Change For Me (Werewolf Romance) (The Alpha's Kiss) (4 page)

By the time I took a breath, it was a deep one, and let it out real slow.

“You done?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?”

Another smile, that son of a bitch, always ready with another smile. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to need CPR.”

“Great, Damon. Real great. Ha-ha, you’re just about as funny as a knot in my toast.”

He cocked his eyebrow.

“Anyway,” he mercifully said, “yeah, about what happened. It’s a long story, and not one I’m really sure I can tell you. It’s a little unbelievable.” Damon opened his mouth to say something else, but reconsidered.

The red on his jeans caught my attention again when a drop fell from the cotton strands and hit the tile. “Oh we need to get you cleaned up. Stay there,” I said, running off to the bathroom.

Moments – and just enough hissing and wincing to make up for his poking fun at me – later, his hand was back on my shoulder, right where it was before. He gave me a little squeeze, just a tease of a massage, right where my neck turned into my shoulder.

“Why did you come here?” I said, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer for a moment, just left his hand there, squeezing gently. “I had to,” he finally said. “Had to see you again. I can’t explain it exactly, but something
made
me come here, to you. I woke up this morning and, well, you can see what sort of state I was in.”

“Did you have a wreck or get drunk or something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I almost wish it was.” Damon was clearly worried, and also clearly not telling the whole truth. It was like he was protecting me from something.

I didn’t
want
to be protected. I wanted to do whatever he needed me to do.

“I don’t know why I’m saying this, because it’s totally not like me at all.” I took a much bigger sip of coffee than I intended to take, and swallowed it with a gulp. “Whatever you need, you tell me, okay?”

“I will, I promise.” He pinched his fingers on the bare skin of my neck. “Right now though, I just needed to see you. I can’t explain it, I really can’t. Is that okay?”

What aren’t you telling me?

“Yeah, of course,” I said softly, tilting my head so he could massage deeper. I put my hands on his knees and looked up. “I think you’re all cleaned up. Cut was... it looked worse than it... that feels
really
good.” My hair fell over my shoulder. He brushed it away and kneaded his fingers deeper, then started on the other side. “I’ve really missed this.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, I imagine so.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” I protested, but I wasn’t stopping him. Back and forth I rolled my head, until I finally let it fall forward.

Damon dug deeper, his thumbs tracking along my shoulders, dipping down just below my sheet-toga. They slid up my backbone then spread out along the bottom of my skull. It was one of those massages where all the nerves along my whole back, even way far away from where he was touching me, flared up and tingled.

“God,” I groaned in a drawn-out way. “I needed this more than I knew. It’s like as soon as you started with that, cricks I didn’t even know I had started going away.” Every word I said probably came out all muffled and funny with my chin sitting on my chest.

The soft sound of his fingers sliding against my skin, rasping gently over the hair on the back of my head, was all I could focus on. All I
wanted
to focus on. At least until he suddenly stopped.

Bending over and kissing the top of my head, Damon said, “I gotta go.”

“You haven’t done that since like three months before we broke up.” I was blushing furiously, and so relaxed that it took a concerted effort to lift my head up enough to look at his deep green eyes. “Wait, did you just say you have to go? Why?”

“Because...” Somehow, even with his clothes all torn up and his leg bleeding again, his short, wavy, brown hair fell right back where it was. Once again he opened his mouth and closed it right away.

“Come on, Damon,” I urged. “You’ve got me nervous with all this double-talk and avoiding questions. What kind of stupid tease is this?”

He stood up and helped me to my feet. “It’s not a tease,” he said. “I’m sorry. I really am, but... I just can’t... I gotta go.”

Quickly he moved to the door and put his hand on the knob. “Lily?”

“Yeah?”

He turned and was back next to me
much
faster than he should have been. Before I knew it, Damon’s arms were around my waist and he pulled me close, pressing his lips against mine and kissing me so deep and sweet that it took the breath right out of my chest.

Clutching me, holding me tight, he kissed me over and over, his tongue parting my lips and exploring my mouth, then swirling against my tongue before he pulled away. When he did, we were both breathing hard. Damon’s heart pounded so hard in his chest that
I
could feel it, and those thick, strong arms held me right against him.

