Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Demi
The diner was nothing special. It had fluorescent lights that hummed too loudly, vinyl booths patched with duct tape, and the smell of burnt coffee baked into the walls.
But it was neutral ground.
At least, that’s what I told myself when I slid into a booth across from Werewolf and felt the weight of his stare pin me to the seat like I’d just made the dumbest decision of my life.
Maybe I had.
But after watching him choke answers out of a man in an alley like it was just another Tuesday night, I wasn’t waiting for him to come to me. I needed answers, and I needed them now.
“Why here?” he muttered and leaned back against the booth like he owned it. I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders stretching the leather cut tight across his chest.
“Because you can’t slam me against a wall in front of half the city,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
One brow arched. “Don’t tempt me.”
Heat flared low in my stomach. Damn him.
I grabbed the menu like it might shield me and flipped it open, though I already knew I wasn’t ordering anything.
His gaze didn’t waver.
I slammed the menu shut and leaned forward across the table. “You know more than you’re telling me. My brother didn’t just stumble into something. He was killed, and you know who did it.”
His jaw clenched. For a second, I thought he’d shut me down again and feed me some line about keeping quiet.
Instead, he leaned forward too. The space between us shrank until I could feel the heat radiating off him and the faint mix of leather and smoke clinging to his skin.
“You keep saying you want the truth,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “But you don’t know what the truth costs.”
“I don’t care.” My pulse raced, and my breath was shaky. “He was my brother. I loved him. And I’m not just going to let him be another body nobody talks about.”
For a moment, his eyes softened. Just a flicker, but enough to send my heart lurching.
Then the softness was gone, replaced by steel.
“You think loving him changes the fact that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? That chasing a ghost is going to bring him back?”
I leaned closer until our noses almost brushed. “I think if you really believed that, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
His lips twitched, not a smile, not quite, but something dangerous flickered there.
“You’ve got a mouth on you,” he said.
“And you don’t scare me.”
The lie tasted sharp on my tongue. He scared the hell out of me. He scared me in ways that kept me awake at night, my body buzzing with adrenaline and something hotter I didn’t want to name.
He leaned back suddenly, dragging the air with him, and left me gasping like I’d been holding my breath.
The waitress appeared with two coffees we hadn’t ordered while her eyes darted nervously between us before she scurried away.
Werewolf wrapped his big hand around the mug, lifted it slowly while watching me over the rim as he drank.
It shouldn’t have been sexy. It was just coffee. But the way his throat worked, the way his lips curved against the ceramic, and the way his gaze stayed locked on mine made my skin burn.
I shoved my hair back and tried to shake it off. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re reckless.”
“I’m determined.”
“Stupid.”
“Persistent.”
His lips twitched again, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle me or kiss me. Maybe both.
“You keep this up,” he said finally, “and I won’t be able to protect you.”
The words landed heavy, but the way he said them, it wasn’t just a threat. It was a confession.
I swallowed hard. “Then maybe I don’t want protection.”
His eyes darkened, and heat sparked, making my pulse trip over itself.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he growled.
“Don’t I?”
The space between us sizzled, charged with everything we weren’t saying.
For one reckless heartbeat, I thought he was going to close the distance. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and mine did the same. My lips parted. Wanting.
Then he pushed back suddenly. He threw a crumpled bill on the table, stood, towered over me with anger, and something hotter radiated off him in waves.
“This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
Before I could respond, he walked out.
I sat there, my chest heaving while my body trembled with frustration and want. My heart screamed at me that I’d just lost my chance.
But the echo of his voice lingered.
This is a bad idea.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel like running.
I felt like chasing.
I left and stepped into the cool night air. He leaned against his bike out front with a cigarette glowing between his fingers like he’d been waiting for me.
“Get on,” he said, and jerked his chin at the bike.
I froze. “What?”
He climbed on and stared at me. “You wanted the truth? You’re in it now. Get on.” He started the bike, and the engine rumbled around us.
I should’ve said no. Should’ve turned and walked the other way.
Instead, I swung my leg over the bike and pressed my body against his back. The rumble of the engine thrummed through me.
As we roared into the night, my arms wrapped tight around his solid frame, I realized something terrifying.
I wasn’t just chasing answers anymore.
I was chasing him.