I flinch back with a scowl. “No, why would I give you my number?”
“In case I need to get ahold of you for work stuff,” he replies nonchalantly.
“No.” I refocus on my computer screen, angrily clicking my mouse as I scroll through to my next task.
Even if I didn’t hate Matty because of everything he stands for, relating to others has never been my strong suit. I’ve been on the outskirts of most social circles ever since Allison King declared that I wasweirdin the third grade. I wasn’t particularly offended by it since I’d rather be weird and interesting than normal and boring, but kids are cruel little shits, so I didn’t get invited to many birthday parties after that. Ididsteal Allison’s boyfriend junior year of high school, though, just to spite the bitch. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
I’ve never fit a mold, or even the commonly-used metaphors for being different. I don’t march to the beat of my own drum; I play an entirely different instrument. I don’t color outside the lines; I flip the page over and create my own damn masterpiece. I’m an original, and if that makes me weird, it’s a title I’ll gladly embrace.
Dylan would’ve embraced my weird, too. He was my fated mate; the one person meant for me. He would’ve accepted all my strange quirks and even loved me for them, had he gotten the chance. The hunters didn’t just take his life, they took our future.
Showing any kindness to Matty would be akin to spitting on Dylan’s grave. No matter what side he’s on now, he was a hunter when my mate was murdered. He’ll always be the enemy.
“You okay?” Matty asks, tilting his head.
Shit, I hadn’t even realized I was looking at him.
Glaring, rather.
“Fine,” I growl, eyes pinging back to my screen.
He seems like a nice guy, but that doesn’t change what he is.
I blow out a slow breath, refocusing on the task at hand. I can always count on work to shut out the negative thoughts.I’ve been losing myself in it for months, distracting myself from confronting my own grief.
“Hey, she’s back!” Avery comments gleefully as she strolls into the command center, Cam right on her heels.
I whip my chair around, straightening my posture. “Hey,” I reply, tossing up an awkward little wave. “So, about yesterday…”
“Are you here to work?” Cam asks as the two of them come to a stop beside my desk.
I nod.
“Then don’t even worry about it,” he says, rapping his knuckles against my desk before continuing on to his own at the back of the room.
My brows shoot up as I watch after him, then shift my gaze to Avery.
She smiles back at me. “Glad to have you on the team, Blair,” she remarks, giving me a little nod and following after her mate.
“Glad to be here,” I call after her, grateful that yesterday’s outburst was so easily forgiven.
Swiveling to face my computer again, I dive right back into my work, determined to channel my rage into something positive. If I can actively prevent the hunters from regrouping and targeting shifters, maybe I’ll get some sense of justice for Dylan. Maybe I’ll finally be able to move into the acceptance stage of grief and life won’t suck so damn much.
Matty takes the hint and doesn’t try to strike up conversation again, but he does ask a couple work-related questions. I field them with one-word answers, avoiding eye contact whenever possible. It works, and the morning passes without incident, time flying by while I’m immersed in internet research.
“Do you wanna break for lunch?” Matty asks, the deep rumble of his voice breaking my intense focus.
“Huh?” I blurt, glancing up at him.
He grins, blue eyes sparkling. “Lunch?”
“I’m not hungry,” I mumble, averting my gaze.
He pushes back his chair and stands, my stomach choosing that moment to grumble in protest. He arches a brow, flickering a glance toward my belly. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I huff.
“Okay,” he sighs, swiveling around. “You guys wanna grab food?”
