Chapter 92 JUST LIKE THAT
MERRIELYNN.
I woke up to an empty bed.
Cormac was nowhere in sight.
I sat up, the sheets pooling around my waist as I glanced around his room. I barely had time to process the stillness before a voice broke through the silence, almost startling me.
“Plotting your escape?”
Before I could turn around, a hand snaked around my waist and pulled me back down onto the mattress. I yelped, completely caught off guard, landing in an awkward upside-down sprawl. Cormac’s face appeared above mine, upside down from my perspective, his grin as lazy as it was smug.
“Cormac!” I tried to sound annoyed, but his lips were already on mine, silencing any protest.
The kiss was slow, and his mouth minty.
A spark of panic jolted through me when I remembered my own less-than-fresh state. Morning breath. Oh Goddess!
I turned my head sharply, breaking the kiss. “Nope. Nope. Nope,” I muttered, pressing a hand to my mouth as heat flushed my face. Mortified, I scrambled upright, but Cormac only leaned back against the headboard.
He didn’t look the least bit bothered. His dark hair was damp, sticking to his forehead in places, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts that hung low on his hips. A cigarette was tucked behind his left ear, somehow making him look even more infuriatingly carefree.
I rubbed at my mouth in embarrassment, and stood on my feet. “I need to go home,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes as I headed toward the edge of the bed.
The grin slipped from his face as he narrowed his eyes, “How often are you going to weaponize those words against me?”
I was surprised by that and I froze mid-step. Turning back, I blinked at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.
His expression said he was.
I sighed, dropping my shoulders. “It’s not like that,” I said, softening my tone. “I just need to clean up. Brush my teeth and stuff.” I gestured vaguely.
Cormac’s eyes twitched slightly.
“I just need to go, Cormac.” I insisted with s sigh. “I’m not plotting my escape. I just don’t want to die of humiliation because my breath smells like something crawled into my mouth and died.”
He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound was low and rough, but the tension in the air seemed to ease.
He stood and stretched, before saying “Fine. You don’t have to leave though. You can use the stuff you used last time,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “It’s all still in there. Untouched.”
I stared at him, caught off guard by the offer. And before I could even think of a response, he pushed off the bed and walked past me, “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll make breakfast.”
I stood there for a moment, my eyes following him until he disappeared down the hall. Slowly, I turned my gaze to the bathroom door to see that it was cracked open.
Without thinking too much about it, I stepped inside.
The toothbrush I’d used last time sat neatly in the same holder as his, and the sight of it was oddly domestic.
Made me feel like I was more than a guest.
No, that’s exactly what I was, I reminded myself. Just a guest.
Cormac and I weren’t in a relationship. Far from it.
And we’d never be in one. So whatever this feeling was, I needed to crush it before it grew into something I couldn’t control.
The bathroom smelled faintly of him—clean, masculine, with a hint of his cologne lingering in the air. I brushed my teeth, washed up, and did my best to ignore the little pang that wouldn’t leave me alone. By the time I was done, I felt better, more composed, but as I opened the door, a new problem greeted me.
I had nothing to wear.
I looked down at the towel wrapped tightly around me, then glanced at the bed. My lips slowly parted. There, neatly folded on the edge, were clothes—Cormac’s clothes.
Just like last time.
The warm feeling I’d been trying to ignore returned, this time stronger, spreading through me. I hesitated for a moment, running my fingers over the shirt, before putting it on. It hung loose on me, obviously oversized.
His sweatpants were far too big, but I rolled the waistband until they stayed up.
Standing there in his clothes, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For a moment, I looked like someone who belonged here.
I shook off the thought, forcing myself to focus on the present.
When I walked into the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs hit me first, followed by the rich aroma of steak. I noticed that there were two steaks for him as I approached the counter. Of course he could probably live off meat alone if he had to, considering he had so much of it in his diet.
“Have a seat,” he said without turning around.
