Page 28 of Midnight Mate
Clint stood at the kitchen counter, wondering what he could throw together for lunch. Leftover pasta from days before stared back from the refrigerator shelf, congealed and unappetizing. Behind him, Bayne paced the living room like a caged animal, footsteps heavy on the hardwood.
Great. Nothing like a tense lunch after finding out you’d been promoted from one-night stand to eternal soul-bond without anyone bothering to mention it.
Anger simmered under Clint’s skin, hot and tight. Not the explosive kind. More like the slow burn that came from realizing someone had made decisions about his life without consulting him. Even if that someone had abs that could grate cheese and a mouth that had done incredible things to him earlier.
“So.” The word came out sharper than intended. “Were you planning to mention the mate thing, or was I supposed to figure it out when you started peeing on my furniture?”
Bayne stopped pacing. Turned. Those honey-colored eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made Clint’s stomach flip despite his irritation. “Would it have changed anything?”
“Maybe the part where I get a say in my own future?” Clint slammed the refrigerator door hard enough to rattle the bottles inside. “Or is that not how this works? You just decide we’re cosmically bound and I’m supposed to fall in line?”
Bayne’s hands curled tight at his sides, muscles flexing like he was holding something back. “That’s not—”
“Because, from where I’m standing, you knew something huge about us and kept it to yourself.” Heat crawled up his neck, frustration mixing with something else he didn’t want to examine too closely. “What else haven’t you told me? Do I sprout a tail at the full moon now? Should I stock up on flea shampoo?”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Bayne’s voice had gone low, dangerous. Not threatening exactly, but loaded with something that made Clint’s skin prickle.
“Then explain how it does work.” He grabbed a pan from the cabinet, needing something to do with his hands before he threw something. “Because apparently I’m the last to know about my own relationship status.”
Silence stretched between them, thick enough to choke on. Mabel watched from her perch on the windowsill, tail flicking with feline judgment.
Finally, Bayne exhaled through his nose. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“By telling me the truth?” Clint turned on the stove, blue flames licking to life under the pan. “Yeah, honesty is terrifying. Much better to let me find out in the middle of a parking lot while you’re ready to tear someone apart.”
“I shouldn’t have—” Bayne cut himself off, jaw working.
“Shouldn’t have what? Mentioned that I’m your mate? That apparently means something permanent and life-altering, which you decided I didn’t need to know about?”
Olive oil hit the hot pan with a satisfying hiss. At least something in his life still made sense. Heat plus oil equaled sizzle. Simple. Predictable. Unlike wolf shifters who showed up bleeding on lawns and rearranged entire futures without permission.
“I was going to tell you.” Bayne moved closer, stopping just outside the kitchen's threshold like there was an invisible barrier. “After things settled. After I figured out who was hunting me.”
“Convenient.” Clint dumped leftover pasta into the pan harder than necessary. “And what if they’d shown up here? What if Vaughn had been less friendly? Was I supposed to just figure out the mate thing while someone was trying to kill us?”
“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”
“That’s not the point.” Frustration boiled over, making his hands shake as he stirred. “The point is you made a choice about my life without me. You decided what I could handle knowing and what I couldn’t.”
Bayne’s expression morphed into something complicated—part guilt, part defiance, part something else that made Clint’s chest tight. “You’re right.”
Well. That took the wind out of his sails. It was hard to maintain righteous anger when someone just agreed with you.
“I should’ve told you.” Bayne’s shoulders dropped slightly. “But I didn’t know how. ‘Hey, thanks for saving my life. By the way you’re my eternal mate’ seemed like a lot to drop on someone.”
Despite himself, Clint’s mouth twitched. “You could’ve worked it into casual conversation. 'Pass the coffee, also we’re soul-bonded for eternity.'“
“Very smooth.” Something lighter entered Bayne’s voice. “Right up there with ‘nice weather we’re having, want to be cosmically bound?’”
Pasta sizzled in the pan, filling the kitchen with the smell of garlic and herbs. Some of the tension leaked out of Clint’s shoulders, though irritation still simmered underneath.
“I’m trying here.” Frustration leaked into Bayne’s voice but not the angry kind. More like someone attempting to explain color to the blind. “You want to know what it’s really like? Fine. Every instinct I have says to keep you close. Safe. Mine. It’s constant. Like background noise that never stops.”
Heat that had nothing to do with anger spread through Clint’s chest. “You still should’ve told me.”
“I know.” Bayne finally entered the kitchen properly, moving with that fluid grace that made him look like he was stalking even when just walking. “I’m not good at this. The talking part.”
“You seemed pretty good at talking when you were threatening Vaughn.”
