Roderick’s stoic shell begins to fracture.
“You don’t get to come to this town,” he growls, “and spout off lies.”
“Like I said, I’m not lying!” Great, now I’m shouting. And suddenly, I’m up in Roderick’s face, shoving at his chest.
Not a good idea, a small, terrified voice whispers in the back of my brain.
But I’m too pissed off to heed it.
“This is my house! This is my life! And if I want to change my name to The Last Woman on Earth to Care About Roderick Jameson’s Opinion, then I’ll damn well do it!”
I go for another shove, but the wall of a man doesn’t move. He just glares down at me.
And I’ve had enough.
If I were a werewolf, this would likely continue to be a standoff. But I’m a human, and I like to think I’m in some possession of strategic intelligence.
So, I step around Roderick and walk out the front door.
Another wolf would never have done that because it would seem too much like retreating. Running away with my tail between my legs.
But I’m just relocating the argument to a preferred environment.
And Roderick, who is so bent on having this fight, can only participate if he follows me.
Just to piss him off more, I whistle and pat my leg before flicking my fingers in the ASL sign fordog.
A deep growl sounds behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The strange thing is, along with the prick of fear the noise brings, I feel something almost like excitement. The opposing emotions swirl in my chest, confusing my nerves and making my skin overly sensitive.
There’s a clomp of heavy worker boots stomping down my worn porch steps.
“I won’t put up with this.”
“My gods, get over it! So I changed my name. So you don’t know every detail of my past. You don’t need to care about that stuff, so stop growling about it!” I whirl on him, arms crossed, glare seething.
Roderick’s eyes are just as heated. “If it doesn’t matter, thentellme.”
“I never said it doesn’t matter. It matters a whole hell of a lot to me.” I jab a thumb against my breastbone. “But it is none of your damn business.” Despite knowing he won’t move, I still reach out and shove his shoulder, fulfilling the urge to bother him as much as he’s bothering me.
Roderick spent the majority of the day installing the security system, and now evening has descended, leaving the two of us illuminated only by my front porch light. I’m glad the argument is no longer happening in my house, but I hope our angry voices don’t disturb Hester.
“Pine Falls is my business.” Roderick ignores my push, dragging fingers over his shaved head as if he wants to claw the skin off. “The people here don’t need some outsider bringing trouble. Why don’t you sell your wares in some other town?”
The odd comment lands heavy between us, like a boulder toppling into a puddle. No room for it to sink away. Despite the darkness, I can still make out the way his mouth twists in a grimace.
Roderick is probably hoping I’ll leave it or immediately forget what he said.
But that’s not about to happen.
“Sell mywares?” I repeat with a disbelieving laugh. “When did I become a charlatan, charging the naive folk of Pine Falls for snake oil in the Old West?” Another chuckle sneaks out because this is all too much. “Did I suddenly grow a twirly mustache and not notice?”
Roderick grumbles something incoherent.
“I am alibrarian.” I emphasize this with another pointless poke against his muscly, too-warm chest. “At a public library.” Poke. Poke. “I basically hand out books for free.”
The guy could easily stop me from putting my hands on him. But maybe my efforts are so insubstantial that he doesn’t even notice my touch.
