Restless Secrets

19

Riley

I hadn’t meant for Ethan to notice. Hell, I hadn’t meant to do it. The coffee table incident was a slip, plain and simple—a stupid mistake caused by nerves and too much pent-up energy. But when I saw the way he looked at me, eyes wide and full of questions, I knew I’d messed up.

Now, as Ethan sat across from me on the couch, his brows furrowed in that annoyingly determined way, I could feel the tension hanging heavy in the air. My wolf instincts, normally buried deep beneath layers of control, were buzzing—restless, heightened, and far too attuned to him.

When he’d brushed my hand earlier, just the lightest touch, it was like a spark had shot through me. Not the kind of spark you’d get from static electricity—no, this was something deeper. Primal.

And that was the problem.

I couldn’t afford to let my wolf instincts take over, not here, not with him.

“Better left alone,” I’d said. It was true—my secrets weren’t just mine to keep. They were a matter of survival. For me. For my pack. For everyone I cared about.

But Ethan… he was making it damn near impossible to hold the line.

As he leaned back on the couch, his arms crossed and his gaze still pinned on me, I caught the faintest trace of his scent—warm, grounding, with a hint of something sharp, like citrus. My heightened senses locked onto it before I could stop them, and my wolf stirred again, clawing at the edges of my control.

Protect him.

The thought came unbidden, raw and forceful. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt it. Ever since I had moved in next door, there’d been something about him—something that set off instincts I barely understood.

“Riley,” he said, breaking through my thoughts. His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of frustration. “You can’t keep brushing me off. I’m not an idiot. Something’s going on with you, and I want to know what it is.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to meet his gaze. His green eyes were unwavering, searching mine for answers I couldn’t give.

“I already told you, Ethan,” I said, keeping my voice level. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit,” he shot back, sitting up straighter. “You don’t get to decide what I saw. That table was heavy, Riley. I was there. You can’t just expect me to forget about it.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. The urge to defend myself—to deflect, to deny—warred with the deeper, more dangerous urge to tell him the truth.

But I couldn’t.

Not when the truth could ruin everything.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “Just drop it, Ethan.”

He blinked, startled by the edge in my voice. For a second, guilt twisted in my chest. But then he frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Fine,” he said, standing abruptly. “If you don’t want to talk, I won’t force you. But don’t expect me to pretend like nothing happened.”

He turned and started toward the door, and panic surged through me—hot and instinctual.

“Ethan, wait,” I said, standing too quickly. My sudden movement made him pause, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“What?” he asked without turning around.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. The words caught in my throat, tangled up in emotions I didn’t fully understand. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him leave like this.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” I said finally, my voice softer now. “I just… I need you to trust me, okay? Trust that I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Ethan turned then, his expression guarded but curious. “I never thought you were trying to hurt me, Riley. I just don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit me harder than I expected. My wolf instincts surged again, flooding me with the need to pull him closer, to shield him from whatever might hurt him—even if that meant shielding him from me.

“I’m not shutting you out,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Protect me from what?”

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. The truth sat on the tip of my tongue, heavy and dangerous.

Don’t tell him. Don’t drag him into this.

But I couldn’t lie to him either.

“Just… trust me,” I said again, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t press the issue further. Instead, he turned back toward the couch and flopped down with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” he said, waving a hand. “Let’s get back to work. But don’t think for a second that I’m letting this go forever.”

I nodded, relief washing over me like a tide.

---

That night, after Ethan left, I couldn’t sleep.

The silence in the apartment was oppressive, the air thick with the weight of the unspoken words between us. My wolf instincts were restless, pacing the edges of my mind, urging me to fix the tension I’d created. I replayed every moment of our conversation, the look in his eyes when he challenged me, the frustration in his voice when I pushed him away.

And when he left. That hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I found myself reaching for my phone more than once, my thumb hovering over his name. Just text him, a small, reckless part of me whispered. Make sure he’s okay. But every time, I stopped myself.

What would I even say? Sorry I freaked you out by lifting a coffee table? Sorry I’m not normal? Sorry I can’t tell you the truth?

It wasn’t fair to him. And it wasn’t safe.

Still, the thought of him stewing alone, his mind probably running in a thousand directions, made my chest ache. Eventually, I shoved my phone under the pillow and forced myself to

stay in bed, staring at the ceiling until the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds.