16 Chapter 16: Hidden Currents
He was quiet for a second. Then his eyes met mine. “Her name’s Delilah. She’s the cousin of… my former fated mate.”
“You don’t treat her like she’s broken. You just meet her where she is and stay. Most
people don’t do that.”
He looked at me for a beat, then gestured to the chair. “Sit.”
I opened my mouth to protest, to say I could call a cab or walk-but his gaze said not to
argue.
Gareth’s eyes flicked up, surprised I brought it back up. “She was,” he said after a
moment.
When he returned, his face was unreadable. “I have to cut the meal short. Something
urgent came up.”
“Oh. Of course,” I said, sitting straighter. “I was pretty much done anyway.”
I tried not to think about the woman who had just left the restaurant. Her hair was perfect, thick blonde curls bouncing down her back. Even with anger on her face, she looked graceful and polished. She had the kind of body people paid to get. The kind that
turned heads.
I didn’t look at her, but I saw the middle finger she flashed at me as she stormed out in her clacking heels. The doors swung behind her with a dramatic bang.
I picked at the edge of my plate, suddenly not so hungry.
“Let her,” he muttered.
I tilted my head, watching him. “So who is she, really?”
“Unbelievable,” she hissed. “You’ll regret this.”
“She was just a child when it happened,” he said. “Too young to really remember her mother. But somehow, she felt the loss more than anyone else. After she passed, Michelle’s attitude slowly worsened. At first it was just general moodiness, and she
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seemed to be getting better with time. But then Isabella got engaged, and Michelle began throwing tantrums and threatening every tutor I hired for her.”
I swirled the wine in my glass and glanced at him. “She must’ve been really beautiful,” I said gently. “Your mate.”
“But she’s not like that with you,” Gareth added quietly, his gaze meeting mine.
I raised an eyebrow. “So… what was that exactly?”
Something fluttered in my chest again-uncertain, soft, but very real.
“No,” he said dryly. “It’s a one-time performance.”
We sat there for a while, just letting the quiet settle between us. The kind of silence that didn’t demand anything, just… lingered.
So I didn’t.
I swallowed, remembering the tantrums, the snappy comments, the little walls Michelle
kept trying to build. It made sense now.
He gave a small nod, but before either of us could say anything else, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“You’re not eating,” he said finally, pulling me from my thoughts.
The ride was quiet. Lawson was polite, said nothing the entire way except a soft “Goodnight, Miss Lowett,” when he dropped me off. I thanked him and stepped out into
the cool night air.
My throat tightened, but I offered him a small smile. “Maybe she just needed someone
who wasn’t trying to fix her.”
But everything froze the second I opened the door.
“Ah,” I said, not sure how I felt about being used. “And now she thinks I’m your new
woman.”
Gareth slowly pulled away. My neck was still tingling from the contact.
And across from her… was Elliot.
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Of course, Gareth had been with someone like her.
A soft ache filled my chest. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”
My heart still hadn’t settled, and I wasn’t sure if it was from what just happened… or from what it might’ve meant.
His lips curved faintly. “I’ll consider it.”
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, “next time you want to chase someone off,
maybe just say you’ve got a stalker girlfriend.”
“My mate passed away years ago.” His voice dropped a little. “But she looks a lot like her.
So much so that my mother, who’s still holding out hope I’ll settle down again, keeps
pushing the idea of me giving her a chance.”
“And you’re not interested.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked coldly.
He stood and stepped away, answering in that low, clipped tone he used when he was all
business.
“No,” he said firmly. “Not in the slightest.”
I heard the lady make a sound-something like a choked breath or a curse-before she let
out a bitter laugh.
“Oh yeah, no. I was. I just… the steak was amazing, thank you,” I added quickly.
“She had this quiet way of lighting up a room without even trying. I didn’t have her for
long, but…” He trailed off, his voice lower now. “It was enough to know I’d miss her for the
rest of my life.”
Gareth sighed. “I needed her to back off. And she doesn’t take no easily. That scene was
the fastest way to end it.”
I shook the thought out of my head.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he gestured to one of the men waiting
by the entrance. “Lawson will take you home.”
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I hated how aware I was of him now. Every move he made. Every time his gaze lingered. I hated how I still felt his hands around me from earlier. The nip on my neck burned in my memory. I pressed my lips together, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
His lips twitched faintly. “Maybe.”
I sat, trying to pretend like my face wasn’t burning.
My breath caught in my throat. I could feel the heat from his body, from his mouth, from everywhere. His arms tightened around me.
Our hands were resting on the table, barely an inch apart. His fingers brushed against mine-barely, like it might’ve been a mistake. But it lingered just long enough for me to feel the warmth. Then it was gone.
I gave a half-laugh, still trying to calm my racing heart. “Is that your usual way of handling things? Public neck bites?”
This wasn’t a date. I had to remember that.
I nodded, unsure what to say. That was… a lot. It explained the tension, the nip, and the way his voice had turned cold when she clung to him. But it also made something ache in
my chest that I didn’t want to think too hard about.
I walked up the steps, still thinking about the evening. My thoughts were all tangled—
Gareth’s warmth, the curve of his smile when he wasn’t being gruff, that ridiculous
tension that built between us and refused to go away. I wasn’t sure how to feel.
Flattered? Flustered? Or just foolish?
Gareth didn’t say much after that. He just glanced at me occasionally, brows slightly
furrowed, like he was trying to figure something out.
I blinked. “Oh.”
And if she looked like his fated mate… well, it made sense. My stomach twisted.
Because the way he held me… the way his eyes locked on mine…
“Sorry. I have to take this.”
The porch light was on.
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My mother was sitting on the couch.
I blinked. “Michelle?”
“It still is,” he admitted. “Especially for Michelle.”
She was older, sure. But I still felt like a high school girl in comparison.
My stomach dropped.
“I’m sorry for that,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t deserve to be dragged into that
mess.”
17 Chapter 17: Not Yours Anymore
