Page 20 of Stripe Theory (The Matchmaker’s Book Club #8)

NINETEEN

R ehan stayed rooted in place until the car disappeared from view, his enhanced senses tracking her heartbeat until it faded into the city’s rhythm. Only then did he allow his rigid posture to slip, running a hand over his face as if he could wipe away the intensity of his reaction to her.

Hunter materialized beside him, because of course, his friend wouldn’t let him brood in peace. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“If by ‘better’ you mean you and Maya orchestrating every moment.” Rehan’s growl held no real heat. His tiger was too content from the evening’s proximity to Alora.

“Someone had to do something. You two are painful to watch.” Hunter leaned against a marble pillar. “Though I notice you’re not actually denying anything anymore.”

The observation hit too close to home. Rehan turned to head inside, but his mother stood in the doorway, her expression knowing.

“She’s different,” Jewel said quietly. “Not what I expected.”

“She’s human.” The words lacked conviction even to his own ears.

“She’s brilliant.” His mother’s tone held a hint of amusement. “And she handles your moods better than most shifters.”

“I don’t have moods.”

Both Jewel and Hunter snorted at that, the synchronized sound making Rehan’s tiger bristle.

“Son.” His father’s voice drew their attention. Franklin stood in his study doorway, backlit by warm lamplight. “Her research is promising. Her methods are... unconventional. But perhaps that’s what we need.”

Coming from Franklin Kedi, this was practically a ringing endorsement. Rehan inclined his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Also,” Franklin added with uncharacteristic hesitation, “your tiger’s reaction to her is... noteworthy.”

Rehan stiffened. Of course, his father had noticed. The entire pride probably had, given how his control slipped whenever she was near.

“It’s not—” he started, but Sierra cut him off, appearing as if summoned by the conversation.

“If you say ‘it’s not what you think,’ I’m going to hit you,” his sister threatened. “Even through this virus fog, I can sense how your tiger responds to her. Stop fighting it.”

“You’re all reading too much into this,” Rehan insisted, though his tiger growled at the denial.

“Really?” Hunter’s eyebrows rose. “So you didn’t almost shift when my wine ‘accidentally’ splashed near her dress?”

“Or growl every time Father questioned her?” Sierra added.

“Or track her movements all evening?” his mother contributed with a small smile.

“Or stare at her like she’s—” Hunter began.

“Enough.” Rehan’s voice emerged deeper, his tiger too close to the surface. “We have work to do. Research to complete. The virus isn’t going to cure itself while you all play matchmaker.”

He stalked inside, ignoring their knowing looks. But alone in his study later, staring at research papers without seeing them, he couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

His tiger had chosen. Had probably chosen that first day in her chaotic lab, surrounded by smoke and brilliant theories and fearless laughter. Every interaction since then only confirmed what his instincts already knew.

Rehan pressed his forehead against the cool glass of his study window, watching city lights blur in the distance. Professional distance was becoming impossible. Denial was becoming painful.

And tomorrow he’d see her again in her element among the controlled chaos of her lab, marvelous and beautiful and completely oblivious to how thoroughly she’d upended his carefully ordered world.

His tiger rumbled with satisfaction at the thought, and for once, Rehan didn’t try to silence it.