Page 12 of Relentless Touch

“Kevin.”

“I was just resting my face. Near the counter. With my eyes closed.” He slid off the stool. “Fine. You busted me.”

Rio’s bedroom was at the end of a short hallway, past a bathroom and what appeared to be a room that had been converted to a home office, smaller and messier than the one at the restaurant. The bedroom had the same qualities as the rest of the house—lived in, considered. A window on the mountain side, curtains that were actually closed. A bed that was large enough to not feel crowded.

Kevin sat on the edge of it and looked at his hands.

Behind him, he could hear Rio in the bathroom, the sounds of water running and cabinets opening and closing. Normal, domestic sounds. Sounds that were easy to imagine waking up to, which was exactly why Kevin’s brain had no business going anywhere near them.

He lay back, staring at the ceiling.

The mate pull was a low, constant thing, like a string pulled taut from his sternum toward the bathroom door. His impala knew exactly where Rio was at all times, had been tracking him all night, would probably track him through walls if necessary. Kevin had been ignoring it with the dogged focus of a man trying not to look at a car accident.

He wondered, lying there in the dark, how long the easy part lasted. Weeks, maybe. A month if Rio was patient, and he struck Kevin as patient. Then the reality of his life would show up uninvited, the way it always did. Something would go sideways. Something would follow him, find him, use him to get to someone else. It had happened before.

Nobody wanted to sign up for that on a permanent basis. Not really. Not once they understood what they were actually agreeing to.

Rio would figure it out. He was perceptive enough to see it coming.

Kevin stared at the ceiling and told himself he was going to leave before that point. Before it got messy. Before Rio looked at him differently. He would plan a clean exit with minimal damage. He was good at exits. He’d had a lot of practice.

He was also lying in his mate’s bed having this conversation with himself. After tonight. After what had happened in the office.

Maybe you should’ve thought of that before he put his mouth on your neck and his snow leopard decided that was a perfectly reasonable time to claim someone.

Great planning. Solid execution. Really top-tier decision-making all around.

The bathroom door opened.

Rio came to bed without turning on a light, moving through his own space with the confidence of someone who knew every inch of it. The mattress dipped as he settled in, and Kevin kept his eyes on the ceiling. His breathing evened out, and he refused to think about how close he was.

“Still awake,” Rio said.

“Resting my eyes.”

“Your eyes are open.”

“They’re resting in the open position.” Kevin turned his head. In the dark, Rio was a shape beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth coming off his mate. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” Rio said and left it there.

Kevin waited for more. There wasn’t any. Just Rio, seeming comfortable with silence without a need to fill it.

“No regrets,” Rio said, after a while. “In case you’re wondering.”

Kevin looked back at the ceiling. His impala stirred.

He didn’t say anything back, because regrets had a way of arriving on a delay and Rio would learn that eventually. You didn’t know what you were signing up for yet. You’ve known me for twelve hours through a parking lot crisis and one night on an office desk. Wait until you see the full picture.

He kept all of that behind his lips and listened to Rio’s breathing slow into sleep.

Outside, the mountain was quiet. Just wind in the pines and the occasional creak of a branch on a nearby tree.

Kevin knew he should sleep.

He stared into the darkness instead, his jaw set, listening to his mate breathe beside him. Rio might’ve said he had no regrets, but Kevin knew his mate eventually would. No one wanted drama in their life, and Kevin’s life was nothing but chaotic.

Thinking of Rio walking away made him ache. Maybe Kevin would bail before things got complicated.