation, an apology, or a declaration of love.

Now I hope he never speaks of it again!

“I’m not staying here,” I say, my voice hard and firm. “I’ll find somewhere else.”

“Mabel,” he says, “there are no hotels or anything like that here.”

“So? I’ll ask some of the folks I met earlier. They seemed nice.”

And super weird, but I’ll take that over my worst nightmare right now.

“You can’t go knocking on their doors,” he says, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice. “They are expecting you to be their new luna. If you don’t stay here with me, they’ll know something is very wrong.”

“I’ll make up a story.”

“Didn’t you see the way they reacted to you? The pack is hanging all their hopes on this union. For the first time, they feel like they have a future. What are you going to do, tell them flat out you don’t give a fuck about them? About me?”

I narrow my eyes at him, feeling my heart speed up.

He’s artfully brought up the issue of us splitting up in seven days, and what that might mean to the rest of the pack.

I was truly touched by the way the others welcomed me and brought me gifts.

Already, I feel like I don’t want to disappoint them.

I don’t have to be luna to help them. I can still come back sometimes.

It’s a lame excuse, and I know it, but the future conflict is way too big for me to handle right now, so I return to my current problem.

I’m tired… I’ve had such a long day. All I want to do is lie down, but I can’t go to bed with Xavier.

“I’ll sleep in the living room,” I say, sidestepping in that direction. “The couch is fine, and it’s right next to the fire. Honestly, I don’t care if I have to sleep on the fucking floor. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“It’s important for us to look like a genuine couple,” Xavier protests. “You’ve really got to try a bit harder.”

“What was that about people snooping, looking through windows?” I ask. “If Iris isn’t going to be doing it, I’m sure the townsfolk won’t be, either.”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “They are pretty weird. All of them have the ability to sneak up on me, and their behavior is strange as fuck sometimes.”

I want to brush this off as one of his ridiculous quips, but I can tell it isn’t.

One more uncomfortable subject I’d rather not attack today.

“Look, I’m going to the couch,” I say with determination. “If someone peeks through the window, I’ll make an excuse. Goodnight, Xavier.”

“Please, be reasonable!” he snaps. “The bed is huge, plenty of room for both of us. We won’t even touch, I promise you. The couch is really narrow and lumpy; you won’t find it very comfortable. I’m betting you need a really decent sleep.”

“I do,” I answer, eyeing the bed. It is massive, with a very thick mattress and a stack of blankets that look handmade.

Of course they are. Everything here is.

“I won’t invade your space,” Xavier promises. “I completely understand.”

I can tell by the look on his face, he really doesn’t. But he’s trying to, and that counts for something.

“Okay,” I answer, gritting my teeth a little. “If you promise to respect my boundaries, then I can share the bed with you. But one screw-up, and I’m out of here, got it?”

“Understood,” he says, looking relieved. “I’m glad we worked this out.”

“Yeah, me too,” I answer, backing away. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

I turn away from him and slam the bathroom door shut behind me, staying pressed against it as if I have to barricade it to feel safe.

I’m trembling, gasping for air, and I don’t even know if I’m scared or excited.

After a few minutes, when I feel the heat in my body, I realize which one it is, and I know why I’m so terrified to spend the night beside him.

Wiping tears of frustration from my cheeks, I go to the mirror and splash some cold water on my face, feeling like I should probably dunk my entire body in ice.

I feel a bit lost without my things, but I don’t want to go and get them out of the car myself, and I don’t want to ask Xavier to do it, so I just tidy my hair with my fingers and rinse my mouth out, staring into my own gray eyes as if I barely recognize the girl in the mirror.

It’s okay. You can do this. Just one week, and you can go home like this never even happened.

Of all the lies I’ve ever told myself, I think that might be the worst and the most ridiculous. Even if the contract can be resolved, both of us are forever changed now, and there’s no going back to who we were.

So maybe we can be something new. I’ll never trust him again, but we could learn to get along like we used to, without any physical intimacy.

As I leave the bathroom, I know that one is a lie, too, but it’s one I desperately need right now. When I get to the bedroom, the lights are dim, and Xavier is curled up on one side of the bed.

It is a big bed. Almost takes up the entire room.

My dress is comfortable enough to wear for a night, so I just get straight in bed and curl up with my back to him. He doesn’t move as I lie down beside him. Even his breathing is very quiet, like he’s trying not to disturb me.

I can almost feel the heat from his body radiating across the space between us, setting me alight with feelings I desperately try to suppress. Xavier made me feel things no one else ever has, and I felt so safe to express myself; I did things I never thought I’d do.

I wriggle uncomfortably as the memories trickle through my mind. Once they start, I can’t stop them, and soon my cheeks are flushed as my breathing speeds up and heat floods my thighs and breasts.

His hands on me… and his hot mouth and slick tongue. The way I bent to his touch and served his every desire…

The last thought finally kills the arousal. The memories of being so wide-open to him, letting him into me, body and soul, then being tossed aside like a used rag, overpowers the raw sexual desire, replacing it with shame.

Now my cheeks burn hot for a different reason, and this feeling is so uncomfortable, I almost wish the lust would come back. Wrapping the blankets tightly around myself in a little cocoon, I will myself to stop trembling and relax.

Eventually, I hear Xavier’s breathing settling into a low snore. Knowing that he’s asleep relaxes me, and I let myself stretch out in the comfy bed.

It’s not the getaway I was hoping for, but it is nice here. Kind of magical, actually.

As I begin to drift off, I wonder what kind of magic it could be. Because something in this place feels wrong, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with my internal conflicts.