Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 50 Ava: The Grey Girl

"Good morning," Clayton says with a smile, and I step back to let him into the apartment. He pauses for just a moment when he sees Selene, and I wait for the questions—but he doesn't ask any.

He's polite like that.

Honestly, outside of my paranoia and not wanting to rely on him, he seems like a pretty great guy.

Clayton strides into the kitchen like he owns it—which, I mean, he does—while I stand around feeling awkward and out of place in this fancy apartment. He seems so at home here, like he belongs.

"Everything okay with the phone?" he calls out from the kitchen. "You didn't text me this morning."

"Oh, uh, no issues," I reply, glancing down at the sleek new device on the end table. "I just woke up a little while ago and haven't set it up yet."

There's a brief pause, and then the sound of a pot clattering onto the stove. "Have you eaten?"

I shake my head, even though he can't see me. "No, not yet."

"Well, go relax then. I'll whip up some breakfast."

Before I can protest, he emerges from the kitchen, those intense green eyes fixing me with a look that brooks no argument. Grasping my shoulders, he turns me towards the plush couch and gives me a gentle nudge in that direction.

"Go on, I've got this."

I open my mouth to argue, but one glance at his resolute expression has me snapping it shut again. Instead, I just nod and make my way over to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh.

Selene, ever my loyal companion, leans against me as she focuses on her show, resting her head on my lap. I absently run my fingers through her soft fur, trying to ignore the sounds of Clayton puttering around in the kitchen.

to being the one doing all the work,

for a change. To be taken care of, instead of being the one doing all the taking care.

alpha who

too used to having Clayton around. This isn't permanent, no matter how much he might want it

has my ears perking up—Selene's, too—and the

him take care of me for just a

to get a little comfortable, right? Since I can't

* * *

Clayton is

to touch me. No more kisses on the forehead. He's just there, polite

to approve, because she's zoned into her show instead of watching his every move. Of course, she doesn't have anything against Clayton in the first place. She doesn't

not like the snide remarks she throws in about Lucas every time

about him, I focus on my cup of creamer with a splash of coffee, adding another spoon of sugar. I can see Clayton

lot

to the couch to enjoy myself just as his phone rings. I try to settle into my role as a couch potato, but my ears can't help

sickeningly sweet confection is pure comfort, and I sip at it, letting the sugary taste linger on my tongue as I try to ignore the snippets of Clayton's conversation filtering through my ears. His deep, rumbling voice is hard to tune out, even with the mindless chatter of

with Blackwood

my spine, and I clutch my mug a little tighter, the

his demands,

implications of

Is a

be at the

my fingers, and I barely manage to catch it before the scalding liquid spills all over my lap. My