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I
I don’t see it coming. The first moment. And that’s what makes it so extraordinary; it means so much because it’s so small. One moment I’m telling Kelly a story about how I once got fleas as a wolf, and he’s laughing, laughing, laughing, and then he stops laughing, looking at me with a curious expression. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, about to tell him I don’t still have fleas, if that’s what he’s worried about, when he leans over, light and quick, and kisses the corner of my mouth.
He pulls away just as fast, cheeks darkening as he leans back against the tree we’re sitting under.
“What was that for?” I ask him quietly.
He says, “Because I wanted to.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you maybe do it again some time?”
He smiles. “Yeah. Maybe.”
I—
I
I
I
I ask, “What is this?” as we walk through the woods.
He laughs, taking my hand in his. “It’s nothing. Just… why do you ask so many questions all the time?”
I bump his shoulder against mine. “I need you to come with me. That’s what you said. You have to know how that sounds. All mysterious.”
“It’s… goddammit. I’m not trying to be mysterious.”
I don’t believe him. But it doesn’t matter. Because there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
He says, “I know,” like he can hear my thoughts. Maybe he can. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Having someone know me like that. It’s not the same as hearing the wolf thoughts through the bond. That’s a matter of pack. This is a matter of the heart.
I go with him, because even if he’s being mysterious, I would follow him everywhere.
He takes me to the tree where he kissed me for the first time.
(And where I kissed him the second time a few days later.)
He’s working himself up toward something, and I think I should be nervous, think that something’s wrong, but he’s green, he’s so green like he’s relieved, and I don’t know what it could be.
And then he says, “I have something for you.” He slides the backpack off his back, putting it between us. He leans back against the tree.
I look down at the bag. “Like a present?”
“Sort of. I… just… ugh. This shouldn’t be so hard.”
I take his hand again, squeezing his fingers in mine. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks at me. “You mean that, don’t you?”
I blink. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not—it doesn’t matter.” And then he says three words he’s never said to me before, three words that I know in my heart he feels but never had been spoken aloud.