I hesitated, watching him for a moment longer before sliding into one of the stools at the island. Cormac glanced over his shoulder, his eyes briefly scanning me in his clothes. His lips twitched—something between a smirk and a smile—before he turned back to the food.
I clasped my hands in my lap, staring at nothing in particular. I had questions on the tip of my tongue, itching to come out. After a moment, I couldn’t hold them back anymore.
“What are we doing, Cormac?” I blurted. “What are we?”
I saw how his shoulders stiffened slightly at the question, but he relaxed almost immediately before answering. “We can be whatever we want to be,” he said casually.
“Yeah, but what are we?” I pressed, my fingers tightening around each other.
This time, he stopped entirely, setting the spatula he was holding down before slowly turning to face me.
I swallowed hard as I waited for him, and when he didn’t say anything, I figured I should clarify why I was asking the questions.
“I mean…” I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I keep coming over for one reason or another. Spending the night. You cook for me.” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going. “And then there’s… the other stuff.” I added, “The intimacy.”
Cormac’s expression didn’t change, but there was something careful about the way he studied me. “Does it bother you?” he asked finally in a low voice.
I shook my head immediately, my heart skipping at the question. “No. It’s not that. I just…” I looked down, drawing a deep breath. “I just want to know where we stand.”
His silence was heavy and when I finally glanced up, his eyes softened just a bit, though his face remained unreadable.
I cleared my throat.. “Has your rut passed?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation, though it wasn’t much of a diversion. “I mean… we’ve never actually gone all the way, so…”
Cormac leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “We might not need to go all the way,” he said casually.
I blinked, confusion knotting my brows. “What does that mean?”
“It means our frequent… sessions have been keeping my wolf calm,” he answered calmly.
My mouth parted slightly, heat creeping up my neck. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, or how to process the fact that we didn’t have to be fully intimate for him to cope with his ‘situation.’
“That’s… good?” I said finally, though it came out more like a question.
His gaze softened, and he pushed off the counter, turning back to the stove. “Eat first,” he said, picking up the spatula again. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
I stared at Cormac , wondering if I should ask my next question. “You… you want us to keep doing this?” I asked, my voice shaky.
Cormac simply nodded.
“But what the hell does ‘this’ even mean?” I demanded. “What exactly would we be doing?”
He looked over at me, “We could keep it simple,” he said, his tone maddeningly casual. “A with-benefits arrangement.”
“A with-benefits arrangement?” I repeated, lifting an eyebrow.
“Friends with benefits,” he clarified, returning to the stove to plate the rest of the food.
I let out a humorless laugh. “We’re not friends, Cormac.”
He turned, smirking, as if he’d been waiting for me to say that. “Enemies with benefits, then.”
I whispered, “We’re not enemies.”
At least not anymore.
Cormac let out a sigh, before adding. “Look,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, almost gentle. “You know I won’t force you into anything you don’t want to do. I never will. But for now…” He motioned toward the table. “Let’s just eat breakfast.”
The food was already on the table by the time he finished speaking, and the smell alone was enough to remind me of how hungry I was. I let out a frustrated breath but sat down, reluctantly picking at the food.
The conversation was far from over in my mind, but Cormac ate like nothing had happened, calm and content as ever.
We finished the meal in relative silence, and as Cormac gathered the plates, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “So,” I said, leaning back in my chair, watching him as he rinsed the dishes, “how exactly would this ‘enemies with benefits’ thing even work?”
Cormac didn’t answer right away. He put the plates in the sink, wiped his hands on a towel, and turned toward me. Then, without a word, he crossed the kitchen in three long strides and stood before me, his towering presence making my breath hitch.
“What are you—” I started, but before I could finish, his hands were at my waist. He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the cool countertop.
“Like this,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. His lips found mine before I could form another thought, the kiss silencing the questions on my tongue.
He quickly made me forget everything else.
Just. Like. That.