Hope(less) (26 page)

He rejoined me, sitting across the table.

I remembered his costume and asked, “Are you going to tell
me about the coveralls or where you got the money for groceries?”

He shrugged in response.

Sighing I pushed my bowl away.  “I know I’m supposed to
start asking you a bunch of questions, but I’m still too tired.  Just don’t be
doing anything illegal, ‘K?  It would be hard to visit you in jail on top of
school.”

Using a battered plastic container, I put the rest of my
dinner in the refrigerator and quickly washed the dishes, despite his silent
protests, while he dried.  Skipping homework, I changed and went straight to
bed.

*    *    *    *

After another night’s sleep, I felt more energetic and
alert.  This time, when I went to class, I noted a continuation of what I’d
experienced at the party.  The people I encountered during the day treated me indifferently. 
I’d grown so used to the pull I had on men that it felt odd when they didn’t
turn to look.

I saw Scott crossing the campus again.  He only waved when
he noticed me and continued on to his destination.  A friendly wave from one
acquaintance to another.  Confused, I made an effort to interact more.  I
smiled at the people I passed.  Eventually, someone did stop me, another
freshman, but he only wanted recommendations for a nice place to take a date.  Why
he stopped me out of all the other people drifting around on the campus
grounds, I had no idea, but it was the most normal random conversation I’d had
in my life and I loved it.

Nicole caught up with me after our basic massage class and
gave me the details of her weekend.  Randy hadn’t forgotten her and called her
on Saturday asking her out on a date Sunday night.  She’d excitedly accepted.

“He was nice and everything, just not the way he normally is
in class.  He seemed a little more intense on the date.  I talked to him before
class today and he seemed a little more like his old self.  We’re going to go
out again tonight.”

Then she told me about her walk across campus this morning. 
She’d turned down no less than eleven date requests and two blunt one-night
stands.  She giggled while she related the details, but the humor didn’t reach
her eyes.  I gave her a few pointers about keeping her physical distance if she
didn’t want someone to bother her and to say no bluntly.  She nodded her
thanks.

I wished her luck and hurried home to tell Clay my
suspicions.  I felt sure that something had happened to make Nicole the magnet
for unwanted male attention in my place.  The shock we’d felt seemed to have
been the turning point.  I wondered how long the affect would last.

*    *    *    *

Rushing through the back door with a smile on my face, I
felt a stab of disappointed at the greeting I received from the dark and empty
kitchen.  Unhappily, I set my bag on the table and dug the leftover soup from
last night out of the fridge.

While I leaned against the counter waiting for it to warm, I
wondered again about his coveralls.  I’d never gotten an answer about them.  He
probably worked somewhere, which would explain the wallet with the GED and the
driver’s license.  But where?  I could drive around and look for him, but I had
no idea where to start looking.

Sighing, I settled at the table to eat and study.  That he
might have a job, didn’t bother me.  That he bailed on what I considered our
dinner night without a note or warning, did.

When he wasn’t home yet by six, I decided to head to the
library to work on my speech.  I needed the reference materials for research. 
Studying at the library without my pull thoroughly increased my efficiency. 
Thanks to the uninterrupted work, I finished my speech by eight and headed
home.

The windows glowed with light and I felt a spark of
excitement wanting to share my unusual experience at the library.  Pulling into
the driveway, I saw Rachel’s car already crowded the garage.  It meant I
couldn’t talk to Clay freely, but I could still manage to whisper to him when
we went to bed.

Inside, Rachel sat on the couch alone, no sign of Clay.  She
claimed to have just arrived home herself and tried talking me into a movie.  She
didn’t mention Clay-the-dog so I told her I felt a little tired and went to bed
early.  I had no explanation for his disappearance and didn’t want her to
worry.  I hoped that she thought he already lay sleeping on my bed.

*    *    *    *

The next morning I woke snuggled up against Clay, who must
have snuck in at some point during the night.  Though Rachel technically turned
on the heat on the first, she kept it low, which made Clay’s extra heat nice.

When the sleep cleared enough from my head, I realized he
laid next to me on his back in… man form.  I held still trying to decide how I
felt about it.  When I’d been sick, he’d done it to help me.  There hadn’t
really been a choice.  I wasn’t sick now.  But he wasn’t being weird about it. 
So should I really make a big deal out of it?  I decided not to.  Although warm
feet felt nice, a warm all of me felt better.

