by C. J. Ayers
He looked at her and shrugged. "I better get back out there." It was all he could think to say. He ran onto the field, leaving Kristin with her mouth hanging open.
Chapter 4
Kristin was waiting for Derrick when he got out of the showers. They'd won against the Cowboys and the team was already celebrating. Derrick walked past her like she wasn't there. Why did he insist on treating her like an alien? She remembered the way her hand used to feel when he held it in his. How hot his skin used to be...
"Way to go tonight Doc," Coach said coming up to her and slapping her on the back. "You're some kind of miracle worker. I coulda sworn Wellborn was out for the season when they brought him back here. You're a goddamn genius." He slapped her back again and walked off.
"Derrick," she said when he walked past her again. She grabbed his arm to stop him. "We need to talk."
Derrick looked where her hand was clutching his arm. A steady stream of heat radiated from the spot. He looked at Kristin. Her eyes were round and full, almost as full as her breasts, and he saw the spark in them when he put his hand over hers and lifted her fingers off him, one by one. He took a deep breath. He had to calm this rush of energy that was coursing through his veins.
Maybe it's better to just tell her. She already knows something's up...
"Can you meet me at Palidio's in an hour?" he asked. Palidio's was the preferred pub for his new team. She nodded, reminding herself to breathe. When he'd touched her hand, her heart had stopped. Her brain couldn't think straight around him. If he'd asked her to be the stickup man in a bank heist he'd planned, she would've said yes. She would've done anything just to get him to touch her again.
"One hour. See you there," he said, then hurried out before she could ask any more questions.
***
Palidio's was crowded. The whole team was there. Kristin and Derrick sat in a back booth, as far from the team as they could get, which wasn't very far. Tate and the others saw them cozying up together and decided to leave them alone for now.
"So?" Kristin said, waiting. She sipped at a scotch and soda, watching Derrick closely. His eyes were bright blue, almost too blue for the dim lighting of Palidio's. How could they shine in shadows?
Derrick wasn't comfortable being so close to Kristin. She smelled like vanilla and every time he got near her the hair on his arms stood up like soldiers at attention. He wasn't sure he could continue to keep his distance, and that worried him. He'd nearly dropped the ball earlier because he'd caught her scent on the wind when he turned for the catch. It could've cost them the game. Maybe once he told her the truth, she'd want nothing to do with him, like her parents. It was the best chance he had to get rid of her. Derrick took a deep breath. "You remember the last time we saw each other?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"I was holding your hand at Venice Beach, and you kept telling me how hot it was. You thought I had a fever, that I was sick. Then you said my eyes looked funny and you were afraid I was about to pass out."
"That's a pretty detailed account for someone who couldn't remember my name a few days ago," she said, narrowing her eyes.
He looked down at his own drink, his cheeks going pink. Kristin thought he was adorable when he was embarrassed. "I lied, okay?" he said.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I was just—I couldn't believe it was you. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid... you'd distract me."
That wasn't the answer she was expecting. "Distract you from what?"
"The game," he said, as if that should have been obvious. "From beating Randy Wolfe's record. I was afraid you might jinx me."
Things were starting to make sense now. All sports guys were superstitious. She'd learned that long ago. "So you ignored me instead?"
He nodded. This wasn't going well. The longer they talked, the less Derrick wanted her to leave. What if he did scare her away? What if, after all these years, he lost the only chance he'd have to be with her again? Was sacrificing Kristin more important that beating Wolfe's record? Two hours ago, he'd been certain it was. Now, as he stared into the butterscotch flecks of her eyes and admired the fullness of her waist as she slid into the booth, he wasn't so sure. As they'd been talking, their fingers had moved closer and closer together. They were almost touching now. A buzz began to grow between them, so strong Derrick thought he could almost see tendrils of energy shoot from her fingertips to his.
