Page 9 of Fighting Fate (Monsters of London #4)

Dax

Vince slowly clams up throughout the rest of the day. Not that there’s much day left by the time we’re done. We nap after he fucks me, then shower together before I throw his clothes in the tumble dryer.

I do my best to be attentive. I’m fairly sure it’s nothing I’ve done. Vince just has something on his mind, and I don’t know how to distract him from it.

We’re back on the sofa that evening, and I reply to a text from Patch, asking if he can at least nip back and steal some clothes.

I’ll sneak in. He won’t even know I’m there.

I huff and tap out a reply.

I think he’s leaving tonight. I’ll let you know.

If Vince does decide to stay, Patch can always come in after we’ve gone to bed. Part of me does feel bad, but then he’s probably worked out the same thing I have—that Vince is my mate.

I toss my phone onto the table and pull Vince against my side. He smiles at me before he rests his head on my shoulder. He hasn’t said anything about the mark he left earlier. It felt… claiming, at the time. Not that he knew what he was doing. I think.

I flick through the different streaming services we have, but there’s nothing that catches my eye. Vince sucks in a breath and sits up when I pause on a horror film, and I swallow hard.

“You wanna watch this?” I ask. Looks like it’s about a ship or something.

Vince eyes me for a second. “Only if you do.”

“Y-yeah, sure.” Do I sound scared? I hope I don’t sound scared. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Vince narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue with me as I put it on. The deaths start immediately, and after half an hour, it’s less me holding Vince against me, and more me burrowing into his side.

Vince chuckles and strokes a hand through my hair. “We really can turn it off,” he says. “I’ve seen it before and besides, you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it.” Another ghost pops up and I jump. Vince swallows what I’m certain is a laugh. “I just… don’t watch a lot of horror films.”

“Scare easily?”

My cheeks heat. “Yeah.”

Just another thing for people to tease me about. Vince doesn’t, though. He smiles, sure, and I can’t hate that because I know it’s a little funny. There’s no real danger here. But he holds me as well, and for the rest of the film, he warns me when the ghosts are coming.

By the end, I’m almost enjoying it. I look up at Vince when the credits roll. We’ve leaned over, and I’m lying half on top of him, my head on his chest.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes still sparkling with amusement.

I don’t answer. I know why it was less scary with him. Because he looked out for me, sure, but because he always would.

I kiss him instead, and Vince responds immediately, one hand coming up to gently hold the side of my face. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut when we part, and I don’t move back.

When he opens them again, my stomach drops. I see determination there. I can pick it up in his scent, too.

“I… I should go,” he whispers.

I bite back the initial urge to argue. He doesn’t want that, and I don’t want this weekend to end badly. Not after everything. I push too hard, and I’ll never see him again.

“Yeah,” I say instead. “Okay.”

He frowns briefly as though he expected a different answer, but when I move back, he gets to his feet. He dressed earlier and now he fiddles with his shirt for a moment, almost like he’s playing for time.

“I just—” he says, then cuts himself off with a frown. “We both have to work tomorrow, right? So I should go.”

He nods when he finishes. Is he convincing himself? Seems like it. I get to my feet and follow him to the door, where he left his shoes.

“You have everything?” I say, part of me selfishly hoping he doesn’t. Now that he’s at the door, my wolf is alert and demanding we drag Vince back to our bed, keep him in there until tomorrow comes. “Phone, keys…”

Vince pats his pockets. “Got all of it.” He puts his shoes on and smiles up at me. “I really had fun, Dax. You’re…” He sighs. “You’ll make some guy really happy someday, you know?”

I don’t know. I won’t. Not unless they’re Vince. There’s no true bond between us yet, but I already don’t see how I could be with anyone else but him.

“Listen,” I say, and Vince’s shoulders tense. “Could I… Could I get your number?”

Vince sighs. “We talked about this.” It’s not condescending, the way he says it. It still sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We did,” I reply, a little more firmly. “But I did have fun. Outside of the sex, too.”

Vince jerks his head up and stares at me.

“We could be friends,” I offer.

“Yeah, I don’t know if we’d manage that,” Vince says, but there’s a faint smile on his face.

“Then let me just—One second, wait here.”

I stride back into the kitchen and scribble my number on a piece of paper left on the side. I tear it off and when I go back into the hall, Vince is standing there, waiting.

He takes the paper when I thrust it towards him. There. The ball is in his court, at least.

“Dax—”

“Just. You have it. In case you need it.” Or want it.

Vince puts the paper in his pocket, next to his phone. He moves in closer and leans up, then presses his lips to my cheek.

“I really did have a great time,” he murmurs, staying close as though he doesn’t want to look into my eyes. “Thanks, Dax.”

I squeeze his arm. “Thanks for dancing with me.”

Vince laughs and steps back. I unlock and open the door, waiting as he lingers in the doorway for just a second too long. He meets my eyes and nods, then turns on his heel and heads over to the lifts.

I close the door behind him and rest my forehead against it.

My mate just left, and despite the fleeting time we’ve spent together, I fear he’s taken a part of my heart with him.