Chapter 26
JULIET
As much as the werewolf aggravates me, I can’t say he’s dishonest.
Roderick strolls into the library right before the noon hour. Just like he said he would.
But this is one of those times I hoped I was being lied to.
Doesn’t matter that my pulse is all fluttery and my skin suddenly feels hot and sensitive. Doesn’t matter that his black thermal hugs his broad chest in all the right ways. Doesn’t matter that the moment his eyes meet mine, my vagina starts doing lunges to limber up.
You stop that right now, vagina!
All that matters is, I know, in the long-term, Roderick cannot be what I need from a partner.
Last night was supposed to be a simple challenge for myself. Prove that I could be brave and seek my own pleasure.
But it was also supposed to be a onetime thing. Or at least that was what I’d decided it would be once I had a moment to gather my thoughts.
When it comes to werewolves, there’s no guarantee of a relationship staying casual. Would I like to lick every inch of Roderick’s body and have him return the favor? Sure. But only if a few hot and heavy nights were on the table and not a magical life-long commitment.
Why can’t he go back to thinking I’m an annoying outsider?
I blame pie. I never should have made him the lemon cream.
I never should have tasted his strawberry rhubarb.
Fucking werewolves and their obsession with food gifts.
In my need to use a prop to accompany my apology, I forgot the significance of offering a wolf something edible. I basically asked Roderick if he wanted to be my boyfriend.
But shouldn’t he realize that wasn’t my intention?
Maybe I shouldn’t have muddied the waters by making out with him in my kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper-yell through a very fake smile.
Roderick rests his elbows on the checkout counter, leaning closer to me, face as serious as ever. “Taking you to lunch.”
“And I told you there was no point.” My smile is hard to hang on to. “We’re friendly acquaintances. You want a book? I’ll help you find a book.”
“I want you.”
The definitive way he says those three words has me shivering, and I can tell his sharp eyes are tracking the reaction, which only angers me more.
“What about what I want? Does that matter?”
His brow furrows. “Of course it does. Last night—” he cuts off when I hold up a staying hand.
Dr. Tsosie, the library director, just turned the corner, walking toward us. We might be friendly, but I do not need my boss to hear about the orgasm I had on my kitchen floor, given to me by a biker werewolf.
Best to keep that separate from work.
“Fine,” I hiss. “I will take my lunch break in your vicinity, and we can talk. But it’s not a date, so don’t try using that terminology.”
Roderick gives a sharp nod and straightens, dragging his eyes over me once before striding out the door. Through the glass, I watch him settle on a bench out front. Waiting for me.
Damn it to hell, I do not want to deal with this.
Odina Tsosie smiles when she reaches the front desk. “Ready for your lunch break?”
Despite being the director of the library and therefore not needing to take a turn on the circulation desk, Dr. Tsosie schedules herself here at least twice a week. She says it keeps her skills sharp and maintains a connection with our patrons.
One more reason I think she’s an amazing boss.
I appreciate this woman so much that I’m almost on hero-worship level with her. Besides Thad, Odina Tsosie is the only one in this town who knows about my past. Odina was friends with Angie Smith, director of the Bear Valley Public Library.
I confessed to Angie my plan to escape Cory after she saw a particularly nasty set of bruises on my arm. My old boss offered to hang on to the documents with my new name, and she gave me the beat-up station wagon that had belonged to her father and never got used.
Then, when I mentioned Pine Falls as one of the places I was considering running to, she reached out to a friend she’d made at a past library conference—Dr. Odina Tsosie.
After I had one video call with Dr. Tsosie, she offered me a position here, promising there would be no connection between Abigail Green and Pine Falls Public Library. That day, I sobbed alone in my office, hopeful of escape for the first time.
Those two women helped me escape Utah without detection and start a new job under my new name.
So, yeah, anyone who wants to say something bad about Odina Tsosie? They can fight me.
When I smile back at her, I hope my expression doesn’t appear too strained. “I’m ready. Be back at one.”
After swinging by my office to grab my lunch bag—fighting with a werewolf is not going to get in the way of my midday meal—I stalk outside. Roderick is on the same bench, manspreading on the thing as the bright autumn sun beats down on his shaved head.
Do werewolves get sunburn?
“Ready?” he asks, head tilting toward his bike.
I gape at his audacity.
“I’m not riding anywhere with you. I already have food.” With a flourish, I hold up my lunch box. “You want something to eat, then go on and get it.”
