“I want to kiss you.”
24
JULIET
Roderick doesn’t respond right away,but that’s okay. The pause gives me a chance to study him. To become more comfortable with this chance I’m taking.
A challenge I’m setting for myself to take a step away from the darkness of my past.
Kiss a man.
Kiss a werewolf.
Is this the dumbest or the bravest thing I’ve ever done?
When I moved in with Cory, we chose a house that was walking distance to my job at the Bear Valley Public Library. At first, I couldn’t get over how sweet the gesture was—that he’d choose to live in a smaller place that was more convenient for me. After time passed, I came to realize the house was another way to control me. That me traveling on foot to work meant it was easier for him to keep track of where I was.
Still, I enjoyed that walk. Especially in the spring when everyone started planting flowers in their front yards. There was one stretch of sidewalk in front of a row of town houses that allhad the same rough bricks at the edge of their gardens. The walls stood about knee-high and provided a pretty structure to the landscaping. Unfortunately, yellow jackets liked the bricks too. As I walked by each day, I would spy the critters crawling out of the cracks and taking flight. Never swarms, but just enough to make me uncomfortable. I’d been stung a couple of times as a kid, and I knew the radiating pain from even one little prick.
Still, I didn’t switch sides of the street or map another route because that sidewalk kept me in the warm sun for my walk, and just past the town houses was the home of a retired woman, who put all her free time into constructing a gorgeous mass of flowers. I wasn’t the only one attracted to the blooms. When the weather started to warm, butterflies would flutter about in the yard, probably having lived there as caterpillars.
The sight of their soft wings catching the breeze brought me a smile every time, filling my hollow chest with a little bit of joy.
The problem was, whenever a butterfly approached from the side, where I could only spot movement in the corner of my eye, I would flinch. To get to the butterfly garden, I first had to pass the yellow-jacket walls, and my body was programmed for defense.
Which made me hate the yellow jackets even more. Fear of them stole some of my happiness from seeing the harmless creatures.
And I can’t help thinking of that walk now, as I sit on my kitchen floor, staring at Roderick.
I keep expecting the Pine Falls werewolves to be yellow jackets. But they keep showing me they are butterflies.
And I hate the Bear Valley wolves all the more. They are the reason I flinch. The reason I panic.
I’ve escaped the place, but not the fear attached to it. When I saw Roderick’s black eyes, I lost my grip on the current moment. I was back in my old kitchen, Cory looming over me,eyes dark with anger over some infraction I hadn’t realized I had committed.
Or dark with lust because he wanted me. Didn’t matter if I wantedhimanymore. Although, for the longest time, I told myself I did because I thought it might help in some way.
It didn’t.
Roderick tilts his head to the side, studying me like a puzzle.
Unfortunately, his lack of response pinches at my pride. I wanted to do something wild. Something rebellious. Commit an act that would send Cory into a rage if he ever knew.
He won’t know, but that’s fine.
Because all I want is to establish that I have full control over my life now. I want to press myself against a werewolf without fear.
Also, it would be nice to finally kiss someone because I want to and not because I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t.
But not if the guy doesn’t want to kiss me back.
I’m just about to pat Roderick’s knee and tell him not to worry about it when his hands reach out to grip my waist. With little effort, he picks me up and settles me on his lap, my legs straddling his waist.
“Do what you want with me.” His voice is rough, low, and laced with what I could swear is need.
Holy shit. Has a sexier phrase ever been uttered?
His lids lower, blocking out the darkness of his eyes, which I’m thankful for. Now, with full permission, I hesitate.
