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He was curious about my life. I saw it in the subtle way he scoped everything out, from the pictures on my walls to the comedy movies on my shelves.
“Why don’t I get us a drink,” I offered, disappearing into the kitchen. I could see him over the bar and he was looking at the back door that led to my balcony. “You want a beer? I don’t have your favorite, or at least, what you used to like.”
“Sounds good.”
This conversion was going to require more than a beer. It was too early in the day to get lit, so I pulled out two bottles and set them on the rectangular table in my quaint little dining room.
Austin had his back to me, still shirtless.
I quickly dove into the bedroom and fished out one of Beckett’s shirts from a bottom drawer. There was no way I was going to be able to carry on a conversation while staring at his six-pack.
“Here,” I said, tossing him the shirt.
He caught it and sharpened his eyes. “Whose shirt is this?”
“My ex’s.”
His fists tightened around the red material but his voice stayed smooth and relaxed. “How much of an ex is he?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He lifted the shirt. “You’re still keeping around a spare set of his clothes. You tell me.”
I sat down and took a swig of beer. “He had sex in my car with another woman. I’m not a forgive-and-forget kind of girl. I just forgot I still had it in there.”
“You just said you didn’t forget.”
I turned my mouth to the side and drummed my fingers on the bottle. “I can forget a T-shirt pretty easily. I can’t forget my ex getting ridden like a mechanical bull in the back of my Toyota.”
Austin suddenly ripped the shirt in half and the sound of the material tearing made me jump.
He calmly walked into the kitchen, dropped the shirt into the trash can, and returned to his seat across the table. Then he casually drank his beer as if nothing weird had just transpired with him going Hulk and shredding my former lover’s favorite “I’m an idiot” shirt.
The bubbles in my empty stomach were already working their alcoholic magic. “So tell me what happened to Wes. Don’t dance around the truth, Austin. I’ve invited you here and I want you to be straight with me.”
Austin sipped his beer and grimaced, setting the bottle in the middle of the table.
“I’m a Shifter,” he said.
“Shifter,” I repeated blandly. “You move around? What does that mean?”
“Shapeshifter.”
My shoulders sagged. “I don’t have time for jokes.”
He didn’t break eye contact and those pale blue eyes polished me off like a dog licking his bowl clean. “There’s another world that exists that would surprise the hell out of you. Wes knew what I was.”
I sighed angrily. “Don’t drag Wes into your pathological—”
“Lexi,” he said in a hard voice, “I’m a Shifter.”
My eyes narrowed. “Then turn yourself into a zebra.”
He slowly shook his head and rubbed his jaw. “My animal hasn’t met you; I don’t trust him alone in your presence just yet.”
I threw my head back and slapped the palms of my hands on the table. “Oh my God. You’rekiddingme! All these years I’ve wondered what happened to you and if you were even alive. I’m such a fuckingidiot. Now you show up out of nowhere and the only thing you have to tell me is you’re awerewolf?”
“Shifter,” he corrected with a suppressed grin.
