Page 7

7

ADAIR

“ W ell, somebody’s in a good mood,” Gigi teases.

“Who, me?” I give her a look of faux innocence. She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out before throwing a dishrag at me. It’s been a slow day, so we’re just horsing around while we clean up.

“Who is he?” she says out of the blue.

“What?”

My startled response makes her giggle. “Who is he, Addy? Come on, your T-shirt might as well say, ‘I’ve got a giant crush.’ Tell meee!” She comes over to where I’m cleaning up the spilled sugar from the condiment station and stands on her tiptoes so she can put her chin on my shoulder.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” I shake my head, hoping I’m not turning red and giving myself away.

Gigi makes a face as she carries the milk carafes to the sink. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s — I’ve just been reading a really good book lately,” I say. Gigi knows I’m a voracious reader, and she’s one of the few people who knows what I like to read.

“Is this more of the biker werewolves? Or — oh wait.” She frowns. “Were they mafia werewolves? I think I lost track.”

“Um, it’s — they’re both.”

Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “How do they manage to find time to go out and howl at the moon and stuff?” she says, which makes me laugh. “But really. Are you sure there’s not something beside a book? Addy, you’re, like, giddy.”

I sigh. “OK, yes. I met somebody last night and I think it was just a hookup, but dang — it was fan-damn-tastic!”

“Aww, but maybe it could be more — right?” Gigi is just as much of a romantic at heart as I am. She’s been with her boyfriend, Dylan, since they were both in middle school, I think.

It definitely could not be more, for a whole slew of reasons I don’t really want to think —or tell Gigi —about. So I just shrug. “You know what, I’m not looking too far into it. It was just fun.”

“OK, that’s fair enough. What’s he like?”

Her question has me completely stumped. I literally don’t know the first thing about Jack. Just that he’s faster than he looks, and the way he smells makes my brain short-circuit. Oh yeah, and there’s the part where he hates me.

Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up after all.

“We’re still kind of getting to know each other. Things just sort of clicked.”

She snickers and I feel myself flush a little. “OK, say no more!” she says brightly. “Well, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

Everything I want it to be. I sigh. I don’t mind Gigi knowing I read romance novels, but I don’t have any illusions that real life works like that. I’m more likely to stumble into a pack of wolf shifters.

But that whole whatever the fuck it was last night almost felt like it could be in the plot of one of my books. The rough chase and capture, the way Jack overpowered me, used me and degraded me… I jerked off again in the shower this morning thinking about it, my legs shaking as I pressed against the wall for support when I came with the same explosive intensity as last night. Lights flashed across my field of vision and a wave of electricity swept through my entire body, leaving me gasping for breath as my release washed down the drain.

I’ve read about shit like that, but never figured I’d experience it. This was like book-sex hot. Well, except the books all end with declarations of love and happily-ever-afters.

Once I push that difference out of my mind, my good mood lasts the rest of the day. It’s only punctured once, when I forget and sit down too hard. Jack’s belt was no joke.

The edgy energy of that encounter has me positively floating through the next couple of days. And when the buzz starts to fade, I decide to take the initiative — like my guidance counselor always used to say I should do.

I seek out my next fix.

I look around carefully as I enter the nature center. It feels weird as fuck being here, even though I was here countless times as a kid on field trips. My heart is in my throat.

As I expected, Jack scowls when he sees me. It looks like he’s the only one in here, which I’m relieved about. At least I don’t have to worry about him berating me in front of other people.

I’m guessing he’s not exactly big on friendly shit like hello or how ya doing , so I take a deep breath and jump right in.

“I want to do that again.”

“You what?” His thick eyebrows shoot up for a beat before dropping lower than they were before. “Do what again?”

“Oh, no — not the — I mean, I’m not going to do anything inappropriate on the picnic table again. I promise,” I say hurriedly.

He glowers at me again for a moment before letting out a dark chuckle that goes straight to my dick. “Oh, you’re not, are you?” I open my mouth to answer when he bursts my bubble with a syllable.

“No.”

“What?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I said no, you dumb bunny. Get the hell out of here.”

“I —” I’m groping for words. “I thought we — I thought you —”

He cuts me off. “You thought wrong.”

I try to keep my face from falling, but I feel like a balloon that’s just deflated. It’s not like I’m asking him to take me to dinner and a movie, for the love of God. I tell him that, just in case he was unclear about my intentions, but his expression just grows darker.

“I told you no ,” he spits out.

I sigh, defeated. “Alright. Geez, you don’t have to be such a —”

“Not tonight.”

“What?” I can’t believe my ears.

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Are we really going to start with this again?”

“No, no — I got it. Um, when?”

“Monday.”

Three days from now. He said it quickly and with enough certainty that I’m dying to know if he had something like this already in his head. If he had me already in his head. But I think I’ve used up his minimal goodwill for the day, so I just nod.

“Same time?” I ask, a little tentatively. I’m bracing for another snide reply, but he just tips his chin down into a slight nod.

“Uh, where? Like, where do you want to meet?”

His eyes are smoldering, burning into me with a stare so intense I feel like I might burst into flames. One side of his mouth lifts up into a crooked smile. “Picnic table.” I nod and turn to go when he says, “Bunny…”

I look back at him. He still has that same dark look on his face. He strokes his beard, his expression one of appraisal. “You have three days to change your mind. I suggest you seriously consider it.”

He’s agreeing to this but doesn’t want it? Doesn’t want me? I’m confused and a little — weirdly — hurt. I shake my head. “I’ll be there.”

He huffs out a sigh and folds his arms across his chest. “I’m not good for you. I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, Bunny.” His eyes bore into me.

I don’t know what to say back to him, until I do. “Adair.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Adair. Addy for short.”

Jack smirks. “Right. Adair Stanton.”

“How —” My mouth drops open for a second until it occurs to me: My parking pass. You have to fill out a form at the beginning of the season with your name and license plate information. My car was the last one left the other day; I guess he jotted down the plate number and looked me up.

So he knows my name, but refuses to use it. I look for the first time at the name badge on his shirt pocket that identifies him as J. T. Banner .

“Is your name really Jack?”

He snorts out a laugh. I can tell he’s trying to hide the amusement I see glittering in his dark eyes behind his scowl. “Yes. Get the hell out of here.”

I don’t even remember what I stammer out before I beat feet back to my car, my heart racing with a heady brew of fear and excitement. I know I’m going to jerk off tonight to thoughts of Jack’s deep voice saying my name.