9. Shane
Chapter 9
Shane
W ith everyone gone my apartment seems emptier than usual, the loneliness more stifling. I know holding back was the right choice, even if I regret Kaycia’s absence now. I don’t want to start something with her if it’s going to just be a fling. Even if the attraction is mutual, I don’t want to end up making a mistake and having to face her every day after a one-night stand. She’s kind and funny, not to mention gorgeous. Her scent still lingers in my kitchen, honeysuckle and the faint hint of paint. Just thinking about her in my arms makes me groan. I wasn’t lying when I told her I wanted her, but I’ll wait until we have a date to get to know each other one-on-one before we take it any further.
The night has cooled off and a pleasant breeze blows from the riverside and down the tunnel of buildings. It snakes through my cracked sliding door and beckons me to return to the balcony for another beer. The melody of Kaycia’s music drifts from her balcony. She must still have a window open. I close my eyes and imagine that I’m at my cabin, picturing Kaycia there beside me on the deck with the song on the radio and the wind in the trees.
Weary from the week, I finish my drink and stand to head inside when my ears focus on an unusual sound from Kaycia’s. As if my wolf has attuned to her more than usual after our kiss. If I shifted, my ears would be pricked forward to listen. A low mechanical buzzing starts, accompanied by a breathy gasp, then a moan. My face heats. So does my belly.
Another moan follows soon after, and a sigh of pleasure drifts out on the breeze.
Oh, gods. I know exactly what she’s doing.
I cannot be hearing this.
Now all I can think of is how I want to wring those sounds from her lips the next time we’re together. I tell my feet to move. To go inside, close the door, and shove my head under a pillow to block out the sounds. But all forward motion is stalled when I hear her whisper my name.
Fuck . Is she imagining me while she touches herself?
Heat builds in my chest and my wolf preens with satisfaction. My cock doesn’t give a shit that she’d probably think I’m a creep for standing here listening to her pleasure herself. Instead, it strains against my zipper when I hear her soft cry as she climaxes.
Breathing hard, I force myself into my apartment and turn on the shower. I tell myself I’ll run the water on cold and think about sports, capital cities, or anything else, to calm my desires. But memories of Kaycia’s soft body pressed against mine urging me for more, the electricity between us, and her mouth opening for my kiss take center stage. The sound of my name whispered while she came undone keeps my hand from turning the water to cold.
Under the hot spray of the shower, I wrap my familiar palm around my cock, wishing it was Kaycia’s smooth grip instead. Her scent should have rinsed off under the spray, but I can’t get it out of my mind as I bring myself to the edge, shuddering and biting back a groan as I come. I stand there panting, letting the water sluice over me with my forehead pressed to the slick tile wall, just like I pressed it to hers earlier.
This wasn’t the way I expected things to go at all when I invited her over this afternoon.
It’s going to be hard to wait all week to see her again.
* * *
T he rest of the weekend passed in a blur. I went into the shop the morning after Kaycia and I kissed to take care of a few pieces of end-of-the-month bookkeeping and finish my work on one of the bikes for a regular customer to pick up on Monday. I haven’t seen her since she slipped through her apartment door Friday evening. I know she’s been home because I hear the low tones of her music here and there, but I’ve fought the urge to knock on her door each time I’m on the landing and to keep myself from wondering what else she’s doing with only a wall between us.
Now, it’s Wednesday, and I’ve listened to Raquel tease me about my crush for days. “You know you have to speak with her to make dinner plans, right?” Raquel digs at me while cleaning up her workspace and standing back to admire the newest modifications to her bike.
“I know that, Quel. Thank you. Despite what you think, I have gone on a date before.” I plan on texting her after work, but that isn’t soon enough for Raquel’s taste.
“I just don’t know why you sent her away! It’s obvious that she’s into you, and it’s more than obvious you’re into her. You practically snarled at Max for flirting with her.”
She’s not wrong. Even if I try to stave off my wolf’s instinct to protect what I wish to claim as mine, it rises up beyond my control sometimes. Precisely why I keep to myself. Why I stay home instead of going to bars where drunk assholes do stupid shit that can get me in trouble.