Considerate, he wore a shirt and, though I wasn’t going to
check, I felt sure he’d included shorts.  I shifted my head from against his
side to look up at him.

He lay with both arms behind his head.  His hair again covered
the majority of his face.  I thought he’d gotten over that phase.  He’d worn it
back since Saturday whenever he turned man.

“It’s annoying not being able to see you,” I said in place
of a good morning.  I flipped to my stomach and propped myself up with my
elbows to get a better look at him.  “If you don’t talk, and I can’t see your
face, how am I ever supposed to figure out what you’re thinking?”

I reached out to move some hair out of the way, but he
stopped me in a blurred move, catching my wrist gently in his hand.  He didn’t
let me any closer.  First, he ditches me on dinner night then he won’t let me
touch him?  The thought stopped me.  I really hadn’t touched him before either,
at least not as a man.  Maybe he was like me, a little standoffish.  I could
understand that.

“Seriously, Clay, what kind of bribe is it going to take for
you to get rid of some of that hair?”

He flashed his elongated canines at me again in
explanation.  “Can’t we at least trim it back some?”  Okay maybe a lot, but I
knew to start with baby steps.

He tugged my hand to his chest, laying it flat.  I patiently
allowed it.  With him, everything was guessing or pantomime.  His chest warmed
my palm.  So much for my theory about not wanting to be touched.

Using his free hand, he tapped my mouth.  I frowned,
perplexed.

“What, you want me to be mute like you?” I asked in
disbelief.  Was he hinting I talked too much?

He shook his head and reached out again.  This time, he
cupped my jaw and lightly ran his thumb over my bottom lip.  I couldn’t see his
eyes, but read his intent.

“Whoa!”  I scrambled out of the bed as if it caught fire,
but marginally calmed down when he stayed where I’d left him.

He turned his head to study me as I stood trembling dressed
in a tank top and lounge pants beside the bed.  I nervously rubbed a sweaty
palm, the one that had moments before rested on his chest, against my leg.  His
whiskers twitched down.  I couldn’t recall him frowning at me before.

I almost asked where this idea suddenly came from, but
guessed it a long time coming.  According to the Elders, when an unmated male
finds his female, he begins a courtship of sorts.  The end goal is to Claim his
mate.

But Clay hadn’t courted me.  He just lived here in his fur. 
And sometimes cooked for me…  And sometimes helped me with chores…  And when he
wasn’t around, I felt disappointed and missed him.  My fearful expression
slackened to one of stunned amazement.  He
had
been courting me these
last few months.  Clever dog.

Not comfortable with simple contact to begin with, I
naturally balked.  Then I paused reconsidering my hesitancy.  Yes, I’d held
myself back from everyone.  Contact meant an emotional connection, either for
me, or for the other person.  But Clay didn’t act like the rest.  Not
compulsively drawn to me.

Maybe I needed to stop treating him like the rest.  Hadn’t I
already started doing that?  I’d sat next to him to watch movies, ate dinner
with him and, yes, technically snuggled with him at night.  At least, my feet
did regularly.  And I had to admit, I liked looking at him… the parts I could
see.  Thinking of that caused a blush.  I sent another panicked look his
direction, but he remained motionless.

But he didn’t ask for just a simple kiss.  Our current
relationship placed so many strings on it.  Strings I’d never before had to
deal with.  It definitely took us one step closer to claiming in his book.  As
I thought of it, I realized my stance on claiming had subtlety shifted.  I
wouldn’t mind having Clay around indefinitely.  We meshed well together.  But
there still existed aspects of a werewolf relationship I wasn’t ready for. 
Like biting his neck hard enough to break the skin and establish my Claim.  That
didn’t sound like something nice to do to someone you cared about.

Clay waited patiently for me to think over his request.

The man’s drive to claim his mate increased with each
passing day, building to a compulsive need.  There’d never been a courtship
that lasted more than six months.  Paul and Henry shared that tidbit with me
long ago.