The wolf leans the top half of his body forward, elbows resting on his knees. Then he pats the bench seat beside me. Calling me to heel.
And I thought he was infuriating when he didn’t want to be around me.
I don’t sit down.
“If you really want to discuss this”—my hand waves between us—“then we’re moving farther away from my place of work.”
Beside the library is a grassy expanse with picnic tables scattered about. The place is busy in the summer, but not as much when school is in session and the air gets colder. I head toward one of the tables, not bothering to check if Roderick is following.
Luckily, the sun is bright today, and the wood of the table soaks up the warmth. Settling in my seat, I begin to unpack my lunch, placing all the delicious items I brought for myself out on the table in front of me.
Roderick lowers onto the seat across from mine, his eyes watching my fingers move. He waits until I have everything spread out and I take a bite of my turkey sandwich before he speaks.
“I want you.”
The bread sticks in my mouth, and I have to cough a few times before I can swallow. Sexy, I’m sure.
“You want me?”
Obviously, he’s attracted to me. But Roderick says want like the word means more than a quick fuck to get it out of our systems.
“Why? Since when?”
His eyes hold mine. “Since pie.”
Fuck. Fuck that fucking pie.
“It wasn’t a flirting-with-a-werewolf pie,” I growl as I quickly pull all my food items closer to me so he doesn’t mistake them as gifts. “It was an apology pie.”
“I know.” The corner of his mouth twitches as he watches my movements. “So was mine. Didn’t stop you from mounting me.”
I scowl at him. “I didn’t mount you. I kissed you. You were the one who put me in your lap. And, yes, some … rubbing happened. But no mounting.”
He grunts and shifts in his seat.
Oh gods, is he turned on right now?
I try my best to focus on opening a bag of cookies and not on the memory of how good it felt to have my legs wrapped around his hard, hot body.
“You got off,” he says, as if I need reminding.
After sipping my iced tea to try and cool down, I respond, “I did. But that doesn’t mean I want you.”
Roderick’s face goes blank. He’s taken on his stone persona.
Still, I can’t help feeling like I hurt his feelings. Probably because I just utilized the harshest turn-down.
I don’t want you.
What’s worse is, the words felt like a lie as I spoke them.
To distract myself, I dip a chunk of precut apple in some peanut butter. But that’s as hard to swallow as my sandwich.
Then—because, damn it, I feel bad with him sitting there, all stone-faced, with no snack to pretend to focus on—I sigh and slide the container toward him, offering a few slices of my apple to the werewolf I’m kind of dumping.
Roderick’s mouth softens into a smile as he plucks up a piece of fruit, and I realize my repeated mistake.
“I’m not flirting with you!”
Before I can retract my offer of apples, the beast nabs a second slice, biting into the juicy bit while his eyes remain fixed on me.
Damn it, I really did set this all off with my soggy pie, didn’t I?
Soon after Cory revealed what he was to me, he told me about the werewolf’s mating ceremony. How it involves food, and so werewolves view the exchange of edible items as a form of expressing romantic interest. I should’ve known better.
As I struggle for what to say next, Roderick’s expression fades into curiosity. He tilts his head in a dog-like way, sharp eyes searching. “You really don’t want me?”
Even if I do, it doesn’t matter.
I clear my throat. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t want anyone. Anyone to sleep with, that is. But … I’m always looking for new friends.” Then I try on my friendly you-don’t-really-want-to-sleep-with-me smile.
Roderick studies me for another prolonged moment, and it takes all my willpower not to squirm in my seat.
“Then why did you kiss me?” he asks.
The blush on my cheeks burns hot. “The kiss was a mistake.”
“Didn’t feel like a mistake.”
“Just because something feels good doesn’t mean it’s not a mistake. I’m sure jumping off a cliff feels real neat. It’s just that exploding upon impact that really gets you.”
Roderick appears thoughtful, then offers a nod. “Okay. We’ll put a hold on kissing.”
“Thank you.” Then his words fully register. A hold? “Wait—”
“But we’ll do this.” His rough, warm hand scoops mine up, twining our fingers together.
My brain goes mushy, thoughts sluggish, as if his touch drugs me. “Do what?”
“Date.” Roderick fiddles with my thumb, staring at the digit like my appendage is fascinating. “A relationship.”
A moment passes before his words register. I’m distracted by the heat rolling off him and the tantalizing spicy smell that clings to his clothes. But then the short sentence clarifies in my brain and sets off delayed, but very important, warning bells.