"So what does this have to do with your knee?" she asked, trying not to get distracted by the smell of Derrick's aftershave—like a woodsy forest—or the texture of his skin—like golden glass.
Derrick took a deep breath and looked around the pub. "The last time you saw me... I was going through a change."
She lifted an eyebrow. "What sort of change?"
He evaded the question. "My parents told yours what was going on. They thought your folks would understand," he shook his head. "They didn't."
"What sort of change?" she asked again, more forcefully.
She looked at him across the table and his eyes turned from the bright blue she'd been mesmerized by to a golden orange, to the color of a tree top, back to blue. The fingernails on his right hand, which were pressed against the table, extended towards her then shrunk back down. Something clicked. She hadn't grown up surrounded by books on the paranormal, with parents who thought they were psychic detectives, and not picked up a thing or two.
"You're a werewolf," she whispered. Her heart fluttered and her breath changed from the quick, nervous pulse of infatuation to the sharp intake of fear.
He shook his head. "Not exactly." He was watching her closely, afraid she'd run. He stretched his hand over hers, gluing it to the table. She flinched, but then laced her fingers with his. "Don't be scared."
Kristin wanted to run. Everything she knew about werewolves said they were dangerous man-eaters. But Derrick didn't look dangerous, he looked... nervous. "Not a werewolf?" she asked. "Then what?" She couldn't believe she was buying into any of this. She'd always thought her parents were crazy. But his eyes... his knee... It had definitely been broken. She'd felt the pieces popping out behind his skin.
"A panther."
Her jaw dropped and her glass fell towards the floor. Derrick reached out with lightning speed and caught it like it was a feather. "Oh my God," she said, trying not to raise her voice. Her eyes gleamed. Her blood burned with a strange heat that made her want to flee, but also made curiosity overshadow any fear she currently had. When she spoke, her voice was strong and steady—"Show me."
Chapter 5
Derrick and Kristin slipped out of the pub and started walking. Neither of them were familiar enough with the city yet to know where the good hangout spots were, so they just walked in silence until they came to a small park. Two swings and a merry-go-round, no slide. Kristin sunk into a swing and pumped twice with her feet, then let the swing sort of roam over the dirt, too slow to lift her, too fast to just lie still.
"Funny that we're both back on the West Coast," Derrick said, taking the swing next to hers. He sat in it without moving.
"I'm not back," she said. "I never left." There was a bitter edge to her voice that Derrick wished he could wipe away with a kiss. It was dark and the air was warm, which was strange for early winter. The wind whipped around them, a light frenzy of energy seeping into their skin and making them tingle.
Kristin felt like bickering. The longer they sat together, the more she realized she was pissed. "How could you not have written me?" she demanded. When the answer didn't come fast enough, she added, "Maybe you're just no good at geography. You think Washington is the West Coast. That must've made L.A. Mexico."
He watched her in the darkness. She was cute when she was mad.
"I did write," he said.
"What? When?" She snapped her head towards him.
"For the first six months I wrote every day. I thought you didn't write back because you'd moved on. That's what my parents said. Then one day I found my letters, still stamp
ed, rubber banded together in a shoe box in my mom's closet."
Kristin's jaw fell open. At least now she could pinpoint where to direct her rage. "So it's your parents I hate. Not you?"
Derrick grinned. "You don't hate me."
"Yes I do." She turned her head and pretended to be extraordinarily interested in the rust on the swing's chain.
He reached across the space between them and brushed her arm with his fingertips. It was no more than a second's touch, but thick waves of heat shot up her body. She looked back at him and felt the corners of her lips curl up. "Do too hate you," she said, then giggled.
Derrick was glad to see her smile. Her lips were too perfect to frown. They deserved smiles. "Do you know what happened between our parents?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Do you?"
"I think so. When I started changing, my parents thought yours should know. We spent so much time together, they were afraid I might shift in front of you and scare you." He looked at her with apologetic eyes. "It's hard to control when it first happens. Your parents freaked out. I guess it's understandable. I mean... I am a dangerous predator."
