29. Monica

29

MONICA

A ll right, this time I'll get it right.

I pulled the last match out of the box, glared at the unlit logs that I'd carefully placed, and swiped the wooden match on the striker. The match flickered to life with a sizzle, and I moved it to the kindling that I had put in the exact place I thought it was supposed to be. A breeze came down the chimney and the match flickered then went out.

"Damn it," I cursed.

All I had wanted was to enjoy a drink beside the roaring flames. I'd learned since moving here that watching them leap and lick the walls of the fireplace was one of the most relaxing sights I had ever seen. Alas, with a drifting mind and a heart full of doubt, starting a fire turned out to be much too difficult. All I had to show for my efforts was a singed thumb and an empty matchbox.

Frustrated, I tossed the now empty matchbox into the fireplace. Maybe it would inspire the logs to burn like I wanted. Then I remembered that there was another box of matches in my car, so I walked out of the house to the car. I wanted to have them to hand just in case I decided to have another go at lighting a fire later.

I leaned in through the driver's side then remembered I'd put them in the glove box. I had to crawl in to get into that the little compartment, but they were where I'd left them. I got out, but as I closed the door, I heard a similar sound echoing it.

I quickly glanced around and spotted Raul. He had parked on the street in front of my house and was standing beside a black pickup truck. He didn't see me at first, staring intently at my front door then striding up the sidewalk towards it with a bouquet in his grasp. The light from my living room illuminated the bouquet, and I saw that the flowers were lilies. That brought a smile to my face.

Just like last time. Only, this time, my ex isn't here.

He was halfway up the steps, still focused on the door when I decided to let him know I wasn't inside. I wasn't sure I was ready for this. I was still angry at him. Angry, hurt, or, well both. He was either going to trust me or he wasn't. And if he wasn't, then there wasn't going to be an us.

"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," I said, a good neutral statement.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned with a look of surprise on his face. An easy smile turned on, which then faded when he met my own, more serious gaze. He motioned with the flowers before pulling them closer to himself.

"Because of the way we left things yesterday?" he asked, knowing the answer before he spoke.

"Yeah," I said, nodding with regret.

"Yeah," he said, raising the flowers and then dropping them to his side. "Me too. Look… I'm…"

I waited for him to finish the sentence, but when he didn't, I finally broke.

"Yeah?"

He raised his eyes until they met mine. We stared at each other for a long moment while my heart beats raced faster and faster. His mouth opened then shut but I couldn't take my eyes off it. His lips, the memory of how they tasted, the way they felt, was burning in my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Monica," he said.

The words were so soft it was barely more than a whisper, but I heard them. They roared into my head and burned through the anger and the upsets. He shook his head, then held out the flowers. I took a step closer, inevitably drawn into him as if he's the gravity well of a planet and I was caught in his orbit.

"If I'm being honest," I said, reaching out and taking the flowers. "I think I should have stayed at least a little bit longer."

"Heh," he puffed, letting go of the flowers. He watched as I raised them and took a deep inhale. "You were right to complain. I should have been more forward, I should have trusted you."

The scent of the lilies filled my nostrils. The delicate, sweet floral was heady in its way, and as I inhaled again, there was a hint of spice with a touch of something citrusy. I closed my eyes to enjoy them, letting the fragrance clear my head as much as anything.

"Yes," I agreed, but I smiled as I said it. "You should have."

When I opened my eyes, he'd come even closer. We're inches apart and the flowers were in very real danger of being crushed between us.

"Monica," he said my name in that deep, husky, breathy voice that made my knees weak and reason fly at the sound of it. "I'm sorry, I?—"

"Apology accepted," I interrupted, a smile bursting upon my lips. "Come on, come in."

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden mood change, but how could I stay mad at him? I didn't want to be mad, I wanted to fuck him. That's right, careful, prudent, prudish me wanted to fuck this man like there was no tomorrow. Feelings, emotions, and hurts be damned, I wanted what I wanted.

I lead the way into the house, consciously putting a little extra sway into my step just in case my intention wasn't already clear to him.

