Page 83 of His White Moonlight
I was wrong.The idea was completely and absolutely ridiculous.
Ihadto be wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I groanedat the sound of my alarm.It’d taken hours to fall asleep after my stupid brain spun its stress-induced theory about Bennett’s mate being me, which wasn’t true.I’d known him since he was nearly fourteen.Sure, he denied any sibling relationship with me, but he’d also never, not once, shown any interest in me.All his weirdness now stemmed from not claiming his mate.
Grandma had once told me a story about a guy who went insane waiting for his mate to accept him.Obviously, that guy was Bennett’s current role model.
“Are you going to turn the alarm off or sleep through it?”Bennett asked.
“I’m thinking about feeding it to you.”
“Hmm.It is almost as flat as last night's burger.”
I opened my eyes to glare at him.He was leaning against the doorjamb, watching me.
“And you’ve learned nothing.”
“Not true.I didn’t try waking you up with a different alarm, and I’m staying a healthy distance away.See?Baby steps.”
The smile he flashed at me highlighted how devastatingly good-looking he was, which was completely unacceptable.
Rather than telling him to get out, I flipped back the covers and marched to my room to get ready for the day, ignoring his soft chuckle.
It would have been great if he’d left me alone while I showered and got ready, but he didn’t.He talked to me through the door as soon as I turned off the water.
“How are your hands?Do you need help with the ointment?”
“No.I’m fine.”
“Do you want me to brush your hair?”
“Nope, I can manage it today.”
Only by sheer will, though.My palms felt raw and bruised, and it hurt to use them.
I looked down at them, knowing I could use them as an excuse not to go to work.Would I be stuck home alone with Bennett, though?Better not to risk it.
Since I had the foresight to bring clothes into the bathroom with me this time, I was dressed when I opened the door and found him standing by my vanity, looking at all the things Mom had purchased for me.
He held up a mascara box.
“You haven’t used any of this?”
“No.Makeup isn’t my thing.”
Confusion flashed in his expression as he looked at the mascara.
“I thought you asked for this brand while you were at school.”
All the expensive makeup I’d asked for over the years had been used as currency: bribes for information or silence.But I wasn’t about to admit that to him.
“Put it down, Bennett, or I’m going to smash your lunch too.”
His lips twitched, but he set the makeup down and followed me out the door without asking any more questions.
Sandy was putting our plates on the table when we walked into the dining room.Eggs, hash browns, ham, sausages, tomatoes, and mushrooms…a full breakfast.
