7. Stellan
STELLAN
A thunk on the front door while I was in bed reading had me drop the book and leap out of bed.
I wondered if someone had shifted in the building, which was against the rules, because it wasn’t the wind that made that huge noise.
I didn’t need to grab a baseball bat or a lamp because if it was an intruder, I’d let my beast into my gaze and roar at whoever it was. That would scare even a shifter.
Flinging open the door, I was prepared to shout at whoever it was for disturbing me. But a scent, that one, assaulted me before I could get a word out.
Dear gods, no. What was he doing here?
I closed the door behind me, not wanting the noise to wake Indigo, until I remembered she wasn’t here but at Rudy’s for the night. He loved having her stay over.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.
Miles was weaving around, seemingly unable to stay still. He waggled a finger at me but swayed toward the stairwell, and I grabbed him. He giggled but holding him against my body was a huge mistake.
His eyes tried to follow his finger, but he gave up and his head smacked onto my chest.
“Y-You.”
His slurred speech and inability to stand up was a huge red flag, telling me he’d been drinking. And he hadn’t just consumed a beer or glass of wine. He’d had much more than that, and I hoped he hadn’t driven home in the condition.
Miles reared back, though I still had hold of him because humans were such frail creatures and he was likely to hurt himself.
Right. That’s why you have your arms wrapped around him, my bear snarked.
“You are so so so m-m-mean.” He squinted, but I wasn’t sure if he could see me with the alcohol befuddling his brain. “M-ean, mean, mean.”
His head bobbed as he fell forward, and his face was dangerously close to mine. I breathed in his scent, making my poor bear dizzy.
“I get it. I’m mean.”
Miles lay his head on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes because this was what I’d been missing and maybe yearning for without knowing it. I’d pushed away those emotions since Kipp left because I had to parent Indigo. She was my number one priority, and I couldn’t think of my own needs.
But this man awakened those long-buried feelings, and it scared me.
“Are y-you listening to me?” He tried to break free of my gasp.
“Yes.”
“You’re so so good-looking, and that’s not f-fair.” He shook his head. “Nope. That’s very very bad, and it should be l-l-l ummm legal, no, the other one. Ill-Ill-illegal.” He grinned as if he was so proud of himself for getting that out.
Despite my annoyance, I was pleased he was stroking my ego.
“You’re at the wrong apartment.”
“Oh no, you don’t get to confuse me. I’m on the second floor.”
“No. This is the third floor.”
He peered around, but with his human eyesight, I doubted he’d distinguish the difference between the two floors.
“This isn’t my door.” He slapped my chest. “What did you do with my door, you fiend?”
I couldn’t take him inside, and he’d wake everyone up on this floor if I didn’t get him home.
“It’s my door, but I’m going to show you yours.”
He made a silly face and clapped. “Oh, goody.”
I couldn’t point him to the stairs because he’d fall and fracture his skull and it’d be my fault. Placing a hand under his elbow, I steered him toward the stairs. But I changed my mind because he was so unsteady on his feet. Instead, I slung an arm around him and gripped him with my other hand.
Miles chortled and asked why I was cuddling him. “Do you like me?”
“I’m taking care of you.” But as I spoke, I was inhaling the aroma of his shampoo.
Don’t let him fall. My bear was worried I’d let him go and he’d tumble head over heels down the stairs.
Miles didn’t stop talking as we descended.
It was the kind of honesty that came out of a person after their brain was mesmerized with alcohol.
Everyone in the building was mean, apparently.
They sniffed him in the hallway as if he was a suspicious package and then wouldn’t say good morning.
Mrs. Munro had looked at him for eleven seconds without blinking.
Jon liked him, but Jon “didn’t know what time of day it was,” which was a pretty good assessment of Jon.
“And you,” he said as he fumbled in his pocket for the key.
No way was I putting my hand in his front pocket, so we might have been there all night if he hadn’t pulled it out. After a few tries, he finally got the door open.
“You’re the meanest, because you looked at me as though you wanted to commit a crime. And then you left. Who sniffs someone and does that?”
I went very still. “What?”
Miles wobbled toward his couch.
I got him a glass of water as he punched the cushions on the sofa and told them none of them were big enough or soft enough.
“Drink this.”
“I don't want water. I want you to tell me why everyone in this building acts like I’m different.”
“Drink the water first before I'll evaluate the tenants’ crimes.”
He sipped it and eyed me over the rim as if he expected me to disappear.
His cat, the infamous orange one that Indigo had found, appeared and installed herself on the back of the couch. She hissed at me once which wasn’t so much a warning about my identity but more, Look after this man.
When Miles finished the water, though much of it was on his shirt and dribbling down his chin, I put a blanket over him and headed to the door.
No, you can’t leave him. What if he chokes? Humans die from things like that.
He wasn’t wrong because I’d read of that happening.
Miles chose that moment to fling off the blanket and ask me to put him in bed.
That wasn’t happening, though I removed his shoes.
But he staggered to his feet and pulled off his shirt.
I shielded my gaze with my hand as he ran into the bedroom.
I wasn’t going to undress the guy. He could sleep in his pants and socks.
But when I followed him into the bedroom, Miles was already under the covers. His eyes were closed and he was snoring. That was quick.
I got more water and put it on the nightstand and studied the man that the universe matched me with.
“You’re my mate.” I spoke out loud because he’d wanted an answer. This was it. But Miles couldn’t hear me because he was asleep, otherwise I would have kept it to myself.
The cat who’d curled up at Miles’s feet didn’t look impressed.
“I don't know what to do with you being who you are, and me, well, I’m different and so’s Indigo. If I reveal who is inside me, you won’t believe me, and I get it. I probably wouldn’t either if our positions were reversed.”
You’re making a speech. My bear was getting testy because I was no closer to mating Miles than when we met.
The cat yawned as if she too was tired of my long-ass speech.
I pondered how my daughter fit into this, but that was too much thinking and it was late. Wandering into the living room, I got on the sofa, but that felt too intimate. I wasn’t a guest in his apartment. He hadn’t invited me in, and the fabric was still warm from when he’d been lying on it.
Instead I sat in an armchair and stuffed a cushion behind my head.
I’d stay until first light and get out before he knew I was here.
In the morning, he might not remember what he said and did, which would be my preference.
I hated when someone avoided my gaze because of what they’d done when under the influence of alcohol.
I didn’t sleep much and woke often, listening to Miles’s breathing. If he woke, I’d hotfoot it out the front door. But other than talking in his sleep and tossing and turning, Miles didn’t get out of bed.
As the sky brightened, I filled the water glass one last time and left it beside his bed along with a note that read Drink this, not more of what you had last night.
Then I skedaddled. I’d spoken from the heart last night, but I couldn’t face him in the cold light of morning. Besides, he may have no memory of me helping him back to his apartment and I’d have to explain not only how I got here but why I’d spent the night.
I didn't sign the note and had no idea whether he’d know it was from me.