I was still looking at my feet when everyone answered no.
I walked around Isobel’s bed and passed by Liam, sensing him everywhere. It was as though his alpha-ness had grown. Was that possible?
In the hospital hallway, I took a deep breath. The myriad of chemical smells and human diseases made my nose itch and my eyes water. Blinking repeatedly, I plucked a tissue from the box on the nurse’s station to dab at the moisture.
The cafeteria was full of visitors, and the hubbub made my head throb. I needed sleep. A lot of it. Hopefully I wouldn’t wake at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning. I bought an overpriced ham sandwich before returning to the wing where Isobel would spend the next two nights. As I ate my sandwich, a chill swept over my arms, and not from any AC vent; I sensed a presence. An unwelcome one. Through narrowed eyes, I took in every inch of the hallway, coming to a stop on a closed door. I strode over to it and squinted through the inset glass. The room was dark. I listened for a sound-a breath, a pulse-but was met with silence. Yet my uneasiness grew. I inhaled deeply, and layered over the unpleasant reek of the medical facility was a cloying, distinctive cologne: Aidan Michaels’s.
I turned the doorknob and barged inside, hoping the reason I smelled him but didn’t see him was because he lay dead in his hospital bed. No such luck. The bed was made with crisp, papery sheets, the adjustable overbed table wiped clean, and the blinds shut.
This must’ve been the room he’d recovered in.
As I turned to leave, I smacked into a large body. Heart battering, I lurched backward and flung my gaze up. Liam stared down at me, jaw set, eyes dark.
I clapped a palm over my frantic heart. “You just gave me a heart attack.”
His expression softened the teeniest bit. “Good thing we’re in a hospital then.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then, Liam asked, “How have you been?” at the same time as I asked, “Did you find the owner of the yellow car?”
Liam pressed his lips together. “Straight to business.”
He was right. That wasn’t very nice. “I’ve been okay. And you?” The intensity with which he observed me dampened my palms. I wiped them on my leggings.
“I’ve been better.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Cole matched it to a yellow Hummer. He saw the car on a traffic light monitor.”
Cole had hacked into the city’s traffic monitoring system?
Why was I surprised?
“Colorado license plates. CRK-590. Creek-owned, as I’m sure you got from the letters.” He sighed. “No apology will undo how quick I was to blame you, but I’ll say it again anyway.” He took a step toward me. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to forgive me.” He tilted his face down and dropped his voice to a murmur. “I. Am. Sorry.”
And then he said it again through the mind link.
And again.
And with each apology, he moved closer to me, chipping at the defensive wall I’d erected around myself. He must’ve sensed he was getting through to me, because he didn’t stop advancing until we were standing toe to toe.
I raised my hand and pressed my palm into his black T-shirt. “Stop.”
I wasn’t sure if he would, but he did.
He stopped.
Stopped speaking.
Stopped moving.
My hand tingled with his strong heartbeats, and my forehead prickled from his warm breaths. I lowered my gaze to his chin, smooth from a fresh shave.
His lips moved to form my name.
A slow burn traveled through my blood, concentrated in my navel, ignited there.
“I need you,” he whispered.
“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.”
My words had the adverse effect on him.
It untied his tongue, made him speak all the reasons he needed me-that I lent him strength, that I calmed him, that I made his life sweeter, brighter, better.
“Give me another chance, babe. Give us another chance. I won’t screw it up this time. I understand what I stand to lose.” His chocolate eyes glowed in the lines of sun spilling through the blinds. I swear it on the pack.
I hated his entire declaration, not because it was too little too late, but because it was too much too soon. “Don’t swear on the pack,” I whispered.
“On my life then. I swear it on my life.”
Shaking my head, I let my palm drift off his T-shirt, off his heart. My eyes stung.
From Aidan’s scent.
From Liam’s.
“Liam, I can’t.”
For a moment, his expression shuttered up, turned into his firm Alpha mask, but a flush had risen to my cheeks. A chink in my armor. Even though he didn’t lay a single finger on my body, his gaze traced the contours of my face. His earlier remorse and tentativeness were gone, replaced by something that all at once sharpened and softened all of his features.
Hope.
Even though I realized my grudge had faded, I also realized that giving Liam hope was unfair.
“Not now, Liam. Not until my mind and body clear of the mating link.” Even though I appeared collected on the outside, chaos reigned inside of me. I was a mess of jumbled emotions and peculiar thoughts.
“I’ll wait.” He gave me a look that was so bruisingly ardent my heart fired like a rifle. “The same way your… ”
His voice dimmed as I noticed the hulking figure darkening the open doorway. My stomach contracted. How long had August been standing there?
Liam exploited my moment of inattention to touch me. His fingers were suddenly on my face, pushing a lock of hair off my forehead.
I pranced backward.
He unhurriedly returned his hand to his side, seemingly unshaken by my reaction.