4. Skin & Bones
Chapter Four
Skin & Bones
MILES
I spotted him the second I walked out onto the patio.
He wore a neon green sleeveless tank top and a backward white-and-pink baseball cap, and was sitting across from someone who appeared to be in a pretty engaged conversation with him.
His thin gray shorts were sitting high on his thighs, showing a pale white tan line above his knees that I found insanely attractive.
I quickly considered turning on my heels and walking back the way I came from.
Something inside me shouted for me to do the opposite, but I didn’t want to listen.
It was pointless. He was here with a friend, why would I need to interrupt?
Then I heard something that piqued my interest. Something about jewelry, about slutty gold earrings, about…
Huh. They were talking about me.
Walking away seemed a little less appealing now. Instead, I listened to the tug that pulled me toward Dyl. If he wanted to talk about me while he thought I wasn’t there, then the least I could do was give him some shit about it in return.
“You think my earring is really that slutty?”
Dylan whipped around like someone had shouted “Fire!” from inside the cafe. His cheeks instantly turned a shade of firehouse red. It was actually pretty cute. I kept my smile tamped down, though, wanting to pull his leg a little longer on this.
“I, um—wow—didn’t know you came here.”
“Probably because it’s my first time. I live down the street. Wanted to explore the neighborhood, but maybe I should have taken off my earring beforehand.” I cracked a grin. “Don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”
“That’s fine, sluts are fine. Nothing wrong with that.”
His friend shot a look at Dyl and judging by the way he sat up and the table shook, he also gave him a friendly kick.
“I’m only saying that because I’m kind of slutty, too, so like I get—you know what? I’m going to stop talking now.”
Even with the word vomit about being a part-time slut, Dyl was one of the most charming and disarming men I’d ever come across.
Also, I didn’t mind a freaky side.
Not that I was looking for that or anything. Especially not with Dyl.
“Good idea,” his friend said. He pushed his chair back and stood up, offering me a hand. “I’m Chris.”
“Miles,” I said, returning the handshake.
“You’re our team’s new trainer, huh?”
“I am.” I didn’t realize Chris was another Bobcat, but I should have probably assumed. Hockey boys tended to hang out in packs. It also reminded me that I had to get home and work on memorizing the roster before meeting everyone else.
Dyl stood up and offered his hand to shake, too.
I smiled at that. He’d been in my arms—albeit by accident—only a couple days ago.
Felt a little odd giving him a “bro-shake” when a hug seemed more appropriate.
His grip was firm around mine. His palm was calloused, fingers large.
His cheeks were still burning red but his eyes were sunshine-bright and locked onto mine.
He had one of those looks that made me feel momentarily stripped down to nothing but skin and bones.
I pried my gaze away from him. Chris took his seat and pulled out the one next to him, motioning toward it. “Join us if you’re free.”
Now it was Dylan’s turn to give his friend a look. This one seemed to read “Um, what are you doing?” while Chris returned a “Don’t worry, I’ve got this” glance.
“I’ve got some errands to run,” I replied. “Was just exploring my new neighborhood. I won’t intrude on your very riveting discussion about me.”
“Please, I insist,” Chris said as he tapped the seat.
Dylan was silent and slowly regaining his regular complexion, his cheeks only a subtle pink now as opposed to cherry red. He flipped his cap forward so that his eyes were shaded from the sun.
I didn’t really have any errands to run.
I was already unpacked and settled at my new place, with a full fridge and freshly folded laundry.
Again, my curiosity to get to know Dyl—and possibly fuck with him some more, get those cheeks red again—outweighed my desire to go wander off by myself.
What would it hurt if I sat down and chatted with them for a little?
“So, do we want to stay on the topic of my earrings?” I said, this time giving them a wink as I sat, showing them I wasn’t really bothered by it.
Chris laughed and Dyl looked like he wanted to melt down into a puddle and disappear into a sewer grate. “Let’s move on to something else,” Chris suggested. “How are you liking Burlington so far?”
“Loving it,” I replied.
“Where are you coming from?” Dylan asked.
“Philly.”
“Oh nice, we’ve traveled there for games. Great city,” Chris said.