"Mon, there's something else, too," he said as he stepped into my living room.

I sashayed on through to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers.

"Yeah?" I asked over my shoulder.

He followed me into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to lean against the jam. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"The mating thing, I'm going to place it aside." I find a vase and was going to the sink to fill it with water when he said that. I paused, turning to look at him. "I realize it's a bit too much, you know. For you. It's, this, all of, us, it's a lot."

I blinked several times, then frowned.

"You can do that?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I'm the Alpha," he said as if that explained everything.

I arched an eyebrow and snorted.

"Just like that?"

"Sure, why not?" he asked with a wry grin.

I stared for a long moment in disbelief at his casual causativeness then I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Phew…" I said with a heavy exhale while pretending to wipe sweat off my brow. "That is a huge relief. You big, mighty Alpha you."

His confusion was clear in the way his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his grin twisted to something more resembling a frown.

"You're playing?" he asked.

I laughed loudly this time.

"Some," I admitted.

"Well, Doctor," he said, striding forward with a confident swagger. He put his hands on my waist then enclosed me in his arms. I didn't resist. "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I don't?" I asked, playing coy while batting my eyelashes at him. "What would I, a mere human, do without you?"

Then he chuckled, playing into the game with me. He shook his head and his eyes flashed brightly.

"You're the first human I've ever dated," he admitted. "There are likely tons of things I don't know about you or your kind."

"Little ol' me?" I asked and he snorted.

"I'm serious Monica," he said.

"And I'm not?" I asked but the fun was draining away because there was still a lot between us that had to be worked out. I dropped the act, shifting one hand to rest on his chest just over his heart. "You're right. There's a lot we don't know."

"Honestly, I thought you were a lot simpler than you really are. I was wrong and I'm sorry for it."

"Simple? Me? You really are a bit dense, aren't you? I'm as about as complicated as a girl can get."

He grinned and there was a wolfish, desirous gleam to it.

"I think I like complicated," he said. "At least where you're concerned."

"Good, because that's me," I said, but it came out in a whisper. His musk was heady, making me feel light and fuzzy at the same time. Hormones were flooding my brain, drowning out the more serious thoughts that needed to happen, but maybe not right then.

"I'm in," he said, his voice rich and husky.

"Let's make a deal," I suggested, gazing up into his eyes, my heart racing. "You help me learn more about shifters. I help you learn more about humans. How does that sound?"

"I'll take that deal, but you should know that it's not so fair to you. Shifters are not that complicated. There's not that much to learn about them."

"Well right at this moment there's only one shifter I'd like to learn more about," I said, rising onto my toes and stealing a kiss from his lips.

He didn't waste time pulling me tight. Feelings of sweet anticipation rushed down my spine. I couldn't wait for him to take me to bed and show me what it was like to be touched by a real man.

Just as he tilted his head down and our lips were almost touching, he whipped his head to the right. He stared at the wall, as if he were attempting to look through it. In a flash, he spun around and ran towards the window in the corner.

Fear and suspicion spoiled the mood and ruined the plans I had only begun to form for that night. I followed him through the living room. My heart pounded faster for an entirely different reason now. He motioned for me to stay away from the window, so I mimicked him, pressing myself against the wall beside it.

When I peeked out, I discovered that neither of us had to rely on seeing anything because a howl ripped through the wilderness. I may not have understood what the actual message was, but the heartbreaking sound communicated enough. And I saw the effect it had on Raul as it called to his second nature.

"I've got to go," he said, bursting away from his spot. "Don't go anywhere. It's not safe for you out there tonight."

I shouted his name as he stormed towards the door. He didn't even pause, though, bursting out of the house leaving a trail of clothing as he ran. The sounds of his transformation rang in my ears. That distinct noise which sounded like a firing machine gun spitting needed no explanation. He was going straight into the jaws of peril. Again.

Without so much as a by your leave. This is what life with him would be. This isn't a one-time event, it's a preview.

Heart heavy, I shut the door and went to the kitchen. I needed a drink. Maybe two.