Chapter 2 #2
“He was hovering ,” I say, remembering with some disgust. “Wouldn’t leave, and the awkward silence was getting past awkward into annoying.
Then he asked for my number, and I wanted him to go so much that I didn’t even think of fake numbering him.
I was way off my game.” I shake my head sorrowfully.
“I blame Noah and David and Ellie. I’ve been so worried about them that it’s thrown everything else akimbo. ”
Across the room, Noah snorts. “Akimbo? Seriously? And, dude, don’t be blaming me for your fucked-up dating life. I’ve heard the stories in the break room, and I do not want any association with that.”
I wave a hand nonchalantly, unfortunately smacking Sam in the side of the head. “Those stories are exaggerated,” I assure him. Mostly. Well… there’s one or two I can’t be sure about, due to being drunk out of my mind, but I’m actually happy to own those ones, so…
“I don’t think akimbo is right in that context,” Sam says thoughtfully, as if my choice of words is more important than the fact that I need him to help me.
“Saaaaaaaam. Saaaaaaaam.”
“If you do that again, I’m going to tell Gideon I want the wards up all the time, no exceptions,” Sam warns, still not looking my way.
I pout.
It takes nearly a full minute, and Sam’s not the one who caves first. Noah is.
“For the love of god, what’s it gonna take to get you out of here, Alistair?” he explodes.
“I need help,” I whine again, doubling down on the pout and the puppy dog eyes. I am super adorable and irresistible like this.
“Help blowing off a hookup? Give me your phone and I’ll do it,” Noah demands.
Welp, not going to pass that up. I hop off my chair and cross the room to hand over my phone.
“The unlock code is 658924,” I tell him.
Unlike some people, he doesn’t question why I didn’t unlock it with facial recognition.
Shifters already can’t use code or fingerprint to unlock phones and other digital devices —there’s no point using facial recognition too often and having technology evolve to block us there too.
The machines will one day rise up, and they hate shifters.
Probably because of the cats. We hellhounds are just wonderful.
Noah unlocks the phone and opens the call register. “This one?” he asks, pointing to the number at the top that’s called me five times in three days.
“Yes.” Just looking at it makes me feel glum.
I hate having to reject people. That’s how I ended up sleeping with this guy to begin with.
He initiated a conversation, and before I could politely find a way to end it, he asked if I wanted to get out of the bar, and I…
couldn’t say no. It might have hurt his feelings.
Let nobody ever say that I don’t sacrifice myself for the greater good.
Wait… is sex with strangers to avoid hurt feelings the greater good?
I ask Noah.
He stops tapping away at the phone keyboard and lifts his head to look at me incredulously. “What?”
“Oh fuck, Alistair, just shut the hell up,” Sam groans from his desk. “No, you fucking strangers is not for the greater good. Greater good of what, for fucking fuck’s sake?”
“We need to teach you new expletives,” Andrew observes, piping up for the first time. “Fuck is a good one, but there are other words too.”
Sam flips him the bird. He seems a bit irritable, and I wonder what’s changed since this morning. He should be in a better mood after pancakes, porridge, and my company.
“Here.” Noah thrusts the phone at me. “Done. If he tries calling again after this, just block him.”
I eye him dubiously. I’m not sure I can do that—wouldn’t it hurt his feelings?
Noah rolls his eyes. “Bring the phone to me and I’ll block him.”
That sounds doable. I smile happily and take my phone back, glancing down at Noah's text.
Whoa. I’m pretty sure that hurt his feelings.
I didn’t send it, though, so I don’t have to feel bad about it. Much.
“Thank you,” I say politely as I back away. I’m definitely not going to do anything to get on Noah’s bad side. Andrew must have balls of steel to piss him off all day and then go to sleep beside him at night.
I return to my chair, which is still right next to Sam, and sigh loudly.
Sam makes a sound that’s very close to a sob. “What? What, Alistair? I have a pile of work so huge I can’t even see the bottom of it, and I just found out Gideon is going to be away overnight, so tell me what the hell you want, and let’s get it over with!”
Ohhhhhh. Gideon’s going to be away. That’s why he’s being a little bitch. He lived on his own pretty much from when he was fourteen until about six months ago, but if Gideon’s away for a night, he can’t sleep.
It’s disturbing.
“Let’s have a slumber party! We’ll all come over and keep you company while Gideon’s away. Won’t we, everyone?”
Noah’s eyes are wide and he’s shaking his head in horror, but as soon as Andrew says, “Not us. Noah needs to rest properly,” his face changes.
“Of course we’re going,” he snaps, then cringes. But he doesn’t take it back, and after one glance, Andrew doesn’t argue.
“I really don’t need you all to come over,” Sam says.
“Of course you do! This will be good for us… and not to add to your stress, but tomorrow I’m leaving for Oregon, so this can be like a goodbye party and give you time to soak in my company before I go.”
There’s only a split-second hesitation before Sam says, “ Not a party. No parties. Are we clear on that? If you come over tonight, there will be no party. ”
“No party,” I promise dutifully. It’s not a party when there’re fewer than a dozen people, anyway. This will just be a gathering of friends with food and drink and dancing.
Sam hesitates again, but I know I’ve won him over. He really does hate it when Gideon has an overnight assignment.
“Okay.” He gives in with a sigh. “And you’re leaving for the West Coast tomorrow?”
I nod. “Percy and Aidan want to see if the Oregon pack reacts better to me asking questions than to Aidan.”
“I heard he didn’t have much luck,” Andrew says. “Is he going back with you or staying here or heading home…?”
“He’s coming with me.” I manage to say it without making a face or anything, because I am super awesome, but Sam shifts slightly, so something must have given me away through our super-best-friend bond.
“I guess you need me to help you reassign your cases,” he says, and I smile at him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“You’re my favorite.”
“So you’ve said before,” he replies dryly. “Go away, and I’ll send you an email with the reallocation. Are there any you want to keep?”
“I’ll email you first,” I promise. “Give me five minutes. Then I’ll close out whatever I can before I make the plans for tonight and race home to pack.”
“Plans for tonight?” He sounds alarmed. “There are no plans. Come over. I’ll order takeout. That’s it. That’s all. No plans, Alistair.”
I laugh. “Relax. I just meant I’ll let Ellie and David know in case they want to come. I’ll take care of the takeout too.” Honestly, I don’t know where all this distrust comes from.