Page 7 of Not My Mate

"Okay." Something about his gaze softened, taking the edge off the hurt of having him laugh at me, feel like he was better than me. "I'll bring a sandwich out to the garage, and I'll make one for you, too. If you don't want it, don't eat it."

He turned towards the house and walked away without letting me protest further. I stared after him, my mouth gone dry. I didn't want him watching me work and criticizing that, too. Engine repair was my respite. My escape when there was no other: no Sahil, no sleep, no peace. I didn't want Russ forcing his way into that, too. Soon I would have nowhere left to go.

I didn't know how to stop him, though, so I trod back to my garage and began fiddling. I tried to really let myself sink into it, letting my mind go blank, trying to forget the distress of the conversation. It was difficult. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

A short time later he returned with a large tray. It was piled up with more than two sandwiches, of course. We were wolves, after all. He'd brought cold chicken, potato wedges, salads, ice cream, deviled ham sandwiches cut into squares, and corn chips. I was hungry in spite of myself. By mutual unspoken agreement, we ate the ice cream first so it couldn't melt too much.

There was room in my garage for him. It was a fairly dimly lit space with a couple of ratty but comfortable chairs, a work bench, and my tools. I had a cot in the corner with an army blanket on it for when I slept out here. A few clean clothes and some beef jerky were tucked up into the shelves I had on the wall for tools and parts. It was all fairly neat, with the comforting smell of engine grease.

"It's really coming along." He nodded to my engine, gesturing with his sandwich. His mouth was full.

I gave him a distrustful look and took a savage bite of salad. "What do you know about engines?" I muttered. Not more than me, that was for sure.

"I know it's looking more and more like one." His good humor hadn't vanished. Even that was irritating, like he was in on a joke I'd never get. Likethathad never happened to me before.

"Wow, it's great to have your expert input." I rolled my eyes and took another furious bite.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself this time. I gave him a cold look, and he met it with an awkward little smile. He reached out and put a hand on my arm. I twitched away from him, and his smile died a slow death.

"You have no need to touch me," I informed him coldly.

"No," he said quietly, looking less smug and pleased with himself. He looked down at his plate, chewing slowly, methodically, like it was going to take some work to devour everything on it.

"So, don't."

He nodded but didn't speak. I felt a little bit like a jerk, but really, I couldn't stand to be around him if he was going to unexpectedly touch me.

I wasn't about to explain that I didn't like any human males touching me in my human form. It just wasn't okay — except for Sahil, of course, or my dad. It made me very unhappy and even angry to have a strange man touch me without permission. And Russ met my definition of "strange."

It was different in my wolf skin. Touches didn't mean anything bad to me then. But if he'd started rubbing up against me in his wolf form while I was a wolf, too, getting into my personal space, I wouldn't have liked that, either. I'd probably have bitten him.

I finished eating, still having nothing to say to him. It was awkward having him here, and I kept hoping he'd get fed up and leave. When I was done eating, I set aside the plate — markedly without thanking him, hoping rudeness would work to get rid of him — and went back to work on my engine. Of course, if rudeness was going to work, it would have when I'd snapped at him previously. He never could take a hint.

He sat there eating and watching me, and when he was done, he wandered over, looking on for a bit, then took a turn around the garage, studying this and that. I pretended to ignore him, but really, I was aware of him the whole time, like an irritant at the back of my brain, a nagging headache that wouldn't go away. I wasn't going to let on that he was getting to me, but he really was.

The sad part was, I felt like he was really trying to be friends, in his own way. He hadn't said anything about Sahil all the while he was here, and we hadn't started fighting.

He wandered over to my cot and pressed his fingers against it, making the springs creak. Then he started to sit down on it. I whirled on him with a wordless snarl. I dropped my tool and started towards him, hands forming fists, ready to defend my territory to the death if need be.

He jumped up, looking extremely surprised.

I stood in front of him, flexing and unflexing my hands. "Don't get on my bed." It was extremely important.

"Afraid I'll stink it up?" His smile was tight and a little hurt as he tilted his head, studying me, his eyes narrowing. "Why do I bother you so much?"

"Just...don't do it." My jaw was tight, the muscles in it jumping a little. Why couldn't he understand boundaries? Now that he wasn't pushing about Sahil — thank goodness — he was trying to steal my bed? It wasn't okay!

"I'm not going to hurt you, Charlie."

"You do all the time."

"I don't mean to." He took a step closer to me.

I took one back. "Just stay over there, okay?"

"Why? What are you afraid of?"

I glared at him. Did he have to challenge me two hundred percent of the time? Couldn't he leave me alone?