Page 7 of Trees Take the Long View

I didn't look at him. I dressed with clumsy hands, more exhausted than I'd felt as a wolf, and not because of the exercise. Just the sheer weight of everything could bring me down so hard sometimes. I knew I should be over the past, the failure and betrayal. I knew I should be happy, because I was carving a life out for myself, and there were good things about it, not just challenges. But sometimes it all felt so very heavy.

"Hey. You all right?" He touched my shoulder lightly. I wished he wasn't going all tentative around me. We'd been pretty comradely on the adventure. Did it have to change now?

I supposed it did. My attraction to him actually meant something in this form. There was a possibility something could happen. Maybe he needed distance, to refute that idea.

"I'm..." I sought for my words. "It's not as easy, being a human."

He studied me consideringly. "Do you ever think about just staying as a wolf for a while? Would it help, if you did?"

I snorted. "That's a last resort, believe me." I would hate to go feral. I mean, I don't suppose I'd ever truly forget who I was, no matter how long I stayed in wolf form, but sometimes, wolves who stayed as wolves ended up spending their lives that way, losing the parts of living that humanity gave them.

"Sometimes shifters decide to stay in their animal form, but it's not a really healthy choice," I shared. "I mean, it's better than killing yourself, or something like that. But I'm not in that bad a shape."

"Aren't you? I'm glad." He fell awkwardly silent. "It was nice. What you showed me."

I was dressed now, but he seemed neither more nor less comfortable than he'd been when I was changing. I guess he didn't see me as a sexual being at all. It was oddly emasculating, to feel like he didn't even notice me. He'd noticed me undressing. What had changed? Wasn't I good enough? Maybe knowing I could be a wolf as easily as a man was a big turn-off for him.

"Can I drive you back to your place now?" he asked tentatively. I sighed inwardly. "You do have a place, don't you?"

Great, he did think I was a basket case.

I gave in. "Sure."

We didn't talk much on the drive. I was too depressed to start a conversation. I'd expected great things out of that time together, and clearly, it had been far too much. He wasn't my mate if he couldn't still be interested in me after we'd spent some time together. After I'd walked out of a restaurant because of my bad memories and angst. I didn't want to force myself on him, and it was clearly one-sided, so what was left to say? And he was too busy walking on eggshells around me to come up with anything.

"Turn here," I instructed.

"You sure? It's a dirt road."

"Yep. I can walk from here. Thanks." I grabbed my bag from the backseat and opened the door before he'd more than slowed down.

"Alec. Wait."

I pulled the door shut again so it wouldn't hit any branches as he continued to drive. Apparently he wasn't planning to stop. "What?"

He slowed to an idle, then stopped and gave me a look that seemed both perplexed and hurt. "What's the problem? What did I do?"

I sighed, and scraped my fingers back through my hair. It was already a mess, and kinda sweaty. After I'd just showered, too. "Nothing. I'm sorry. Thanks for the meal. It was—nice to meet you."

"Do you really think I'm going to walk away after today? You're an enigma, and one I've got to get to know better." He pointed a finger at me, trying to make it teasing. But there was something dead serious about him that he couldn't quite hide.

"Really?" I was surprised. I'd thought he was ready to flee. "For work, right?" I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Pretty sure I failed.

"No. You're never going to work with a cop again, and why would I blame you for that? For me." He looked at me. I stared back, meeting his gaze, trying to decipher what it meant.

He looked away first. "I mean, unless you want me to go." He drummed his fingers on the wheel.

"No," I said very softly, not sure how to curb the suddenly wild beating of my heart. Oh, hope was a dangerous, fluttering beast. It could fly away so fast and leave you worse than before. "Can I show you where I live?"

"I'd like that." He didn't look at me, too embarrassed or shy, or something else.

We drove on, very slow, tires crunching over the thin gravel road, branches occasionally thwacking the sides of the car. I'd taken him into all kinds of wilderness today, and probably far out of his comfort zone, but he didn't show any signs of it.

"Here," I said at last. He parked, obeying me, though there was no clear sign of any habitation at all. I got out of the car, taking my bag. I shut the door very quietly behind me. This moment was charged, important. I waited for him to follow me. Neither of us said anything, but when I led him down a small footpath that forked off the road, he didn't hesitate.

"Here." We stopped at my tent. It was army green, and nearly blended with the landscape. Big trees, some underbrush, and a few shade-loving flowers surrounded my little home. A fire pit, some clothes I'd left to dry on a branch, and an old-fashioned coffee pot made the place look a bit cluttered. "I didn't know I'd have visitors, or I'd have neatened up."

He looked around, but didn't say a word.