"Used to, didn't they? Sled dogs and shit? Shepherd dogs? You're just salty because Bear makes the rest of us look like we standin’ still." Darius shoots a look at my car—I head for it, taking the cue. “Nice to meet you, Darius."
"You too, Noelle Harper. Take care of our boy, y'hear?"
"I will!"
"What, not gonna introduce yourself to me?" I hear Duane mutter. "Bitch."
Panzer snarls, and Duane pales, hurrying away into the open trailer, where he busies himself putting things away.
I bring Panzer to my car, open it, give him the command to jump up and in, and then get it going, air conditioner on full blast.
I wait for Bear, watching the other guys clean up and get ready to go.
Duane stops every so often to glare at me, an ugly sneer on his face that sends shivers down my spine.
Not a good dude. Not all there.
Indeed.
I'lldefinitelybe steering clear of him from now on.
A few minutes later, Bear emerges, shuts the door behind him, attaches a lockbox, and then heads my way, waving at the others.
He settles into the passenger seat, filling my tiny car with his presence, heat, and masculine smell.
Sweat, yes, but not stink. Or if it stinks, I’m nosebleed or something because it doesn't bother me at all.
“Ready to go home?" I ask, smiling at him.
He nods. "Sure am."
It only occurs to me later that when I said home, I meant my home, but used it in a collective "we" sense.Ourhome.
I wonder if he caught that.
The closer we get to my house, the more my nerves jangle and clang in my belly, butterflies soaring and fluttering, skin tight, nipples hard, core damp and slick.
I don't know what's going to happen between us tonight, but I'm ready for it.
I just hope he is.
Eleven
BEAR
Something is different. I don't know what, and I don't know how to ask.
I didn't miss the way she looked at me back at the worksite—the only word I can find is "ogle," but it feels weird to apply that to me. I knew a few girls that would hook up with me back in the old hood, but I was never a ladies’ man. Too shy. Too fucked up. Those girls knew the score, too. We had a good time, I went my way, she went hers, and that was it. If we hooked up again some other time, cool, but there was never an expectation of more—moresimply didn’t exist for us in that world. For me, at least.
And I’ve never felt like the type of guy a girl is gonna ogle, or stare at—not that way, at least. But she did.
She was looking at me like she couldn't get enough of looking.
That does weird shit to my insides. Twists my head all around. Makes me feel like…I dunno. I just don't know how to feel.
I wish I knew how she was feeling—what she was thinking. We’ve gotten way closer and gotten to know each other pretty well over the last couple of months, but I still can’t alwaysread her. Especially where the idea of “us” is concerned. I’ve tried hard to keep the line clear—we’re friends, no more. We hold hands, which confuses the issue, sure, but…what does that mean?
Then today she shows up at work, looking at me like I’m something to eat. Picking me up from work, taking me to her house, talking about cooking dinner?
