Chapter 7: Three Taps on the Door

On Saturday evening Ansel came back from the hardware store with a new lock for my door.

He held it out.

"I'm going to put this on," he said. "Then I'm going to test it. Then I'll hand you both keys."

"You bought me a lock."

"The old one doesn't catch," he said. "Anyone could walk in."

"Anyone did," I said. "You sat on my stairs for four hours."

"That was me."

"Exactly."

He almost smiled and bent over the door with a screwdriver.

I stood behind him with my arms folded and watched his shoulders move under his shirt.

When the lock clicked, he straightened and turned around.

I hadn't realized how close I was standing.

He was a foot from me, and he smelled like rain and machine oil.

Neither of us moved.

His eyes went to my mouth, and mine went to his.

My wolf went quiet in my chest.

His hand came up slowly and stopped an inch from my cheek.

I could feel the heat of it on my skin.

He was waiting.

For me to guess it, I thought.

For me to know, without being told.

And that made me angry in a way I hadn't expected.

"Go on," I said, and my voice came out sharper than I meant it. "Say it out loud, Alpha. Plans, remember?"

His hand dropped.

He closed his eyes, and he laughed once, a low, helpless sound.

"I'd like to kiss you," he said. "I'd like it very much. I told you I wouldn't."

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