“I sent her away because I’m not going to take advantage of my tipsy neighbor just because she’s had a shitty day and I have a crush on her,” I explain.
“Ah ha! You admit that you have a crush, then!” Raquel practically does a cheer routine at the admission.
Groaning, I scrub my hand over my eyes. “Yes, for fuck’s sake, Quel. I have a fucking crush, okay? I’m like a damn pup, mooning after the girl next door. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly what I want to hear, you grumpy asshole!” Raquel is gleeful, her shiny black ponytail flicking behind her as she bounces around. “Jamila and I want you to be happy, you jerk. You’re lonely . Just because you aren’t part of a pack doesn’t?—”
“Stop.”
“What?” She pauses, brow furrowing as her joy fades to seriousness.
“Don’t mention the pack.”
“I just think it’s time you stop beating yourself up, it’s been almost ten years and?—”
“Quel, enough . I don’t want to talk about it.” My hands clench into fists without me even realizing it as I grind out the words.
Raquel doesn’t mean any harm, but my past belongs buried in the woods near Woodbine Hollow where I left it. Taking a deep breath, I roll my neck and shake out the tension, ignoring the ache of yearning for my family that knots there. “I’m sorry. I just don’t need a reminder of why I keep to myself. What I’m risking taking a human woman on a date. If anything, it should make me reconsider it, no matter how I may feel about her.”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t even think about canceling on her. I saw the way you were looking at one another. This might be your chance, Shane.” Raquel speaks softly now, approaching me with caution before placing a tan, tattooed hand on my forearm. “Don’t fuck it up already. Remember, Max and I will be there. We might not be wolves, but we both know to be on alert for you, okay? We have your back. Just promise you’ll bring her.”
“I know. And you’re right, I do like her.” Looking up at the ceiling, I let out a deep breath. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there as long as she doesn’t cancel on me.”
“Oh, I don’t think she will. Not after you left her hanging.” Raquel is teasing again, giving me a light punch to my shoulder as she skips away to examine her bike. “I’ll lock up tonight, why don’t you go on home?”
“Sounds good. See you tomorrow, Quel.”
* * *
I realized when I got outside the shop and started to text, that I didn’t have Kaycia’s number, forcing me to interrupt her evening in person to confirm the weekend’s plans. It only takes three little knocks before I hear soft footfalls on the wood flooring within, then the flap of the peephole as she looks to see who’s waiting. When Kaycia opens the door, I fight to keep my jaw from dropping. I haven’t seen her since Friday night, and I hadn’t realized how much I was craving the sight of her. Her long blonde waves are braided in one long plait down her back and all she’s wearing is an oversized shirt with… something underneath. It’s hard to tell without staring whether they’re tight-fitting shorts or underwear, but I swallow the desire that surges through me and force myself to look at her face. Nowhere else.
“Hi, stranger!” she says, stepping out of the way and waving me through the threshold. Her apartment smells like paint and candles, and her —a sweet floral scent that I’ll probably never get out of my head. “Just getting home from work?”
She closes the door behind me and leads the way through the little foyer and into the open studio that mirrors mine. Walking behind her, I can’t help but sneak a glance as her toned legs peek from under the hem of the shirt, the barest hint of black shorts showing.
“Yeah, I wanted to check in with you about the plans on Friday, but”—I hold up my phone—“I don’t have your number. So, here I am.”
“What’s yours?” She snags her own phone off the counter, swiping the screen and looking at me expectantly. “I’ll text you mine.”
Smiling, I rattle off the digits and wait as she smirks, typing quickly, then looks up at me fluttering her lashes, biting her lip.
A moment later my notifications buzz with a text from a string of digits waiting to be programmed.
555-567-8901
Can’t wait to pick up on Saturday where we left off on Friday night. ;)
I grin, wishing we could pick up where we left off right now.
“Something funny?” Kaycia asks, eyes wide with innocence.