I calculated back and cringed.  We’d just passed six
months.  He hadn’t pressed for anything from me in that entire time.  I’d been
so focused on school that I hadn’t given any thought to the Claiming stuff I’d
learned other than to be glad he wasn’t pressing me.

I edged closer to the bed and touched my bottom lip,
thinking.  Was he struggling to hold back his aggressive side?  Could that be
why his canines were elongated more often than not?  Had I put too much faith
in his control?  But the toughest question was… did I trust Clay?  If I did
give him what he asked for, would it be enough to satisfy him, or would he want
more and then become unbearable to live with?

Glancing up at him, I considered my options, while he
continued to watch me in silence.  I really wanted to see his eyes again.

“I have some questions before we talk about my bribe and
your price.”  I crawled back upon the bed and sat back on my heels once I
reached his side.  “Will you try to answer my questions?”

He continued to watch me without answering.

Undeterred I asked, “Are you able to physically speak?”

After a brief hesitation, he nodded.

“Are you ever planning on talking to me?”

He smiled wide and nodded again.

I nervously noted his teeth were bigger than they’d been a
minute ago.  My stomach did a flip and I could feel the fading blush rekindle
and spread across my face.  “Clay, were you asking for a kiss?”  I had to know
for sure.

He nodded slowly, reaching out he twined his free right hand
with mine.  His thumb soothed the outside of my hand while he waited for me to
decide what to do.

“Clay, I can’t even see your mouth to know where to kiss.  I
hope this bargain includes a shave.”

His whiskers twitched and I guessed he smiled.  He appeared
laidback, completely calm as if my answer didn’t affect him at all.  It
bolstered my courage.

I let go of his hand and leaned forward, bracing myself on
his shoulders.  I could see the glint of his eyes as he watched my slow
descent.  My stomach churned with nerves and anticipation.  Despite my teasing
comment, I found his lips without any problem, lightly touching mine to them. 
His warm breath fanned my face and I shifted to press closer.  Something inside
me melted a little.

Closing my eyes, I reached a hand up to gently brush against
his face, exploring his brow, ear, and jaw.  He changed the kiss by tilting his
head slightly.  His lips began to nibble at mine, slow and easy.  My stomach
dipped and my heart started to flutter with desire.

When I realized how easy it would be to keep kissing him,
desire changed to panic.  I pulled away and then gasped at the sight of the
black eye I’d exposed.

Forgetting desire and panic, I cried, “What happened?”  Then,
thinking of Rachel dropped my voice to a whisper and I said, “I thought
werewolves weren’t supposed to get hurt like this.”

Seeing his eyes again gave me a nice advantage.  I easily read
the frustration in them.  Before he could try something else, I bounded off the
bed again.

“A deal’s a deal.  Go shower and shave.  After you’re done
we can play charades until I have the story behind the black eye.”  The
stubborn look in his eyes had me adding, “That or I call Sam.”

I stayed well back while he ran his hand through his hair in
agitation.  Then he sighed and sat up.  The flex of his abdomen under his snug
shirt dreamily distracted me.  When he swung his feet over the edge of the bed,
turning his back to me, I saw part of his shirt had ridden up exposing more
bruises on his back.

Forgetting to stay away, I rushed around the bed.  He heard
me coming and stayed where he was.  He didn’t fight me when I started tugging
his shirt over his head either.  Numerous bruises covered his torso.

“What happened?”  I demanded again, nudging his right arm away
from his side to stare at a huge ugly purple mark, and lightly ran my fingers
over it.  “This is really scaring me Clay, I thought werewolves were supposed to
be this tough, nearly indestructible, race.”

That single thought had created an unseen benefit for me
when I’d found out Sam’s plan to pair me up with one of their kind.  If I found
a werewolf mate, they would never die on me like my mom or grandma had, leaving
me alone.

“Is this why you were gone last night when I came home?”

He didn’t move at all.

“Fine.”  I turned to leave him, but he caught my wrist
again, tugging me gently to his side.  Watching me, he brought my hand to his
mouth, kissed the back of it and then my knuckles.  I felt a tug in my stomach. 
That stupid, annoying, kinda-growing-on-me-a lot pull which tied us together.  My
annoyance at him evaporated.  Unable to help myself, I brushed my fingers
through his hair liking the feel of it.