Page 59 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
Lola blinked.
“Complicated how?”
He stood up and grabbed his sweatpants from the floor, facing away from her like the conversation physically pained him, “Red Teeth is out there. Felix is on edge. The pack’stightening patrols, and I’ve got responsibilities. Real ones. Not just babysitting shifts between hook-ups.”
“So… thiswasjust a hook-up then?”
He froze.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then whatdidyou mean, Dane?” she pressed, more force behind her words than she meant. “Because you’re giving a lot of reasons why this can’t mean anything, but none of them actually sound like the truth.”
He turned toward her, arms crossed, frowning like he wished she’d just stop talking.
“You want the truth?” he snapped. “The truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing, alright? You and Sam… you’re the only reason I’ve even remotely kept my shit together the past few months. And now we’ve gone and added…whateverthisis to the mix, and I don’t know what that means or what I’m supposed to do with it.”
She stared at him, heart thudding in her chest. “You could start by not acting like I’ve done something wrong by asking.”
“I’m not blaming you, Lola! I’m trying to keep things from going sideways before they even start.”
“Thensay that!” Her voice cracked with frustration. “Say you’re scared or confused or just not interested in me that way, don’t hide behind excuses about Red Teeth or the pack!”
Dane opened his mouth like he might say something else, but nothing came out.
Lola stood up, wrapping the sheet tightly around her. She felt ridiculous, naked, embarrassed,stupidfor thinking maybe this time something real could come from something messy.
“I thought we were friends,” she said softly.
“We are.”
“Then why does this feel like I just got broken up with from something I didn’t even know I was in?”
He looked at her like he wanted to fix it. But all he did was nod, jaw clenched, gaze low.
That was it.
No apology. No explanation. Just silence.
Her heart was splintering in slow motion.
“I need to check on Sam,” she said, already stepping past him.
“He’s not crying.”
“He might be.”
She didn’t wait for him to stop her.
She didn’t want to hear another excuse.
She walked out of the room, her shoulders stiff, every step aching with the weight of disappointment.
Sam’s soft, sleepy breaths greeted her the moment she stepped into the nursery.
The sound was small. Fragile.
Lola pressed a trembling hand to her chest and exhaled, then crossed the room, lowering herself gently onto the edge of the armchair beside the crib. The white noise machine hummed on the shelf, blending with the rustle of blankets as Sam stirred.