“No,” I answer with a feigned look of nonchalance. “I’m just waiting for your text. I think this one might have been from someone else.”
She laughs, approaching to give me a half-hearted smack to the shoulder. “ Jerk .” Her laugh turns into a little gasp of surprise when I snag her wrist before she can pull it back, moving quicker than she expected, and pulling her closer to me. Faster than a human would have.
Shit.
My grip is loose and gentle on her wrist as I stroke my thumb over the pulse point on the underside. I can feel her heart rate increase and can smell her scent change to one of arousal as I hold on. She could move back easily if she wanted to, but she doesn’t. She leans closer, her pulse thrumming under my fingers, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink as she swallows and looks up into my face. I can’t help but press a light kiss to the underside of her wrist, stepping even closer so our chests brush against one another.
Leaning forward, I whisper against the shell of her ear, “I’m looking forward to Saturday, too,” pleased when I see goosebumps rise on her arms. “I thought we could grab dinner first. Would you prefer to walk or ride?”
“Your motorcycle?” she steps back, eyes wide as though she’s startled by the offer.
“Or we can call for a car?”
“I’ve… never ridden a motorcycle. I’m not sure I’m up for that just yet.”
“Well, sounds like I’ll have to make sure you’ll want a second date then, won’t I? Don’t worry, I promise I’ll go slow.” Her cheeks flare with heat and her scent changes just enough to know she likes me being this close. I can’t seem to pull away, to let go of her soft wrist, but I force myself to unwrap my fingers and step back. She chuckles, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“You’ll have to impress me to get me on that thing.” She winks, cheeks blazing even redder when she murmurs under her breath, “And maybe I don’t want you to go slow.”
If she only knew how much effort it’s taking me to not pull her into my arms and kiss her until she begs me for more, she wouldn’t have added that. I inhale sharply and blink my eyes closed, hoping they remain a plain—human—hazel.
“Want to see what I’ve been up to?” she asks, snapping my attention back to the present and turning toward her easel overlooking the balcony and the city beyond. The tension between us doesn’t quite dissipate, but it’s not as thick with the added space between us. Not as urgent.
My eyes are drawn to the painting I noticed before, the twinkling stars filling my nights while real ones don’t. She’s added the figure of a lithe woman outlined amongst them in white. Her face isn’t visible, but she looks like she’s made of moonlight amongst the golden starbursts.
A new canvas is on the easel, smeared with the colors of the sunset, just like the evening we sat on the balcony together. The paint is still wet. Bright. Vivid. The scent is pungent to my overly sensitive nose, a scent I’m beginning to associate with her as much as the floral of her perfume.
“These are beautiful,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off the paintings. “Are they for the exhibition?”
“Hopefully,” she sighs. “I’m tying them all together by the sky. Sunset, midnight, dawn. You, uh, you might have inspired this one.” She gestures to the half-finished one on the easel.
“Oh, did I?” My heart flutters a little in my chest, pleased that she’s been thinking of me. When I glance over, a pretty blush stains her cheeks.
“Yeah, the whole sunset daydreams thing I said the other day. I see you out on your balcony watching the sunsets, watching the full moon. I—” she stops, twisting her hands in her shirt as though she’s embarrassed.
“What?” I press, turning to look at her fully.
“I never wanted to bother you when I saw you out there, you always look so far away. So lonely. Like you miss someone.”
The happy flutter in my heart transforms into nervousness at her observation. I never realized I was so lost in thought or that she ever noticed me.
“I just miss home sometimes.” It’s not a lie. It’s not the entire truth either, but I’m not ready to discuss my past with her yet.
“Yeah. I get that,” she murmurs, looking at her fingers nervously.
“Hey—” I step forward, tugging her hand away from her hem and holding it in mine to draw her attention back from wherever it’s drifted. “Let’s not go down that path just yet. Tell me about this one?” I point at a smaller painting that’s propped against another wall, hoping to change the subject and keep her mind from wandering to less pleasant places.
She brightens, pushing back a stray strand of hair before launching into the inspiration for the piece, captivating me as dusk overtakes the world outside.