Page 28 of Loan Wolf (Green Valley Shifters: Generations #1)

28

CLARA

C lara paid her bill with Gabe at his shop and wondered that he could be so cool with her after being so tender and caring. He acted like he didn’t have a care in the world as she signed out a replacement bike (painted with stylized suns and named Soleil), and when she left, he was dismantling Daisy without so much as a goodbye or a parting wave, though she lingered suggestively, hoping for one.

The sun was still high in the sky, and her elbow and knees smarted, but when she caught her reflection in a shop window, it wasn’t as obvious as she’d feared it would be.

Patricia was not at the hotel, but she’d left a kind note that she was sorry and hoped Clara was okay because she wasn’t answering her phone.

Clara pulled her phone out of her pocket and tried it again. It still failed to respond and Clara left it next to the note as she got dressed in clean clothes. Despite the heat, she chose lightweight full-length leggings and a long-sleeved blouse, to delay the inevitable panic that her scraped up limbs would cause.

It didn’t help when she showed up for practice because the scab on her elbow split when she rode over and stained the sleeve of her shirt red.

“What have you done?” Twiller demanded.

“Are you okay?” “Did you get hurt?” Trevor and Aaron were both there and had been chatting up Twiller as they waited for her.

Clara threw the bag with her skirt and shoes on the stage. “It’s nothing,” she said, vaulting up after it. “I fell off my bike. Just like when we were kids!”

Neither man, nor Twiller, was placated. “You owe your body more respect than that,” her manager said, frowning as she rolled up the sleeve to inspect the damage. It was a stupid amount of blood for the tiny scrape. “Let me see your legs!”

“I don’t think Linda would appreciate her stage being used for stripping,” Clara quipped.

Aaron muffled a laugh, but Trevor just looked appalled.

Clara pulled up her leggings to expose her scuffed up knees. “It will heal,” she said. “I’ll wear tights for the performance.”

“You certainly will,” Twiller said tightly. “Get warmed up. We have a lot of work to do.”

Clara worked diligently through her stiffness and soreness, fighting back the dizziness that still dogged her.

She was the master of her body. She could make it be stronger and faster and more flexible if she tried hard enough. She ignored the pain and discomfort, held the poses longer and pushed herself further, until even Twiller conceded that she’d done enough and was ready for the performance.

Trevor and Aaron stayed for the full practice, sitting one seat apart in the front row. They appeared to be having a disagreement, but Clara shortly found that they had common ground on one front.

“You shouldn’t be seeing Gabe,” Trevor said bluntly. “He’s bad news.”

“Look what happened to you,” Aaron added.

“Gabe is not the reason I fell off a bike,” Clara said, downing a bottle of water and wiping off her sweaty face. She didn’t want to admit how sore she was. She wondered if she could manage an ice bath at the hotel. It would take a dozen trips to the ice machine. “He told me not to take that trail alone.”

“If he hadn’t rented you a bike, you wouldn’t have fallen,” Trevor pointed out.

Clara stared at him until he realized how stupid that sounded.

“I mean—” he stumbled.

Aaron sprang to his defense. “Maybe it’s not Gabe’s fault you fell, but he’s just not the kind of guy you want people knowing you went to Eagle Lake with.”

Clara was astonished at the gossip rate of Green Valley. “It’s not your business who I go to a lake with. It’s not anyone’s business but mine!”

“People will talk,” Trevor warned.

“You know how small towns are,” Aaron added.

“I know how small minds are,” Clara countered. “Gabe’s a nice guy who doesn’t treat me like a fucking doll and if I want to hang out with him, I can and will.”

They both flinched when she swore.

“He doesn’t love you,” Trevor said flatly, sucking the brief moment of triumph from her.

“I don’t need him to,” Clara snapped, recognizing the lie as she said it. “I don’t need anyone to!” She slung her bag over her aching shoulder and stalked out of the theatre.