Page 11 of Bite Back

DELILAH

I drag myself up the stairs to Sarah’s apartment, high heels slung over my shoulders after hours of dancing.

Strappy shoes and fourth story walk-ups don’t mix.

It’s nearly two in the morning, so I tiptoe towards the door, gently easing the key into the lock so I don’t wake up Sarah. Her shift would have ended an hour ago.

But instead of the darkness I expect to greet me as I open the door, blue light washes over me, lit from the screen of the TV in the corner.

Sarah’s sprawled on the couch, and Kirby lounges on the recliner next to her, translucent form almost fluorescent in the blue lighting. I feel like I’m intruding, interrupting their night. Their friendship.

Sarah’s gaze sweeps over me, from my mussed up hair to my now grimy toes. A flush heats my cheeks, shame pooling hot and warm inside me.

Her brow furrows.

“I’m sorry.” The words fall from my lips like water from a faucet.

Sorry for imposing. Sorry for coming home a wreck.

Sorry for everything. Sarah and I aren’t new friends, not really.

But the time we spent apart makes me hesitant, uncertain of our footing.

Our friendship might not be new, but this version, this stage of it is.

Sarah’s green eyes meet mine, a retort packed into the single arched brow. My shoulders relax. I’m wanted here.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head, tangled hair brushing across my bare shoulders. I repeat what I texted earlier. “I have better things to do.”

“Like movie night!” Kirby interjects.

“Do you want to watch? We can always move the TV into my bedroom if you just want to sleep.”

I glance over at the couch. The idea of sinking into the soft cushions and into oblivion does appeal to me. But that will also mean being left alone in the dark with my thoughts.

I look between Kirby and Sarah. They’ve been so welcoming. Reconnecting with Sarah, meeting Kirby, I felt like we clicked. Like the awful things that happened to us bound us together somehow. I felt...seen, understood.

It’s better to face the darkness together than to face it alone.

A smile breaks across my face as I turn towards Sarah and Kirby. “So, what are we watching?”

Twenty minutes later, I’m freshly showered and bundled up in sweatpants as we curl up on the couch.

The movie’s an arthouse film about werewolf alphas from rival packs falling in love.

The screen flickers ominously as the camera pans across the chiseled face of the love interest before lingering on the other lead’s pouty lips and flowing locks.

A soft sigh escapes Sarah.

I don’t blame her. “Truly, the definition of bisexual panic.”

Sarah nods in enthusiastic agreement. On screen, the alpha’s eyes flash darkly as he eyes his rival, a dramatic furrow wrinkling his craggy brow. Kirby giggles. “So melodramatic.” But a minute later, Kirby bites her lip as the other alpha tosses her hair over her shoulder.

Sarah wags a finger at Kirby. “See? You do appreciate my movie choice.”

The alpha paints red lipstick across her lips, smirking sensuously and winking at the camera. “Oh, I do,” Kirby drawls out.

That sparks a fit of giggles from Sarah that catches on, leaving me clutching my side. The laughter melts away the insecurities I felt earlier. I do belong here.

As the movie continues, Sarah’s eyes drift closed and her head bobs, coming to rest on my shoulder.

There’s something oddly comforting about it, the casual community of it all.

My own eyes grow heavy, and the pull of sleep calls to me, blanketing me in its warm embrace.

A thought hits me as I drift off: Maybe forever won’t be so lonely after all.