Howl (Monster Boyfriends #1)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

JAMIE

T he moment Raegan’s alarm goes off on her phone Saturday morning, she bolts out of bed and rushes to the guest bathroom to take a shower. Her absence from the bed immediately hits me as I roll onto my stomach and moan into her pillow. The smell of her coconut shampoo fills my nostrils, soothing the ache in my chest that has swelled from her absence.

We’ll be getting a new bed frame for her room today, which means last night might have been my last opportunity to share a bed with Raegan Baker. We still have so much to discuss, and having time to think over the whole ‘being mates’ situation, she might very well turn and run in the opposite direction.

I want her to take as long as she needs, but what if Rhett was right about your soul eventually giving up if you ignore the pull for too long? What if, by the time she decides she wants to be together, the fire between us has fizzled out? There are so many layers to the situation now. Last week, all I wanted was for her to move in with me, but what if she eventually changes her mind about that too?

I’ll just have to savor her scent in my sheets for as long as it lingers.

I take my time dragging myself out from under the blanket, giving Raegan plenty of hot water before starting my own shower. After I hear the water cease to run through the pipes, I strip from my boxers and turn the knob in the shower to freezing, because yes, after having Raegan’s ass pressed against my groin all night, my balls are bluer than the walls of this room.

I wash quickly, my body shaking violently from the temperature, and when I’m done, I stand naked on the plush rug staring at my reflection in the fogged up mirror.

How did we get here?

I have to stop this dangerous way of thinking. She’s already made it clear she wants me, but I can’t let that drive my actions. I will give her whatever time she needs, even if she doesn’t want it. Because in the end, I don’t want there to be a single ounce of possibility that she might regret anything between us.

After the incident with Patrick, it felt like something in me snapped. It wasn’t just that I wanted to protect Raegan from someone that would cause her harm, at that moment, I needed to shelter her from the entire world. I needed to pull her into my arms and claim her as mine because, with me by her side, no one would ever think about hurting her. Ever again.

Now I’ve accepted the reality of what happened—that moment with Patrick being the spark that ignited the mate bond between us—I thought that extreme need would fade. I understand it now, the raw, primal desire to claim and protect. Yet the more time passes, the stronger that desire gets. I’m finding that fighting against this bond is an even tougher battle than fighting the shift each month, and that’s saying something.

After getting dressed, I find Raegan in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug. Her dark hair is still wet from the shower, and she hasn’t brushed it out yet. Thick clumps of knotted waves fall to the top of her shoulders and drip water onto her maroon sweatshirt. She’s wearing stretchy black biker shorts, her porcelain legs on display, and I want nothing more than to spread those pretty thighs apart on the kitchen table and have her for breakfast.

Instead, I clear my throat. “What’re your plans this morning?”

She glances up as I enter the room, fresh-faced and makeup free. I love the way she looks without makeup. I love her with it, too. But without the mascara and photoshopped complexion, she’s the girl I’ve known since high school.

The girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.

“I promised I’d help Joanna at the rescue today,” she says, placing a lid on her cup. “I’ll text you when we’re done, and then we can go to the furniture store.”

My heart sinks. I was being completely serious yesterday when I told her she didn’t need a bed. But I guess she still wants her space.

“Okay. Just remember,” I say, making sure my voice is clear of any emotion, “Cleetus likes being an only child.” I nod toward the loaf of fur on the back of the couch. As if agreeing with me, he lifts his head and gives Raegan a slow blink.

Her face turns into that of a doting mother and she rushes to give him a kiss on the forehead. “No siblings today, I promise,” she mews, telling him more than me. “You’re still my number one baby boy.”

I can hear him purring from where I’m standing across the room. He’s a baby alright–a spoiled one.

“How many dogs does she have now ?” I ask, moving to the refrigerator to grab a carton of oatmilk.

As I prepare my own cup of coffee, Raegan continues peppering Cleetus with kisses. She finally stops and turns for the door.

“I think ten?” She says it as if she’s not really sure. “Jo said a family dropped off a pitbull a few days ago. It was ‘too aggressive’ with their newborn,” she says with air quotes.

No doubt the family simply doesn’t want to take the time to train a young dog, or they hadn’t paid attention to the animal’s personality traits when adopting. Some dogs just need to overcome their trauma. Other dogs just need to get out their energy, and I have a feeling a couple with a newborn doesn’t have the time or energy necessary to take care of, essentially, another child.

“Then there were three found abandoned on a farm last week,” Raegan continues. “They were tied up and left outside, so they need extra affection and human interaction.”

“So when you say ‘helping’, what you’re really saying is you’re going to play with a bunch of dogs.” Raegan smiles sheepishly. I move to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Have fun.”

Her smile turns unabashed.

And with that, she’s out the door, leaving me alone with Cleetus. He doesn’t bother glancing my way. He simply tucks his head between his paws and goes back to sleep.