'Maybe,' I said, teasing. His knuckles rested on my cheek and I had to admit, it felt really nice. The scent of him so close combined with the sweet tea felt like home. I saw Liam swallow hard, as his gaze searched mine. I thought he might kiss me, but instead he asked, 'All of this isn't making you run away?'
'Can't. Bad ankle.'
The grin on Liam's face grew.
'What?' I asked, feigning innocence. He shook his head, but didn't answer. His hand still lingered on my jaw and I heard the rush of my pulse in my ears.
'So did your brother change?' I asked, trying to say focused on the conversation. It seemed strange that I never met him, if he had.
The tips of Liam's fingers turned cold on my skin and he slowly retracted them back into his lap. 'He did.' Liam fidgeted and quickly got up.
The sudden absence of his touch and mood change left me feeling empty and exposed. Part of me knew I shouldn't ask, but I did. 'Where is he now?'
'Dead.'
The answer came too quick. He wouldn't look at me.
'I'm sorry.'
'Don't be.'
He scooped the mug up from the table and brought it back into the kitchen. I heard the liquid pour into the sink, along with the clang of the ceramic mug. I felt terrible. I didn't know what to say.
'Maybe I should go,' I said, pushing myself up into a full sitting position. Walking would still hurt, but I'd live. 'My dad will be home soon and he'll be wondering where I am.'
'No. Please don't.' He rounded the couch and sat back down on the coffee table. His legs opened to each side of mine and he took my hands. 'I just don't want to talk about my brother.' His expression seemed sad, lost. 'I don't want you to leave.'
'Why do you care so much about me? Is it my scar?'
His fingers squeezed mine. 'I didn't know about your scar when I first met you. I liked you then.'
A feeling of defensiveness came over me out of nowhere and I didn't know why. 'Cause if you think just because a wolf bit me I'm going to go all canine on you, I'll save you the trouble now. I'm not. It happened eleven years ago. Nothing. So if all I am is some pet project of yours, you might as well forget it. I'm human and always will be.'
Maybe I really should have left.
Liam's lower lip caught mine and all the air vanished from my lungs. I couldn't even remember what I just said, and when he pulled back, I realized I had closed my eyes.
His chest rumbled a few inches from mine. I could tell he struggled to remain in human form. I didn't move.
'Maybe you shouldn't kiss me,' I whispered.
'I'd rather die.'
My chest swelled and every wall in me crumbled. Fingers found my hair and I reciprocated, threading mine up around his ears. I pulled him close. Something stirred in me, under the skin, but I ignored it, pressing into the kiss. Nothing else existed.
The front door banged open, ruining my thought. The clamber of boots and squeaky sneakers entered the front hall.
'What the?' Liam broke the kiss with a groan. 'I told you guys I was busy. That means - I'm busy.'
Steve, a little pale, and slightly out of breath, leaned over, resting his hands on his knees. 'The tracks. Woods. Outside.'
'I told you, I saw the wolf,' Liam said, his tone annoyed. 'It's nothing, just a stray. Seriously you guys,' he motioned to me, 'come on.'
'No,' Byron said from the foyer behind Steve. He entered the living room and clapped Steve across the shoulder. 'Smooth explanation, dude.'
'You didn't chase that guy for five miles.' Steve panted. 'I did. Man, whoever it is, he's fast.'
'And stupid,' Flynt said, leaning against the door jam. 'If he thinks he's messing with us.'
'Woah, wait,' Liam said. 'What are you guys talking about?'
'The wolf tracks by the river are human,' Byron said.
'What?'
Flynt nodded to Liam. 'It's true. The wolf tracks run up through the back of the woods. We followed them. They circle up, leading here, to the house. When they get to the outskirts of the yard, the tracks turn human. I saw it myself. It couldn't have been the same wolf you saw.'
'Someone's watching us,' Byron said.
'Another werewolf,' I said with a gasp. My hand clapped over my mouth, but not fast enough. The guys looked horrified.
'She knows,' Liam said.
I didn't dare read their expressions, hiding my face in my hands.
'Cool,' Steve said.
I forced a little smile, letting my arms drop to my lap. Byron grinned, Flynt and Eldridge appeared concerned.
'Did she...?' Eldridge asked.
'No,' Liam said.
'Did I what?' Then it hit me. They think I turned into a wolf. My stomach turned. 'Can I use your bathroom?' I needed a moment to breathe. Frankly I was surprised I was taking this as well as I was. I shifted myself onto my ankle, and I stood up. It hurt.
Byron pointed down the hall.
'You okay?' Liam asked.
'Peachy.' I forced a smile.
I wondered if I looked as green as I felt. Limping in the most nondramatic way possible under the circumstances, I searched for the bathroom. Several doors aligned the left side of the hall, but one of them on the right had been left open. Not wanting to pry where I shouldn't be, I went there first. I found the switch on the wall and watched as one bulb in a group of three flickered in protest. It illuminated the room in a dull glow. A round marble sink, decorated with cracks and the weather of age, sat along a wall that was crumbling with dusty paint chips.
Not the Garden of Eden, but at least I found the bathroom.
I turned the rusty faucet on, and splashed the cool water on my face, trying to let everything sink in. Werewolves existed and now according to Byron and Steve, something strange was going on. My own creepy feeling of being followed swept over me, and I couldn't help but wonder if my presence had something to do with the tracks. Paranoia began to settle in. I knew it. But if there really were werewolves, was it that absurd to think that wolves had been following me all of my life? What if they were waiting for me to turn into a wolf?
The thought scared me.
Cupping some more water, I doused my cheeks again, and forced myself to regain composure. I needed to put things into perspective. I could deal with all of this. One thing at a time.
A faint brush of cool air tickled my hair from across the hall, catching my attention. A door stood, slightly ajar. For some reason, my curiosity spiked. I turned off the water, emerging from the bathroom, and slipped across the way.
The contrast from the hall lighting to the darkened room made me blink. The breeze came from an open window on the far side of the room. It appeared to be a study of sorts. Bookshelves aligned the adjacent walls from where I stood and a large antique, burgundy colored desk faced the view outside. Aside from the smooth wisp of air circulating, the place cast an odor of moldy paper and age.
Several pages of an album fluttered up from the desk, catching my attention, and I started over. The floorboards creaked under my feet, causing me to pause in hopes that no one heard. When I didn't hear anything, I continued over and flipped the large leather book open.
My stomach fell.