Right where I’ve always wanted to be... apparently?

“Why...” I swallowed. “That’s the first time you’re the one who started the kissing.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lily, you don’t deserve this. You really, really don’t. I can’t say anything else. I shouldn’t have come here, but I just couldn’t stop myself.”

Damon’s head slumped forward and I put my hands to his cheeks, pushing it up and looking him in the eye. “Don’t apologize for coming here,” I said as stern as I could manage. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about you, too.”

He had a look of such passion, such power and gratefulness in those green eyes that it almost made me cry.
Almost
.

“Thank you for... for the coffee, and the Spongebob band-aid.”  He had to laugh, and I went along with him. His breath caressing my neck where his hands had been, his kiss still sweet on my lips, I craned my head up toward him and tasted him one last time.

“Are you sure?” I asked as he pushed me to arms’ length. “You’re sure you can’t tell me anything?”

“Y – yeah,” he said, and separated from me.

Suddenly, something snapped. “Then you know what? Get out. Get out right now.” My voice was a low growl that I barely even recognized.

“What?”

“You heard me. You come here and act all fucking lovey-dovey with me, like you
knew
I wanted a year ago, and then what, you’re just gone? You can’t tell me why, you get to act all mysterious? Huh?”

I shoved him. I’ve never shoved anyone in my life, but I put my hands on Damon King’s chest and pushed him toward the door.

“No, no, Lily that’s not it,” he protested, but kept backing toward the sliding door as I shoved him, popping my hands against his chest harder and harder. “Really, I, I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, I’m
sure
you didn’t. I’m real sure you didn’t mean to do whatever it is you did. I’m
real sure
you didn’t just show up and rub me and get some long-overdue kisses and you totally didn’t expect it to hurt me! What a surprise! What a dumb, idiot thing to think, that your ex-girlfriend, who only dumped you because you wouldn’t make any moves on her, would be hurt when you finally did.”

He opened the door, still backing away slowly. “All I can say, Lily, is that I never meant to hurt you. I really didn’t. I hate this more than you can know. But I can’t drag you into this. Seeing you made me realize that I couldn’t.”

Damon started to shut the door, slowly sliding it closed. I finished it for him, a lot harder than I probably needed to, but it felt good. “Get out.” I clenched my teeth so hard it hurt.

I guess all that stuff about never knowing which version of Lily you’re going to get is true.

It rolled around in my head, all the stuff people said about me at school for so many years. That I was two people in one body. Well guess what? They didn’t understand. They didn’t get what it was like to have two dead parents and live in a town you hated with your grandpa who you loved more than anything in the world.

Not my friends, not the assholes who made fun of me for having hair that ranged in color from bright blue to black and purple. They didn’t get it.

I sat down, hard, back on the couch where my sweat reminded me of the dream I’d had right before Damon showed up. Damon, king of the assholes, king of the people who hurt me without even thinking about it, broke my heart for the second time.

“Leroy?” Grandpa Joe called from the living room. I hadn’t even heard the door close. “You awake?”

He came into the room and beheld me in all my sweaty, mussed up glory, just as I was sniffling. I had something in my eye.

“Wh – what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, grandpa,” I said. “Thanks for the coffee. I saw Damon.”

“You did? When?”

I shrugged, trying to act like I didn’t care. Because that works so well when your cheeks are puffy red and your eyes are bloodshot. That look just says ‘cool’. “He just left, came by all messed up, looking really tired and like he got in a wreck or a...” I trailed off.

A fight? No, that’s ridiculous. Damon’s never fought anyone before, not since he moved here anyway. Devin, sure, he’d fight anything that moved, but Damon’s different.

“He did? I didn’t see him.” Grandpa sat down and put a wrapped up bacon and egg sandwich from the deli down on the table. “All I heard was the door slam, no car or anything. And I sure didn’t see him.”

“You must’ve just missed him then, because... wait, did you say you heard the door slam?” I opened my sandwich and stared at it. Even in my rage, the thing was glorious. Thick, perfectly scrambled egg, crisp bacon.

