Page 58 of The Alpha's Fake Mate
“It will be a little big on you, I think, but keep you warm.”
He took it and shrugged into it. It dwarfed him. The arms were far too long and hid his hands. The hem hung to his knees. But the black color looked good on him.
Alston handed me a large umbrella, and we went out into the rain.
The limo was waiting.
We got inside with only a few raindrops splashing onto the leather couches. Once seated, the driver took off. I could hear the water rolling against the tires, a sort of sleepy, lonely sound… like a distant sea.
I brought out two beers.
“I think I had enough to drink last night,” Holland said.
I set it on the drink stand next to him anyway.
The entire drive, he barely moved. He had his head turned, staring out the rain spattered window, his profile defiant, immovable. I admired him for being who he was. But he didn’t know that and if I told him he wouldn’t have believed it.
The tension in the air seemed to zap like static despite the one hundred percent humidity.
I wanted—what did I want to do? Take him by the hand or the arm, or around the waist. Sweep him away, far away, where no one knew him or us. Where we were strangers starting over, where I could meet him on a level of no fear, and where maybe his storm-blue eyes might know calm even if only for short periods of time.
The limo entered the city, which was gray and half covered in fog. When we reached the dark parking garage with its yellow sodium lights, it had felt like the drive had gone on far too long, and yet it also felt as if no time had passed.
Holland showed no sign of nervousness when exiting the car.
My own heart vibrated high in my chest.
Approaching the elevator, I wanted to take his hand. What was wrong with me?
He entered the elevator first. I pushed the button for the seventeenth floor.
There, Doctor Wilde’s pretty Omega husband from yesterday met us and ushered us immediately into the same room where he had drawn Holland’s blood.
I glanced at my phone about every minute we waited, which was how I knew we’d waited five whole minutes in utter silence. It seemed longer.
Finally, the door opened.
Doctor Wilde stepped in, glancing at both of us and holding out his hand to mine in greeting. When he tried to shake Holland’s hand, of course Holland turned away.
“I have your results.”
“That’s why we came,” Holland said, voice empty, face hard.
“Yes. It’s a matter of some delicacy, and I can see why you’re both looking a bit tense.”
I wanted to yell at him.Get on with it! Just tell us!
Holland and I stood side by side. We had not bothered to utilize the two chairs, or the exam table. We were simply waiting for words the doctor would not communicate any other way but in person.
Doctor Wilde leaned against the clean, white counter. He held a paper file in his hands.
“It’s not as straight-forward as it could be, I’m afraid,” he began.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Holland’s words shot from his mouth with barely disguised fury.
“Your blood results show a mate-bond, but it’s faint. Not strong at all. Is your mate, by any chance, deceased?”
All the blood seemed to drain from Holland’s face.
