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I didn't want to be soft and feminine. I wanted to be a badass bitch who no one would ever think to second-guess. But how badass was it to hide how you were feeling? I mean I emoted. When I was pissed or frustrated or offended, there was hell to pay. I ranted, I raged. I made grown ass men cower and hide. So what would be wrong with embracing some of the less fun emotions? Like pain and desire, hope and maybe... just maybe... love.
"Oh god," I groaned at myself as I broke into the clearing to the cabin.
I was never like Lo in that department, drooling over romance novels, dying for the hero and heroine to overcome the odds and get together. In fact, I tended to skim over the lovey-dovey crap in the books I read. I guess a part of me rebelled against it because I never considered it a possibility for me. Things had happened to me at such a young age that I hardly had a chance to date, let alone entertain the idea of love. I had been too wrapped up in teenage rebellion and driving my parents crazy to devote any real time to boys. And after, well, the idea turned my stomach.
But here I was, all un-turned stomach with normal feelings for someone of the opposite sex.
And, make no mistake, there were feelings.
There was no denying it. It was in the way my body responded to him, even when I didn't want it to. It was in the way I actually fucking cried around him, in how I hung on his every word (no matter how few they were), and well... missed him when he was gone.
Hence my sour mood despite a run-in with a man who likely made all other women forget about their boyfriends, husbands, and lovers altogether.
I dropped down in the middle of the bed on a huff and tried to concentrate on a book. For all of three seconds because then I heard the sound of Wolf's truck rumbling up the drive. I resisted the urge to spring up and run to the door.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Wolf lumbered in, hands full of bags.
"You went... shopping?" I asked, nose scrunching up at the idea. It was hard to imagine someone like him doing every day banal tasks like shopping and getting hair cuts and taking the dogs to the vet. Wolf made some kind of grunting noise as he put the bags on the dining table and started fishing items out and putting them into the fridge.
"That's a lot of food. I think I've proved that I'm useless in a kitchen."
"I'll cook," he said simply like it was no big deal.
Meanwhile, it gave me that warm, gooey feeling again.
Still. Things needed to be discussed.
"Um, Wolf?" Another grunt. "We, ah, need to talk about some stuff." God, I sounded like such a girl.
He stopped his unpacking and turned, focusing all his attention on me. "Okay." I fumbled for where to start. Apparently all the talking I did was not the same as speaking. Because I was shit at this. "Gonna talk?"
I took a deep breath. "Why am I here?" I went with.
"You wanna be," he shrugged.
"No like... augh!" Okay. I needed to relax. "Do you want me here?" I tried, feeling like a lot was hanging on his answer, my entire future actually. Because if Wolf didn't want to keep me in his cabin... what was left for me in Navesink Bank? I might never feel comfortable at Hailstorm again. Lo forgave me, but would trust ever be the same? Could she convince the other organizations to not come after me? Even if she managed that, none of them would ever look at me the same. I would always be that chick that set bombs on their turf, making them look vulnerable, exploiting their weak spots. If I couldn't find a new reason to stay, well, then it was better to leave.
"If you wanna be."
"That's not an answer."
"It's my answer."
"Do you even... like me at all?"
"Killed for you."
"Yeah, but like... would you have done that for any random girl you saw in my situation?" His silence was all the answer I needed for that particular question. It was an answer that was at once crushing, because his actions weren't out of genuine feelings for me, but also uplifting because, well, he was really just a good guy. I looked down at the bed, too mortified to ask what I was about to ask to watch him while I did so. "Are you... attracted to me?"
The answer was swift. "Seriously?"
"Wolf..."
"Yes," he said and I could finally look up.
"Is that all you want from me?"
"Janie stop," he said, shaking his head, going back to unpacking his bags.
"Stop what? I've barely gotten started, Wolf. I'm trying to understand."
"Understand what?" he asked, back to me.
"What I'm doing here. If you actually want me here. If you're just being a good guy and hiding me from the cops. If you actually want anything to do with me or you just want to fuck me because I am close and have the right body parts."
"I want you here," he said, putting his fists on the surface of the dining room table, making him hunch slightly forward.
"Right. But for what reason? Am I just another club whore to you? Like whatever one you spent the other night with?"
"The other night?" he said, his voice getting lower, almost scary.
"Yeah, when you didn't come home. It's cool. I mean... you weren't getting any from me. And I mean... we aren't like together or anything. It's... whatever. I'm just trying to make a point."
"Then make it," he growled.
"That I'm not some slut you can hit and quit like the others."
"I've had women before."
"Obviously," I said, shrugging.
"Not apologizing for that."
"I wasn't asking you to."
"But no one since you."
Well, that was one way to shut me up. Unfortunately for me, he was angry and in the mood to fight about it if his posture and the way his eyes were tossing daggers at me were anything to go off of. "Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that!" It was a question, but it came out like an accusation. "You don't fucking talk to me, Wolf."
