Bronx’s POV “Kas, Baby, are you sure there's nothing I can say to talk you out of this? I really feel like you need more time before we try this again.” I block the door to our apartment with my hands raised helplessly. She’s still upset from Sunday, which is very out of character for her. She is usually pretty forgiving and wants to talk through things as soon as she is feeling less troubled, but she has kept the bedroom door locked all night for the past several nights and this morning, didn’t come out until she was completely dressed and ready to go. I know it’s a useless plea, but I have to at least try to stop my mate from getting hurt again. “Yes, I’m sure, Bronx. Lex and I are ready this time,” Kas says defiantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “Now let’s go, we’re going to be late.” Yeah. She’s still mad. I sigh, and rub my hands on my face in frustration before letting them drop heavily and moving out of the way so she can leave. I can tell from her demeanor Lex
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