Grandpa nodded. “Yeah, door slam, then nothing.”

I sat there in silence for a moment, wondering if maybe I’d imagined the whole thing. I thought maybe it was one of those ultra-real hallucinations people have. I looked over at the kitchen. “He was drinking that coffee over there, so unless I poured them both, drank them both, and
then
slammed the door, I’m not imagining it.”

“Huh,” he grunted as he stood up and slapped his knees. “Well, I’m old, I’m sure I just didn’t notice him. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. Eat that thing before it gets cold and the fake cheese stuff they put on it you seem to like so much turns into jelly.”

I didn’t have to hear him a second time. The first wedge of sandwich was halfway in my mouth. I sank my teeth in, thick, buttery toast, and the sharp bite of whatever it was they called garlic-cheese at the deli.

Perfect.

“You’re sure he was here?” Grandpa was shaking his head, hands on his hips. “Hmm.”

“Yeah,” I said around a mouthful of egg. “Whatever though, fu – forget him.”

I blushed, and grandpa chuckled. His eyes though, the pinched look on his face, it told a different story. A worried one, though I didn’t know what it was about.

“Something wrong?” I said, crunching down on some bacon.

Grandpa smiled with the left corner of his mouth, but his down-turned eyes told a much less happy story. “No, I was just thinking back. Old man reminiscing about long-gone times. Anyway, you enjoy that sandwich. I’ll be out back.”

I barely even heard him say ‘out back’ before I took another bite.

I don’t care. I don’t need him, don’t even want him.

I took another bite with lots of egg.

And if I keep thinking this stuff, eventually it might even be true.

––––––––

“W
ho is this?” A tiny, almost inaudible voice tittered through my phone. The person on the other end said something about an article, but it took a minute to register.

It was almost a week since that weird visit from Damon, but I was still feeling kinda wonky about reality.

Everything had been so stupid crazy that I’d completely forgotten about the pitch I sent to the
New York Times
three months before. I sent them this long, rambling abstract about a story idea based on all the whacky stuff my grandpa tells me all the time – about the werewolves, and the ghosts or whatever they are that wander Fort Branch in the darkest hours of the night. Real spooky stories some of them, but it’s all based on old folk tales, ancient magic, the kind of thing that really gets ahold of you and won’t let go.

“I’m sorry. Did you say you’re from the
Times
?”

“Yes, ma’am, this is Lily Kyle, right? You sent a story abstract?”

My breath hitched in my chest. “Ohmygod let me go outside. Reception is terrible in the house.”

The door slapped closed and I noticed that grandpa was gone again unannounced. Weird.

“Okay, sorry, I live in this really old house out in the desert, and I dunno, I guess the cell signal gets so used to not being interrupted by anything that it can’t even get through regular old walls. That’s how it works, right? Kind of like working out, you know, how it never has to try to do anything so it never... Jesus. I’m nervous,” I admitted. “When I get nervous, I blabber.”

The person on the other end of the line laughed in a non-mocking, warm way. “It’s fine. I’d rather have you ramble at me for a minute rather than just hang up like most people do when they get worked up.”

“Really? People just straight hang up on you?” I giggled nervously, coming out of my shock a little.

“Yeah, more than you’d expect. Anyway, so, Miss Kyle, I’m—”

“Just Lily,” I said. “No one’s ever called me ‘miss’ anything before.”

“All right, good. So, Lily, you sent us this,” she paused for a second, and I heard papers rumpling. “You sent a story idea about some incredible, unbelievable things. Monsters and ghosts and magic and all that, and I have to tell you, we get this stuff all the time, but something about your submission caught my attention.”

Whoever this woman was, she had a crystal clear voice with practiced enunciation. She wasn’t the type to start throwing around ‘ain’t’, or to call the capitol ‘Warshington’. Then it struck me – I didn’t actually know who she was. “Ma’am? What’s your name?” I said.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I always forget that part. Jolie Evers, I’m the assistant editor in charge of cultural interest stories here at the
Times
.”