Page 13 of The Wrong Bond (Wolf Billionaire #4)

CHAPTER 13

ARLENE

“ W hat do you mean you’ve only had sex with him once? Is that how mistressing works?” Leah asked so loudly, I was scared everyone in the entire bar could hear her.

“First off, shhhh! And secondly, I don’t know how this is supposed to work. This is my first rodeo, remember,” I whispered at her.

Leah crossed her arms and looked me up and down. “And you’re still getting paid for doing nothing?”

I sighed. “It’s insane! Every day when I wake up, I have more money than I did the night before. I don’t understand.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I wasn’t well-versed in this type of arrangement, but I was pretty certain I was meant to be doing more in order to get paid. But currently, Shawn was basically paying me for just breathing.

My head swam with the blaring music and Leah’s incessant chatter, but this bar was the only place that felt remotely comforting tonight. It was my chance to forget about my fight with Shawn, but every fiber of my being ached for his touch.

“Maybe he likes you,” Francine, Leah’s sister, piped up from the end of the bar.

It was supposed to be a girls’ night out for just Leah and me. It had been her idea to go out to a nice bar, wear pretty dresses, and have overpriced cocktails all night. But Francine was visiting from college and had decided to join us.

She was the opposite of Leah in every way: more level-headed, less dramatic, and just all-around more relaxed.

“Don’t fuel her delusions, Fran,” Leah scolded.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not deluded. I know he doesn’t like me. He made that very clear the other night at the bar when he told me that I was his mistress and nothing more.”

“I’m sure he didn’t say it like that,” Leah said as she took a sip of her cocktail.

“He practically did.”

“Was that before or after he fought off the huge wolf who groped you?” Francine asked.

“Before.”

“So he fought off a six foot five rogue for someone he doesn’t care about?”

Francine did have a point, but I was no longer making excuses for Shawn.

“That’s the polite thing to do in that kind of situation. Anyone else would have done the same.”

Leah shrugged. “I wouldn’t have.”

I ignored her. “Anyway, our relationship is an arranged one. I just offer the services Shawn needs.”

“But how will that happen when you’re ignoring him?”

“He just wants to talk. Talking is going to lead to even more feelings, making it incredibly hard to detach from him when the time is right,” I explained.

“And the sex isn’t leading to feelings?”

“That’s different.”

Most of what I’d just said was the truth. But Shawn and I had sexual chemistry, and somehow, that sexual chemistry fueled my emotional attraction.

There was no way I could keep having sex with Shawn and expect it to stay easy and casual. Even now, the memory of kissing him for the first time sent a tingle down my spine.

He infuriated me and lit my entire body on fire at the same time.

“I don’t know why you agreed this arrangement in the first place. If it’s too much, you can just stop seeing him,” Francine suggested, shaking her head.

Leah and I exchanged knowing looks. Fran had no idea that I had basically been living off of her parents’ handouts and my waitressing tips for months now. And then Shawn had waltzed into my life and made it possible to pay my bills on time.

It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but I was so much closer to getting Coral that private room and upping her medications. I couldn’t stop now just because I had a silly little crush.

“I can’t afford to stop seeing him, literally and figuratively, Fran. I need his money,” I said to her.

“Then you have to talk to the man eventually,” Leah added. “You can’t keep stalling forever.”

“But the look his parents gave me.” I shuddered just thinking about the disgust in his mother’s eyes.

“The uptown wolves are the most classist pieces of shit I’ve ever encountered. The debutante ball that was hosted uptown is the only taste I’ve gotten of the elite, and it was the worst experience of my life,” Leah groaned.

“Leah almost signed up for experimental projects at a health center because our parents said they couldn’t afford the actual ball,” Francine giggled, and I did too.

“I keep thinking my parents are rich,” she scoffed. “But the uptown wolves are ten times richer, and they would take any chance to rub that in our faces. Don’t worry your pretty head about them.”

But it was hard not to. They’d already decided that I would never be good enough for Shawn. Not that I wanted to be good enough for him, but it just made our situation harder to live with.

“You have to talk to him soon, Ally. Don’t be a chicken.”

“I’m not a chicken.” I turned to Francine. “Do you think I am?”

“A little bit,” Francine said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Can you just be dishonest for once, Fran?” I groaned.

“I don’t think I can.”

“That’s because I’m right. You can’t keep holding his parents’ misstep over his head.” Leah said.

I sank deeper into my chair, hating that no one was backing me up.

“Well, what do I say? I think I’ve made it super awkward, and by now he probably wants nothing to do with me.”

“Just pick up where you left off. Whatever happened between you two had nothing to do with the arrangement,” Leah countered.

