My Boyfriend Cheated With My Best Friend, So the Pack Law Handed Me to His Brother novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: Term Six

The Cabral Seafood plant sits on the Fairhaven side of the Acushnet, a long steel building with a loft office over the loading dock.

I crossed the bridge at ten the next night on foot, with my hair still wet from the shower.

The plant was dark except for one lit window.

I let myself in through the dock door, because Tomás had once shown me where the night man hides the key, and I had never told anyone.

The stairs were metal and the whole place smelled of cold brine and bleach.

At the top there was a glass door with a name on it, and the light behind it was gold.

He was at his desk with a ledger open and his sleeves rolled to the elbow.

He looked up when I opened the door.

I watched him stand without meaning to, and the pen rolled off the page.

"Miss Pacheco," he said.

"I'm adding a term."

"Of course."

"Six." I shut the door behind me and turned the lock.

"Tonight."

He did not move.

I watched his eyes go from my face to the lock and back to my face, and the Ledger, who had never lost a count, lost it.

"I don't understand," he said carefully.

"You do."

"Zia." It was the first time he'd used my name when it wasn't an accident.

"I will not do this because of the bond. If it's the pull, I'd rather wait until it lets go."

"It's not letting go. I asked it to. It said no." I crossed the office.

"I'm here because I've been thinking about your hands for four days. Nobody told me to. Nobody's going to put it in a ledger."

I stopped in front of the desk.

He was looking at me and he had not blinked.

"Then say what you want," he said hoarsely.

"Sit down."

He sat in his chair.

I came around the desk and stood between his knees.

"Put your hands on the arms of the chair," I said.

He did.

"They stay there until I move them."

"Yes," he said.

"Say it," I said.

"My hands stay where you put them." His voice had dropped, scraped and low. "Zia, I'm not made of stone."

"I know," I said. "That's what I want to find out."

I took his face in my hands.

His jaw was rough under my palms.

I kissed him, and it was not like the doorway or the storm.

It was a real kiss, slow and deep, and he made a sound into my mouth that I swallowed.

His hands gripped the chair arms until the leather creaked.

I opened my mouth under his and found his tongue, and he tasted of black coffee and rain, and every inch of me came awake.

"Touch me," I said.

"Where?"

"My waist."

His hands came off the chair and settled on my hips, hot and enormous, and I felt the shock of it go straight down my spine.

"Not tight."

His grip eased.

He kept them still, thumbs just resting on my hipbones.

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