“It is, but there’s something about the energy here in Burlington that I like.
” I looked to my side, where Dylan sat trying to look very interested in his lemonade, and for a brief moment I wondered if it was only the energy I found attractive about this city.
“I’m also happy to have so much nature around.
Didn’t really get that in Philadelphia.”
“I see that,” Chris said. I cocked my head.
Emmy had said there were a couple of shifters on the hockey team, although I couldn’t remember if he said Chris was one of them.
He smelled different—woodsy mixed with mulled spices—and that was sometimes a sign of another shifter, but it also could have been because they just finished a workout.
Dylan leaned forward, as if reading my mind, and said in a hushed tone, “Chris is one of us.”
Ah. There was my answer.
“Then you definitely understand why I love being so close to the woods.”
“I do, I do,” Chris said. “Is there a shifter population in Philly?”
“There is, but not really many wolves. I was friends with a couple cat shifters and a fox shifter. Big druid population, too. Emmy’s sister, she’s up there. One of the first friends I made. It’s how I got close with Emmy, actually. Back when he lived there.”
Dylan cocked his head. “How did I not know Macie was a druid?”
“Because you have the attention span of a goldfish,” Chris noted playfully. “And I’m talking about the snack kind not even the real kind.”
“I do love me some goldfish snacks. Once you pop you can’t—”
“Not the right jingle,” Chris noted.
“Well, it should be,” Dylan said, crossing his arms with a huff. His biceps were huge. There was definition there that could only have come from plenty of hard work and dedication.
“I agree,” I said, smiling at Dyl. “It does fit.”
He arched the brow with a white streak cutting across it. It was one of the most interesting birthmarks I’d seen. Like a master painter dipped a brush in white paint and placed a perfect line across his face. It made an already interesting and alluring man even more so.
I briefly pictured myself tracing that line with my thumb, following it as it crossed his forehead and continued across the side of his head, where I’d slide my hand behind it and steer him in the direction of my lips.
“Anyways,” Chris said, dragging me out of my inappropriate thoughts. “I’ve got to go, I promised Soren I’d help him paint his deck today.”
“Didn’t you guys already finish that last weekend?” Dyl asked.
Chris gave a slightly forced smile, his eyes opening fractions of an inch wider. “Still needs touchups.”
Dyl seemed skeptical about that but didn’t question it further.
I started to dig through my own set of fictional excuses to leave.
Not that I wanted to. No, no. If I followed the desire to feed the warm embers that sparked in my core then I’d have sat here all day with Dylan until we came up with a reason to end up somewhere private.
He was everything that I looked for in a guy—physically, for sure, and I could already tell his personality was golden too.
Golden retriever, to be exact, which was ironic when his other form was that of a timber wolf more known for biting and snarling than wagging his tail for a treat.
“Do you have anywhere to go?” Dylan asked once Chris said his goodbyes and left. He had his head angled just right so that his square jawline was highlighted by a ray of golden sunlight. His pulse beat ever so gently only a couple millimeters below.
“Nope.” I made my decision without a second thought. I’d hang out with Dyl for a little while longer. It wouldn’t hurt to possibly make a new friend in my new hometown.
I just had to make sure this stayed in the friend zone and didn’t grow into anything more.
“So,” Dylan said, leaning back in his seat, one arm resting casually on the back of it. His bicep flexed. My salivary glands kicked into high gear. “Physical therapy, huh? What made you get into that?”
Pfft. Talk about a simple question that had one hell of a complicated answer.
I didn’t want to bog him down with all the dramatic and traumatic details of my past, so I decided to keep it relatively simple.
“I love helping people. Love sports, too. Not playing but watching. Always did. Plus, I love science and health which all went hand in hand.”
He nodded and looked out at the quiet field of wildflowers.
His attention seemed homed in on a couple of bumblebees that were drifting through the air searching for their next flower to pollinate.
I remembered that first evening meeting him and how the threat of a bee sting had him falling into my arms.
“How about you?” I asked, wanting to distract him from his perceived threat. “What got you into hockey?”
