Page 24 of Not My Mate

"I ever tell you about my job?" I asked quietly.

"You can't," Charlie said matter-of-factly. The rip of duct tape accompanied his words as he deftly tore off a piece. "The confidentiality clause, remember?"

If anything, he'd made my point better than I could have. I swear their eyes bugged out twice the size.

"Okay, job done." Charlie straightened up, dusting off his hands. He held the roll of duct tape out distractedly, and Devin finally remembered to take it. "But you'll definitely need some major repairs. This thing isn't going much farther. Drive to the nearest garage if you don't want to have to pay for a tow."

He finally glanced at them instead of their stupid pink car, properly aware of those around him for the first time and still not quite making eye contact. "Okay, well, um, bye," he said awkwardly. "It's a nice, uh, car. Or, it was once."

"Come on." I caught him by the forearm and tugged him back towards our rented car. Which actually ran, thank you very much.

I was disgusted with his one-track-mindedness, his kindness, and how hard it had been to endure their harassment. The last thing either of us needed was to stand here while he flailed around awkwardly. Put him in almost any social situation, and he crashed and burned. I wasn't going to watch that on top of the whole peach thing. If they laughed at his face and called him a dork, I'd probably try to kill them — even if I halfway wanted to call him a few names myself.

He glanced at me quickly, pulling his arm free. There was something cautious and alert in his eyes, a lack of understanding along with the knowledge that he'd missed something. It made him self-conscious and off-balance, but I wasn't about to try to fill him in.

We drove off, leaving them to it, a sour taste still in my mouth. I was never going to like those guys — and, apparently, they were never going to change or grow up.

"You should always stop to help another wolf in distress," Charlie told me. "Even I know that." The disapproval was clear in his voice.

"You didn't know them. I did. You'd have driven past and shouted 'later, losers' if you knew them."

"Well, it's good I don't, then." He settled in to drive, his expression serious with concentration.

I wished this was going to be a fun road trip, but something told me it would be anything but.

#

With no more unscheduled stops, we made good time. We stopped at diners and fast food joints to eat and relieve ourselves. Charlie switched seats with me reluctantly when he realized he was getting too tired to drive safely. He yawned and yawned, then slumped down and fell asleep.

I wished this felt less like a dirge, a goodbye, and the last chance I'd ever have to spend time with him. While he, in his matter-of-fact way, didn't care at all.

Of course I would see him again. At least once or twice, surely. Unless we both made an effort to avoid one another in future. Which we probably should do.

He, at least, would have no problem with that.

My hands tightened on the wheel, and the clench of my jaw wasn't letting up. That headache I'd felt coming on was here as an unwanted companion, riding along, throbbing quietly in my skull, promising worse to come if I couldn't stop gritting my teeth and scowling — and driving into the sunset. It made my eyes hurt.

"We're gonna have to stop for the night," I told Charlie, speaking a little louder than I had to over the sound of the wind and the engine. He startled awake, blinking at me, looking clueless and grave. His big blue eyes were innocent and lost, for just a moment, as if he had no clue where he was or who either of us was, or why he was here at all.

"What?" he croaked in a gravelly voice which, I imagined, was how he must sound after sex.

I cleared my throat, but he didn't take the hint and follow suit. "We need to stop. It's getting too late."

He scowled at me, a quick, resentful look, and slid down farther in his seat, crossing his arms. "I drove most of the day. You could drive overnight."

I snorted. "Yeah, except I value my life. And are you really comfortable in that seat?"

"Sure I am."

"Allnight?"

He shrugged unconvincingly. "All right, we'll stop. Separate rooms, though."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to force my attentions on you," I said bitterly.

He looked surprised, and blinked. "No, I didn't think you would." To my surprise, he sounded almost sad. "I never thought that."

Until I'd kissed his neck, like a fool. Then he had, for a while, at least.