Page 106 of Found by the Pack
The phone clicks, Shepard curses. “Voicemail.”
Before either of us can think of what to do next, the bathroom door opens.
Sadie steps out, wet hair plastered to her shoulders, a towel wrapped tight around her body. She’s shivering, skin flushed, eyes glassy but sharp with need.
“Where is Boone?” Her voice cuts the air, trembling, desperate.
I can’t stop my eyes from flicking downward, just for a split second—to her hand clenching at the edge of the towel, fingers twitching. My stomach twists.
Is it arousal? I don’t want to think it. I chastise myself immediately, hard.Don’t you dare, Gabe. Don’t you fucking dare.
Shepard turns back toward her, his restraint written in the stiff set of his jaw. “I tried to call. He didn’t answer. It’s going straight to voicemail.”
“Fuck,” she curses, pushing past him. The towel clings to her thighs as she moves into the bedroom, frustration bleeding from every step.
I find myself following before I realize I’ve moved. She’s rifling through the closet, hands shaking as she shoves hangers aside.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice harsher than I mean.
“I need to go home,” she snaps. “I need clothes. Where are my clothes?” Her voice cracks on the last word. I can practically see the desperation wafting off of her.
“Sadie, you need to try to calm down. It will only make things worse if you panic.”
She turns her eyes on me. “Don’t. Don’t tell me what to do, or think, or feel. Why are you even here? I know you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with me.”
Is that what she really thinks?
“Sadie,” I curse. I take a step forward and then stop myself. “I’m here because I was worried about you. I know I’ve been kind of a dick lately, but I promise that says more about me than you.”
Her lips part, like she wants to fire back, but instead a whimper slips out, unbidden, fragile.
“Are you okay?” My voice softens before I even think about it.
“Fuck!” she gasps, clutching the towel tighter against her body, her legs trembling beneath her.
“Sadie…”
Her head shakes violently. “Don’t take a step closer to me. Don’t. Because you smell good and it is fucking with my head, and I’m still so pissed at you, but I want to—” She cuts herself off, voice low, throaty, unrecognizable. “I don’t know what I want.”
Her confession rattles through me, unsteadying everything I’ve built up to keep myself apart from her.
“What’s going on?” Shepard’s voice slices the moment. We both turn. He’s standing in the doorway, phone pressed to his ear, eyes flicking between us.
“Nothing,” I lie, too fast. My jaw tightens. “Have you been able to reach Boone?”
He shakes his head, frustration tight in his features. “No. It connected, but immediately disconnected. I don’t get it.”
Sadie moans suddenly, louder this time, and then her knees buckle.
Both of us lunge at once, instincts overriding sense. We catch her under the arms, pulling her upright before she collapses completely. Her skin is burning, fever pouring off her in waves. She whimpers again, head rolling toward my shoulder.
“Bed,” Shepard snaps, taking the lead, and together we guide her onto the mattress.
Her towel slips. It falls away before either of us can stop it, pooling at her waist. My gut twists. Shepard’s quicker than I am—he yanks a sheet up, covering her before the sight can undo me completely.
“Sadie, take a deep breath,” he instructs firmly, voice coaxing, steady in a way mine isn’t. “It’ll help.”
Her chest heaves, breaths shallow, broken. I want to believe his words will anchor her, but I can see in the glazed look of her eyes that she’s barely tethered at all.
