14. Slade

14

SLADE

F or the last six years, Quin has been my everything.

He doesn’t know that, of course. The one time he wrote me to ask why I killed a man, I never wrote him back. I drafted dozens of letters, all with different lies about what happened, but in the end, I didn’t send them.

He wasn’t going to wait for me anyway. My initial sentence was ten years. I told myself it would be better for him if he had a clean break. But that didn’t stop me from reliving our time together over and over again during the dark nights at Sciff. When I felt lonely, I thought of his dimpled smile. When the food was particularly bad, I remembered the taste of his warm, soft bread. When my prison sentence felt eternal, I’d close my eyes and think of how well his body fit curled into mine.

And now here he is in the flesh. I couldn’t believe it when the guards told me he’d signed up to be my ride, and now…

I don’t know if I can keep my hands off him. Not when he leans his cheek into my hand like that. He still smells of vanilla and hope. His face looks older, but his big brown eyes are the same.

What I wouldn’t give for another chance to kiss him.

“Do you still want me?” Quin whispers.

I lean in closer to him, until I’m hovering just a few inches from his face. Should I be honest with him and admit that my grizzly heart will never stop wanting him?

He looks back at me, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” I say.

He moves in closer until our noses brush, then drags the tip of his against the bridge of my nose, and God. That little touch makes my whole body light up. I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. Just that hint of him is wildly erotic.

“What if I wanted you to take me right here in this car?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I close my eyes and press our foreheads together. “Do you?”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

I grab the back of his head and claim his mouth with a fierceness I worry will scare him. He lets out the sweetest whimper as I deepen the kiss, diving my tongue between his lips. He tastes of cinnamon and sugar.

We kiss each other with desperation, his hands roaming over my chest. I allow myself to lose control, giving in to the temptation to suck on the bottom of his lip and move my mouth to the tender lobe of his ear. Every sharp intake of his breath is a glorious sign that he wants this, too. It’s so unexpected, I don’t think about what comes next or how long it will last. Until he breaks away.

His face is flushed and his lips are swollen. I’ve spent the last six years remembering the beauty of his face, and my memories didn’t come close to how striking he is right now.

“Before we do anything else, I have something I need to tell you,” he says. “You have a right to know.”

Is he dating someone else? The idea of it makes my stomach twist with jealousy, even though I have no claim to him.

“Do you know how raccoon shifters take a mate?” he asks.

I nod. Everyone knows that a raccoon shifter can make someone fall for them with the touch of their paws. Has Quin put his paws on someone already? I guess we’re twenty-four. Plenty of shifters bond by the age of twenty-four. But if Quin was already bonded, what is he doing kissing me?

“That night when I was in your bedroom, I…” Quin trails off. “I, um, put my paws on you.”

I think back to that night. I got caught up in making love to Quin, and didn’t stop to wonder why he was in my room in the first place. I remember how badly I wanted him—how little control I had over myself.

“What does this mean? Are we mates?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “The bond never had a chance to form properly.”

Quin put his paws on me. I can’t believe it. All this time, I’ve gotten it wrong. I thought it was my grizzly heart that kept me yearning for Quin. If only I had known.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He swallows hard. “Has our connection faded for you?”

I open my mouth to answer him, but I’m not sure what I should say. If I admit how deep our connection still is for me, will he feel obligated to pursue whatever is left between us? Is that fair to him now that I’m a convict?

“It’s okay.” Quin says, but his eyes well with tears. “You don’t have to worry about…” He shrugs instead of finishing his sentence.

“Quin—”

He starts the engine again. “It isn’t a big deal.” He wipes the tears away, and my heart aches. He’s getting this all wrong.

“I’ve thought of you every day for the last six years,” I say.

He turns to me, his lip trembling. “You did?”

“Yes. I just thought… I’m half grizzly shifter. We only fall in love once. I figured I’d given my heart to you already.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I want to gather him into my arms and kiss him. I just don’t know what he wants. He clearly regrets putting his paws on me.

I’m probably his biggest mistake.

“I should have told you,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Slade, I put paws on you without asking first, and I didn’t even tell you. I have plenty to be sorry for.”

God, it takes every ounce of self-control I have to not kiss him again.

“No. You… chose me.” Emotion gathers in my throat, and I worry I’m going to cry too. “I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

“You didn’t know. You were just trying to protect your brother, right?” He shrinks a little, like he’s afraid of me, and why wouldn’t he be? I wish I could tell Quin everything. If he knew that I didn’t kill anyone, maybe that would make a difference to him. But what if he let it slip to someone–someone like his brothers who might tell the cops.

Jake would never survive Sciff. I can’t take the risk.

“I thought he was killing my brother.” It’s the same lie I told the police that night in the warehouse.

“And so you got mad?” Quin asks.

“I was just trying to save him.” At least this part is true. I hope Quin can see that.

Quin wrings his hands nervously. “Have you ever hurt someone like that before? In high school, they said you went to jail.”

“I went to a different foster home for a while. Georgina got caught up in some legal trouble because of something stupid her nephew did, and I had to be moved until she was cleared.”

“Oh. I shouldn’t have assumed?—”

“It’s okay. I’ve never hit someone who didn’t hit me first, Quin. Not ever.”

He searches my face. I don’t know if he believes me.

“What happens now that you’ve put your paws on me?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Our connection was supposed to fade a long time ago. That’s what happens to people who put their hands on someone and a bond doesn’t properly form.”

Hope surges in my chest. “Maybe our bond is just forming more slowly.”

“No,” Quin says. “If a bond was forming, I’d know it.”

“How?”

“I would start my collection.”

I still don’t follow. “What do you mean collection?”

“Raccoon shifters collect beautiful things when their bond is forming, and they display those things all over their house as a celebration of their love.” He looks away from me. “Or they collect beautiful things after their heart has mended from a bond that never formed. It’s a way of moving on. I haven’t collected anything yet.”

So we haven’t bonded and Quin hasn’t been able to move on. I’ve held his heart hostage for six years.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “What should we do now?”

He lowers his gaze to my lips. “I don’t know.”

That’s when I understand why he came. He wasn’t doing me a favor. He’s here because his heart is still tied to a criminal—a criminal he’s afraid of. And he doesn’t know what to do about it.

The way he’s looking at me right now makes me want to forget everything and make out with him until we don’t care why we’re hot for each other. But I fucked this up. That means it’s my responsibility to fix it.

“Is there some kind of raccoon bond expert we could go see?” I ask.

“Um, maybe. But I haven’t ever heard of anyone like that.”

“Would your omega mom know?”

He bites his lip. “I haven’t exactly told her about this.”

He’s probably embarrassed of me.

“I told my aunt,” he says. “If there was someone who could help out with messed up bonds, I think she would have mentioned it. Unless she didn’t know about them. She spends more time with animals than people.” He sighs and faces forward in his seat. “I have to tell my moms.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t want to?—”

“Slade, I am this close to climbing on your lap and begging you to fuck me in this car, even though we’re less than a mile from Sciff. Clearly, our connection hasn’t faded at all.” He rolls down his window and puts the car into drive. “We need help.”

I try not to feel disappointed. I would have eagerly agreed to fuck him in this car if he’d asked. My cock is still uncomfortably hard. But if he doesn’t want that, I won’t try to persuade him otherwise.

“Okay,” I agree.

He pulls out onto the road. “We shouldn’t stop somewhere along the way to let off some steam, right? Not when we don’t know what’s going on.”

My cock aches at the suggestion. “I… think we should do whatever you want to do.”

He clenches his jaw. “We can’t. It would be irresponsible.”

He’s probably right. But damn, this car ride is going to be eternal.