Gavil extended his hand to his younger brother. All of this was so foreign to Creed, he hesitated briefly before reaching out and shaking the hand of the person who tormented him his whole life and even tried to kill him more than once.
The brothers locked eyes as they stood together—an unspoken truce accepted by both. Nodding, Gavil turned to the door, fist pounding on it. It swung open. “He will need an escort to the hanger in exactly thirty minutes,” Gavil barked the order to the soldier nearest him.
“Sir, yes sir.” The meta clipped.
Without a backward glance, Gavil turned left and walked down the research hospital’s hallway passing undisturbed, thoughts of her always just below his gruff surface.
Chapter 29 You’re Not On My Mind
She heard breathing.
Rhythmic, deep, sleeping breaths.
Meg couldn’t open her eyes—terrified at what she would find.
It may sound childish, but she didn’t care. She refused to confirm what she was pretty sure had happened.
The slow, contented breaths had to come from her friend turned more-than-friend, Cole asleep in her bed. She stifled a groan.
Inwardly, she laid into Evan for making her take those freakin’ sleeping pills. She was so lonely, so hurt from months of self-inflicted isolation and sleep deprivation. Meg was intoxicated with the chemical induced pleasure of feeling sleepy. She was drunk on a full stomach, a my-family-loves-me-no-matter-what kind of peace and a handsome guy pouring love down the empath funnel directly into her aching heart. He was so gentle and warm snuggled close and when he kissed her (she swallowed hard), he kissed her as if he was tasting the most delicious chocolates.
Damn it! It was the perfect storm for crossing the line!
Eyes still pinched shut, Meg let up her anger at everyone else and realized there was only one person to blame for any wrongdoing: herself. She should have never let this happen.
With a deep sigh, she forced herself to open her eyes and face the truth lying right beside her. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she couldn’t lie in bed with a blanket pulled over her head forever, however much she wanted to.
And there, laying peacefully beside her was…Maze.
At sensing her movement he opened his sleepy yellow eyes and winked at her before lifting his head and yawing wide enough for her to count each and every one of the flesh-tearing teeth inside his muzzle.
She stared, wide-eyed. “Maze?”
“Meg?”
Her head spun at the voice from behind her. There, seated in the wingback chair in the corner of her room, was Cole rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and he moved as though carefully working the kinks out of his body.
“Cole?”
“Hey, kid. How did you sleep?”
Her jaw dropped as she looked back and forth between the coyote still lying beside her and Cole rolling his stiff neck slowly in a chair five feet away.
“Um…you tell me.” She had never felt more confused than she did that moment.
“Well, there was no screaming, moaning or thrashing,” he smiled. She was too panicked to read his emotions.
What the hell did he mean by that? Meg started gnawing on her bottom lip. Holy crap, her eyes bugged out. Did we do more than kiss? Was that a mischievous glint in his eye?
He stood and reached his muscular arms high above his head, stretching his full six foot, two inches and grinned adorably at her. “Are you hungry?”
Meg couldn’t do anything but stare and try to control the fight-or-flight impulse coursing through her body. She shook her head and covered her face with her hands, trying to control herself.
All she could think was, Oh my, God! Oh my, God! Oh my, God!
“Hey, are you okay? You look upset all of a sudden,” Cole’s green eyes crackled with worry as he walked toward her and sat at the edge of the bed. His warm hands grabbed her wrists and gently urged her hands away from her face. He studied her carefully, waiting for her to respond.
“Cole, don’t be mad at me when I ask this, okay?” Meg was tried to control the panic in her voice.
“Okay.” Cole looked warily at her.
“No, seriously. I need to hear you say it,” she pleaded.
“Say what?” he frowned; worry forming shadows in his handsome brow.
“I need to hear you say, ‘Meg, I won’t be mad at you.’ Can you do that for me? Please?” The more she spoke, the more she was beside herself with terror that she was about to make things so much worse.
He squinted at her, then rolled his eyes and repeated, “Meg, I won’t be mad at you. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Meg hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and blurting, “What happened between us last night?”
Cole’s face was unreadable in her panicked state. “What do you mean?”
Unable to stop herself, Meg shook his hands off her wrists and flew out from under the covers. She began pacing the floor, periodically flapping her hands as if she had spider webs clinging to her finger tips.
“Last night, Cole. I remember Evan giving me sleeping pills and you were sitting there in that chair,” she flapped toward the wingback, “and I got in bed…”