“My cousin, Benji, did. He loved the sport, wanted me to play with him. We’d play street hockey all the time in the cul-de-sac I lived in. I’d been wanting to get into a sport and figured I’d try it. Fell in love the second I got out onto the ice.”
“Nice. Does your cousin still play?”
He shrugged, his attention back to the bees. “Not sure. We stopped talking years ago. Family drama.” His tone was heavy even though his body posture and expression were trying to read as nonchalant.
“Damn, sorry. I get that. Families are complicated.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What happened?” I asked. Getting to know a little more about Dylan was a friend thing to do. Nothing more.
He swirled his half-empty glass of lemonade and took a drink.
I hoped I didn’t come across as nosy. Making new friends was an art I wasn’t quite good at.
I tended to be a loner when it came to my personal life.
My prickly and closed-off attitude didn’t necessarily lend itself to being a social butterfly.
It’s why I valued my friendship with Emmy so damn much.
I was glad we were back in the same city together.
Dylan cleared his throat. “My family was always pretty tight. Everything seemed perfect. Christmas and Thanksgiving, hell, even Halloween was always an excuse for the fam to get together and hang out. Me and Benji were like brothers. Close in age, liked the same things. Super close. And then… well, then my dad cheated on my mom and the fallout from that completely fucked everything up. He was my cousin from my dad’s side and so when my scummy father disappeared, so did my cousin.
I think my dad may have said some shit to him.
Not sure, but I know that I haven’t talked to him since the divorce.
Haven’t talked to anyone from my dad’s side, even my grandma. ”
The pain was evident in his voice. Dyl had a way of exuding positivity—I could tell that even though we hadn’t interacted much—so it was a stark contrast when that usual ray of sunshine in his eyes was dimmed.
And I found that I didn’t like it. Not at all.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. Unfortunately I couldn’t offer him anything more than that. It seemed to be enough to bring back a little bit of that light, though.
“It’s okay. I’m a big believer that everything happens for a reason.
My cousin was my best friend, and I hate that I lost him.
But I think that maybe if we had stayed close, I wouldn’t have moved away from my hometown, wouldn’t have found my way onto the Bobcats team, and wouldn’t have found my pack.
I’m big on being comfortable. Sometimes a little too much.
So that shake-up made me want to get out and push myself. ”
“That’s a really good way to look at it.”
“Thanks. Credit goes to Cassandra Vivek, my therapist extraordinaire who is like a freaking anxiety-whisperer. Not that her whispers make me anxious, just that she can—okay, you get what I mean.”
Dylan started to chuckle, and I quickly joined in. “Imagine a therapist whispering to make their patients anxious so they never run out of clients. Wouldn’t that be wild?” Dylan said.
That had me laughing even harder. “Honestly, you might be onto something there. Could be a good business venture.”
My phone, which was sitting face up on the table, vibrated and pulled my attention for a moment. I was going to quickly swipe away the notification and pocket the phone, continuing to enjoy my time with my new friend—and friend only.
But something happened that made me freeze in place.
A random number appeared on my screen with a preview of the message attached to it. My chest clenched hard enough to snap ribs. It was as if the world was picked up off its axis and thrown three galaxies away. Everything violently spun. My stomach felt ready to empty itself.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy fuck.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hi! Hope your move to Burlington is going well, my love. I know I’m going to enjoy the change of scenery myself.
Even though I didn’t have the number stored in my phone, I knew exactly who this message was from.
My stalker. Someone who had latched onto me from afar and made my life a fucking living hell the last four years.
Someone who appeared to be completely untraceable and who was completely infatuated with me.
So much so that they sabotaged any relationship I had, threatened me with a silver bullet to the heart whenever I blocked a number, sent me pictures of myself sleeping with an iron collar photoshopped around my neck, and called it true love.
It was one of the reasons why this Burlington move had come at such a perfect time. I could keep things as quiet as possible—only telling the people closest to me about it—and disappear into the night, starting a new life away from the shadow of this unhinged lunatic.
But it didn’t work.
They knew where I was.
They were going to follow me here.
Running from this problem wasn’t going to solve it.
Suddenly, a referral to Ms. Vivek’s office sounded extremely appealing.