He looked at her and wiggled an eyebrow. She giggled.
"So that's it? That's the big secret after all these years? You're a werewo—a were-panther? What the hell do I call you?"
"Derrick's always worked before," he said, and her laughter carried to his ears, a brilliant song in the still, night air.
"So you gonna show yourself panther man? Or does the moon need to be full?"
It was a new moon, bright enough to distinguish Kristin's hair as red, but not so bright that Derrick could pick out the pale gold highlights that wove their way amongst the auburn. Even now, three feet away from her, he was still too far. Unless he could touch her, life was meaningless. Derrick took a heavy breath and let it out. It was now or never.
"Watch the merry-go-round," he said.
Kristin started to open her mouth but shut it when she saw Derrick's hair start to grow. It was already a little shaggy, but as he walked his hair seemed to stretch. By the time he got to the merry-go-round it was past his shoulders. He turned back to her once before sending the merry-go-round into a fast spin. His eyes had turned into gold coins that gleamed in the moonlight.
The merry-go-round spun once, twice, and on the third spin Derrick sent it into circles so fast it reminded Kristin of a tornado. He began to run alongside it, a racecar on its track. She was sure he'd get dizzy and stop, but his speed only increased. His focus intensified. As he ran, his clothes came off. She averted her eyes, but when his torso began to elongate—it almost looked like he was melting—she couldn't pull her eyes away. His face changed. His golden skin grew dark, and when he looked towards her a second later his face was black silk and his eyes were a golden hazel she'd never seen before.
He was running so fast he overtook the merry-go-round and jumped on. A second later he jumped off again. Then he jumped over it. He's playing with it, she thought, smiling. A big toy for a big cat. She'd never seen a black panther so close before. She watched, transfixed, until the merry-go-round slowed down. Then Kristin put her head between her knees before she could pass out.
Derrick was back beside her in an instant, human again, his hands on her back. "Are you okay?" he asked, sounding anxious. "Did I scare you?"
Kristin was a little disappointed to see he had his pants back on.
"How could you not have told me?" she asked. Blinding fury raged up in her so strong she went to slap him, but at the last second she pulled back and ended up slipping her hand through his hair instead. He caught it and held it.
Derek looked at her with eyes so blue that even in the dark she could still read the heartache that echoed hers. "What was I supposed to say? I barely understood it myself."
Her face crumpled. If he'd told her any of this when she was fifteen, how would she have reacted? Would she still have loved him? She buried her head against his chest as tears pooled in her eyes. Kristin was suddenly very aware that he was shirtless. Muscles bulged from his chest, crafting deep, hard lines into his abdomen that made his chest look like a map of mountains and valleys.
"I never forgot you," she said.
Derrick took a deep breath and inhaled her scent. It wasn't just vanilla, he realized. There were bits of lavender and eucalyptus intertwined throughout. She smelled like heaven. A thin film of sweat broke across his forehead. His heart pounded. He could hear hers pounding too. The moonlight fell across her face and when she tilted her head up Derrick couldn't help himself. He pressed his lips to hers.
As their lips touched, lightning struck them both. At least it felt like lightning. The energy wasn't just perceived, it was palpable. Long tendrils of bright light erupted from Derrick's limbs. They swam towards Kristin, circling her before devouring her in his blaze.
Kristin didn't know if what she saw was real, she only knew her hair was glowing. Her face felt like pure energy. She opened her eyes and it was like seeing the world for the first time. The air was almost visible with color. How had she missed the smell of pine trees and approaching rain that filled her nostrils so fully now? Derrick's own scent was magical. She could almost smell his blood calling to her.
Derrick brushed his lips over hers a second time and the impact was like an asteroid hitting Earth. She grabbed his neck, pulling him to her, needing to make him a part of her. He kissed her harder, the strange light around them pulsing as their hearts throbbed and their breath quickened. The kiss lasted an eternity, but still not long enough. When they parted, the lights faded and the air returned to normal, but there was a lingering buzz that seemed to follow them.
