Voiceless - M. Sinclair Page 0,37

the fridge and pulled out some pre-diced tomatoes in a plastic container. Adding a jar of sauce and a few other spices, I watched him start to cook on the stove top next to mine. I had a feeling he didn’t cook very often, his movements a bit unpracticed as his voice produced a soft humming noise that had me watching him all the more. The fact that he didn’t cook very often but was cooking for me? Well, I had to admit it made me feel pretty damn special. After a minute or so his large hands lifted me onto the counter as I watched him with interest.

As he finished cooking, the man put two bowls together and handed one to me after I slid off the counter.

“Want to see something?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I was going to wait until morning but since you’re up…”

“Yes,” I nodded eagerly.

“Follow me.” He led me towards a different set of stairs.

I followed, mid bite on my pasta. Spaghetti was never a clean affair for me, especially not today. I had a feeling Dylan didn’t care, instead he was also eating while walking. Our pathway took us into a direction of the house I’d yet to explore.

I promised myself that tomorrow I would have that conversation with them about moving. I could feel the urge to get settled running under my skin, knowing if I didn’t soon it would drive me crazy. I was a bit of a creature of habit. I didn’t want to assume that they wanted me to move in… but if I was going to be staying here every night, would it be a far stretch?

My eyebrows went up as we pushed into a massive room that had mirrors lining the walls with big windows showcasing the forested surroundings. My instant thought, of course, was how perfect it would be for a dance studio.

“We’ve never used this space,” he pointed out as we both sat down against the mirrors. My leg crossed over his as he positioned me comfortably against him, but so that we could still both eat. The man had his priorities lined up quite nicely.

“I was thinking,” he spoke softly, “well, I was hoping, that if you are planning to stay, that you would be interested in turning it into an at home studio--”

“You want me to move in?” I asked quietly, trying to not sound hopeful.

His eyes filled with something as he put down both our pasta bowls and pulled me over to straddle him. “Baby, of course we want you to move in with us, you’re our fucking mate. I mean, I was hesitant to ask you that first night because you didn’t know me… but I can’t go another few days without you sleeping in our bed.”

I smiled, and felt excitement course through me.

He spoke softly in more of a demand, “Move in with us, Colette.”

“How do the others feel about it?” I had to ask because this was obviously a big decision.

“They were the ones that wanted me to bring it up to you,” he pointed out as my lips pressed up into a smile.

I nodded.

“You will move in?” he asked, looking thrilled.

“Well you offered me an at home dance studio, can’t say no to that,” I teased as he chuckled and grabbed our pasta bowls so that we could continue to eat.

As with all the guys, there was a very comfortable ease between us, one that I hadn’t even realized I’d needed in my life. But now that I had it? I never wanted to lose it. Was everything moving too fast? I wanted to say yes but somehow I just felt like this was the perfect pace for us.

This was us. It was that simple.

9

Dylan Graves

“Where are we going?” Colette’s soft, interested voice echoed through my head as I squeezed her hand.

Hunter looked at her through the rearview mirror but didn’t answer her as Luca offered her a teasing look from the passenger seat. This was the first time that she had asked, but I had seen the question brimming on the tip of her tongue all morning after we woke her up and told her we had afternoon plans.

The day was slightly cooler than normal so I had made sure that our mate was wrapped up tightly in a jacket despite her telling me she would be fine. I had almost told her that while she may be fine, I may not be. Especially