I sighed, wishing I could fast-forward time so I didn’t have to live through what I could already see coming.

“I hate it when you make sense.”

Leah smiled. “I know you do.”

“So what do I do?” I asked her.

“First off, we do shots.”

And that was what we did for the next thirty minutes or so. We all downed so much alcohol I couldn’t feel my limbs and my eyesight became a blurry mess. We danced on tables and twirled around the bar all night, all my worries fading as the alcohol took over.

Nights like these made me grateful for hanging on through the thick, thin, and general roughness of the world. I was proud of myself for still being able to let my hair down once in a while and have fun.

“Gimme your phone,” Leah slurred beside me, breaking through my alcohol-induced haze.

I frowned at her. “Why?”

“Just give it to me.”

And I did, without asking any further questions. I watched, droopy-eyed, as she typed on my phone, her expression focused, and then handed it back to me.

“What did you just do?”

She smiled and winked at me. “I made your job way easier.”

I didn’t think too much of her response, and instead, we all just kept having fun for the next half hour.

“We need to leave,” Leah announced, grabbing Francine suddenly.

I looked up, confused. “I thought we were leaving together? I just need to order a cab.”

“Uh, we have a family emergency and need to leave ASAP,” Leah said, turning to Francine, who nodded awkwardly.

“Yeah, we need to leave now.”

I was a bit confused, but I was too tipsy to question what was going on. “Uh, okay then. Text me when you’re home safe.”

We said our goodbyes and I went back to my seat as I waited for a cab to arrive. Suddenly, the bar door burst open, slamming against the wall with a bang. I flinched, and through the haze of alcohol, I saw the blur of a very familiar silhouette.

Shawn.

What was he doing here at this late at night? And how did he know I was here?

I watched him scan the bar frantically until his eyes finally landed on me. Before I could fully register his arrival, he was at my side, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. He knelt down, his hands cupping my face as he searched my eyes.

“Ally, are you okay?” His voice held so much concern it surprised me.

I tried to blink back the alcohol. “Shawn, what are you doing here?”

He looked even more worried now. “You texted me that…” He trailed off, his gaze blank for a moment before I realized what happened.

“My friend Leah texted you,” I said, feeling heat creep up my neck.

Fucking Leah.There was no family emergency at all.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but the concern remained etched on his face. “Are you sure you’re alright to be here alone?”

“I was just waiting for my cab,” I confessed, feeling a childish need to explain myself. “Girls’ night out, you know?”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent shivers down my spine. “You’re tipsy.”

“I’m not,” I protested.

Shawn reached out and brushed a stray strand of black hair off my cheek with his thumb. His touch sent a tingle through me, and I pulled back instinctively.

“I should get you home,” he said, his voice soft.

Before I could protest, he swept me into his arms with practiced ease. A surprised squeak escaped my lips, but I didn’t resist. He carried me out of the bar, effortlessly weaving through the bustling crowd, his body heat warding off the cool night air.

“Hey!” I squeaked again, trying not to laugh. “I can walk!”

He chuckled. “You look completely wasted and I don’t think you’ll be able to make it in those heels.”

He deposited me gently in the passenger seat of his car, the leather seat cool against my flushed skin.

“No driver today?” I mumbled.

“I rushed out of the house because I was worried about you.”

“Oh,” I said simply as he slipped into the driver’s seat.

I watched with heavy eyelids as he zoomed past the slightly familiar streets and headed in the direction of my home. From time to time, I turned my head to look at him, and each time, he’d catch me looking because he’d been looking at me first.

My heart couldn’t stop pounding in my chest. I really wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but I knew that wasn’t it. Shawn made me pretty nervous, and that was obvious.

After fifteen minutes of driving, we got to my apartment building, and I was practically asleep. I’d had a long night and a lot of alcohol in my system, and Shawn gently nudged me awake.

“We’re here, sleepyhead.”

I looked up at him, my vision slightly blurry. For a very brief moment, our eyes locked and there was a spark of something I couldn’t quite place.

“Will you be able to get to your apartment safely?” Shawn asked me.

I nodded, but as I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt and get up, I was pulled back down by the fuzzy feeling of alcohol. We both chuckled, knowing that I was in no position to get to my apartment without help.

“Looks like I underestimated how drunk you are,” he said, reaching over and unbuckling me himself.

Before I could stop him or say something else, he scooped me up again and carried me up the stairs and into my apartment.

He placed me gently on my bed, took off my shoes, and covered me with a blanket. He lingered over me for a bit and whispered,

“I’m sorry for Friday night. When you’re awake, call me.”

He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and walked out. And then I drifted off to sleep, a small smile on my lips.