Derrick shook his head, clearing it. "I've heard the stories," he said, "but I thought they were all bullshit."
"Stories?" she asked, breathless. "What are you talking about?"
"Panthers don't usually mate with one person. We meet someone, are with them," he looked a little embarrassed, "and then move on. But you... you're my life-mate. That's rare Kristin, really rare. You're my soul mate."
She started to giggle, then realized it was just nervous energy making her laugh, and there was nothing to be nervous about. She felt it too.
"Now what?" she asked.
Chapter 6
The locker room was a madhouse. Champagne spilled into glasses, onto the floor, and over Coach's head. Kristin glowed in the corner as Derrick and Tate did some kind of chest bump. Then Derrick turned his head, ran to her, and picked her up in a giant bear hug, swinging her around the room. Her curves felt good under his hands, and when he kissed her a dozen football players—including Coach—made little woooooo noises like second graders.
The team knew about the two of them almost from the start. That night at Palidio's they'd seen them leave together and made a few assumptions. Tate had tried to get the details out of Derrick, but he'd acted like he didn't know what Tate was talking about. Derrick and Kristin had simply thought that, for now, it would be better to keep their relationship between themselves. Especially given the situation with their parents. Of course, the team wasn't about to let a secret this big slip by.
A few days after the merry-go-round, Tate and some of the guys had tried to hook Derrick up with a cheap blonde they "all knew and loved." They'd played her up to Kristin more than Derrick, making sure she knew how beautiful the blonde was and how good in bed. Kristin knew they were baiting her and had successfully ignored it all until the blonde had shown up in the locker room and started trying to give Derrick a lap dance. Then Kristin had gone a little bananas. She'd thrown a drink in the girl's face and called her a name or two that may or may not have been appropriate to the situation. Derrick had pulled her off the blonde and hustled her out of the stadium.
She heard the team laughing as Derrick dragged her off, shouting to each other, "Told ya. Our doc's a wildcat!"
Kristin had never felt so deeply humiliated in her life and was afraid she might even lose her job. Derrick told her not to worry, t
hat it was just the team being a bunch of snots, but that didn't do anything to stop the jitters that etched their way into her nerves. At the next practice though, all that had happened was that Coach had wagged a finger at her and told her to be careful 'cause football players were all a bunch of "playboy bums," and the rest of the team had started pinning little love letters to Derrick's locker. They'd also stuck a box of chocolate flavored condoms in her medical bag and sent Derrick and her matching lace underwear.
Now, as the team celebrated yet another victory—all the papers called the Redskins unstoppable—Kristin felt thrilled to be included. Tonight the Redskins had really outdone themselves. They were a shoo-in for the playoffs, and Derrick was on the verge of beating Randy Wolfe's record. In two more games Wolfe and Derrick would be pitted against each other for the second time in their careers, and Derrick was certain it would be the game where he set a new world record for rushing yards.
"Celebration tonight!" Tate shouted. The players cheered and Kristin felt the cold rush of champagne spill over her head. She spun around just in time to see Tate run off, leaving her covered in sparkling alcohol, Derrick grinning like an idiot.
"Guess you're one of the guys now."
***
"So do you want to tell your parents first, or should I?" Derrick asked the next day when they were alone. He was teasing—sort of. They were having a late lunch at Luigi's and Kristin's spaghetti was growing cold as she and Derrick argued once again about when, exactly, they should say something to their families. He knew perfectly well that she didn't want to tell her parents anything.
"They're gonna freak out."
"So?" he asked. "Let them." She shook her head, tired of this revolving conversation. She knew she couldn't keep their relationship a secret forever, and she didn't want to—she was crazy in love and wanted to shout it from the rooftops—but she also knew this was going to be more than just a little problem for her family.