“It’s nice to meet you both,” Delilah may have spoken to them both, but her eyes stayed trained on Jarren. I could only imagine how that would turn out, but luckily it wasn’t a concern. He was completely ignoring Delilah. She glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head at her, Jarren was not a good idea.
“What do you need Alex?” I may have been a little harsh, but the quicker we got this finished the quicker I could move on. His eyes flicked to Delilah and then back to me. Oh yeah, werewolves are a secret. “We can talk in my room, if Jarren and Delilah don’t mind keeping each other company.” I pointed down the hall, and he gave me a quick nod before he turned to speak quietly to Jarren. Delilah took that as her opportunity to get answers and jabbed me hard in the ribs with her elbow.
“What the hell is going on Zee?” she hissed, “These guys don’t seem like they’re here for a date. That Jarren guy looks ready to kick your ass. What happened?” I just shook my head again and rubbed at my tender ribs. Holy crap, her elbows were like knives. I looked at Alex and I swear his head was cocked in my direction just a bit. It seemed like he was listening for my answer. No way was I going to tell Delilah anything, werewolves did not need to be on her radar at all.
Jarren let out an angry huff, that I’m sure was meant to mask his growl and walked over to sit on the couch stiffly. Good grief, you’d think we were shoving bamboo under his nails for the rigidness in his body and the grimace on his face. Delilah just eyed him incredulously. I really hoped she wouldn’t provoke the already dangerous male. Delilah despised rudeness, and she didn’t really sugarcoat her own rudeness when she let people know. This was sure to go great.
Hoping that for just once Delilah wouldn’t confront someone, I led Alex to my room. Any other time I would have stressed out about the messiness that greeted us when I opened the door. Today was full of enough stress though, so I chose to pretend I couldn’t see him taking it all in with surprise. My laundry was overflowing because I was technically supposed to be spending the afternoon washing clothes. My bed was in shambles, with clean clothes strewn across it from searching out the perfect outfit to go see Alex in. A lot of good that did me. His eyes lingered on the sketch of himself on the cliff that was hanging on my mirror.
“So, what do you need, Alex?” I asked again, anything to get his eyes away from the picture. I never should have hung it up. Now I just looked like a teenage girl tacking up hot guys on the walls. He gazed at me for a moment, almost like he was searching for something. I had no idea what, but he suddenly seemed satisfied with what he saw.
“I’m sorry for how you found out about my pack and me,” his forehead wrinkled a little, and my hands itched to reach out and smooth the troubled look from his face. “I wanted to tell you, and I planned to. I just wasn’t sure when, or even how. I never pictured having this problem in life. I never felt pulled to a human or a werewolf…but that isn’t the point of me coming here.” I waited for him to decide to continue. One part of me was thrilled that I was important to him. Another part, sadly the bigger part at that moment, couldn’t get past the werewolf part.
“I hate to ask this,” he started, “but I need you to not tell anyone what happened today. Our safety depends on our anonymity. If we are found out things won’t end well for us.” He was eyeing me carefully. It seemed hard for him to ask me for anything, but I understood. Oddly, of everything that day, this I got.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I told him easily. It was really a decision I’d made from the moment he told me. “I promise I won’t tell. I may be having trouble with the idea of my new friends and my boyfriend being werewolves, but I won’t tell other people about it.” His face broke into a huge grin, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Boyfriend?” he questioned, his dimples making a very unfair appearance. I hadn’t meant to even say that out loud.
“I don’t know,” I answered, hating the sad look that replaced his dimples. I couldn’t give him false hope when I was so unsure myself. He was avoiding my eyes, instead he was looking around my room again. His eyes lit on items and then moved on at an alarming rate.
“I wanted to see your room,” he spoke quietly, “You know, I wanted to be invited in, we’d make out a little on the couch, you’d lead me to your room. I thought it would be something fun and exciting. Instead your nerves are filling the room and I don’t know what to do to help you. I wish we could go back and start this fucked up day over.” My heart was beating a little fast at his imagined scene. I could see it, too, but things weren’t like that.
“I know what you mean,” I spoke equally as quiet, “but you would still be a werewolf. Eventually you would have to tell me. Now I know, and I can’t tell you how things will go yet. I need a little time to think. I need to think about the future. How does a relationship like this even progress?”
“However, you want it to,” he spoke earnestly, and I really wanted to believe it was that easy. I wanted to believe that I
