by Deanna Chase
He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was messy and sweaty, but apart from that, he seemed happy.
“Hello, Flint.” Katy flashed a white smile, her gaze landing on Cain’s.
And for just a second, Flint could swear she saw hate gleaming in the woman’s moss-green eyes. But it’d happened so fast, and by the time she turned back to Katy, her gaze was bright and welcoming.
“You just finishing work?” she asked her father.
“Mmm.” He nodded.
She looked between them. They were sitting close, so close she knew their knees were touching underneath the table. Katy’s sparkly catsuit highlighted her “assets.”
“Where’d you sleep last night?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and eying Cain hard.
“In Abel’s trailer with”—she rushed to say the next bit, seeing him inhale and knowing he was ready to light into her for staying in a boy’s room alone—“two other girls.”
Ironic that on the one hand he seemed to give her the green light to hook up with a boy, until he actually knew the boy in question. Then suddenly it was verboten. Not that she had any intentions of shagging with anyone, anyway.
Katy grinned. “Well, that sounds naughty.”
Her father cleared his throat, lowering his brows at Katy. “I came looking for you earlier. Layla mentioned you were studying?”
The way he said it, she knew he didn’t believe it.
“I did. I finished all my homework. Abel’s really smart and helped me a lot.”
“Hmm.” He drank from his cup.
“You’re Cain, right?” Katy piped up, looking over Flint’s shoulder.
Cain nodded. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you sit?” She gestured at the table.
As if she owned the table, or had a right to question him. Flint barely knew the woman—she was completely out of bounds.
Cain checked his watch and then nodded. “Can we get some breakfast first? I’m going to take Flint to school. If that’s all right with you,” he said, looking directly at her father.
Her heart seriously melted. Like turned into a quivering puddle in her chest.
Was he really asking her dad for permission?
And why was that so ridiculously sweet?
Her dad looked worried. Katy grabbed his arm and gave it a tender squeeze.
Turning on her heel, Flint walked to the start of the food line. A large black man wearing a hair net—which was funny considering he had none—scooped a pile of eggs, home fries, and gravy onto her plate. Flint pointed to the stack of bacon, mouth already watering thinking about it.
“You know, you don’t have to sit with us.” She leaned in, whispering low so only Cain could hear.
He smiled and it took her breath away. “You don’t like her.”
It really wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother pretending. “That obvious?”
He pinched his fingers together. “A little.”
“Long story.”
“Tell me about it.”
She took the plate from the kitchen worker and walked over to the beverage stand. Flint noticed Cain’s plate was piled as high as hers.
“Really? You want to hear all the gory details?”
He shrugged. “Don’t have anything better to do.”
“Oh jeez, thanks.” She rolled her eyes, filled her cup with orange juice, and waited for him to do the same.
He got two glasses, and their trays looked ridiculous.
Her father’s brows nearly reached his hairline as he eyed her food when they neared the table. “Flint? You sick or something?”
She snorted and sat, Cain taking the empty seat next to her.
Normally, she’d lose her appetite having him so close. And then when he stretched his legs and his knee bumped hers and he didn’t pull back… Yeah, a little bit of torture. But the appetite was a beast that refused to be denied.
“Just hungry,” she muttered and then said a quick prayer beneath her breath. After that, she began digging into the eggs first.
They tasted better than they smelled, gooey with cheese and salted just right. She almost didn’t come up for air.
“What happened to your face, son?” her dad asked, and Flint whipped around to look at Cain.
Silly, but she’d completely forgotten about it.
“Ugh, Dad,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”
Heat crept up to her ears, and she wished she’d left her hair down.
“What?” He looked at her with innocent eyes. “Don’t I have a right to ask the boy who’s taking my daughter out what’s happened to him?”
“Oh jeez, Dad.” The bacon tasted like leather when she snapped it between her teeth. “We’re not dating. It’s just a ride.”
“It’s okay.” Cain placed his hand on hers, stilling her fingers and making her heart gallop. “I had a sparring match last night. Buddy got a little rough.” He gritted out the last part and then smiled.
Flint tried to see Cain as her dad must at this point. Swollen face, cracked lip, and dressed in black. His nightmare come to life.
“Hmm,” he muttered.
Katy glanced between them and then cleared her throat.
“So, Cain, you’ve taken a shine to our Flint have you?” Katy asked.
Our Flint? It was enough to make her want to gag. She ground her molars hard. Because if she didn’t, she’d say something she’d really regret. Her fork clattered to the plate.
“Flint.” Her father’s stern voice made her swallow her snappy retort.
Planting a hard smile on her face, Flint shook her head. “You want the truth?” she said, her voice low, aware of the other people sitting around. “It’s hard, okay. Her calling me ‘our Flint.’”
Katy grabbed her chest and glanced at Flint’s father. “I’m sorry, I was just… I’m…”
He patted her arm, giving Flint a scathing look full of disappointment, censure, and reprimand. It was worse than actually getting a tongue-lashing.
“I hardly think this is the best time or place,” he said, looking directly at Cain.
Cain, for his part, was chewing on his food but looking hard at Katy.
“Yes, Dad,” she whispered, hating more than anything how much she kept disappointing him.
Katy just looked sad, which made her feel even worse.
Why couldn’t she just like her? Everything would be so much easier for all of them.
Cain glanced at his watch. “Flint and I really should get going if we don’t want to be late.”
Her father sighed and then nodded, gesturing for Flint to come and give him another kiss on the cheek. If he still wanted a kiss, then maybe she hadn’t hurt him too bad. But his long-suffering sigh made her doubt that.
“Love you, Daddy.” And, taking a deep breath, she humbled herself, “Sorry about that, Katy. It’s just…”
She smiled. “I understand. I really do.”
And somehow it sounded genuine, which only made Flint feel worse.
Cain wrapped the pile of bacon into a napkin and then handed Flint her bag. Giving him a grateful smile, she turned and left.
The moment they were outside, she took a deep breath. “Well, that sucked.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Flint screwed her face up. “Wasn’t that bad? What planet are you from?”
“Oh, you mean when you completely humiliated your dad in front of me?” Humor glinted in his blue depths.
Giving him the evil eye, she growled. “Oh my God, I hate you so much right now.”
He chuckled and then shook his head, getting serious. “Honestly, princess, it wasn’t that bad.”
The heat in her cheeks said otherwise. There was going to be heck to pay when she got home from school later. Flint was used to her dad always being super protective of her mother, even herself at times, but to see him like that. With Katy. It’d stung.
Staring down at her feet, lost in her woe-is-me thoughts, she didn�
�t see Abel until they bumped shoulders.
“Oh, Abel. Sorry,” she stuttered, suddenly remembering their weird good-bye earlier.
He was dressed in a pair of tan shorts, sneakers, and a tight baseball shirt. It was definitely not her imagination; he was starting to fill out. He’d looked as close to skeletal as she’d ever remembered seeing someone when she’d first arrived, and in only three months, he was bulking up.
Abel eyed Cain hard before turning back to look at her. “Sorry,” he muttered, “should have been looking where I was going.”
Flint watched as he walked to the food shack, thinking maybe she should follow, say something. He was her best friend—she didn’t want this weirdness between them.
Cain’s warm hand clamped onto her shoulder. “You ready?”
Sad, feeling like the world’s biggest screwup, she sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
When they were in the car, he spoke up first. “It’s really going to be okay.”
Why was he being so nice all of a sudden? Especially today, when she’d shown her butt to not one but two very important people in her life.
Though, in the case of Abel, she wasn’t sure the guilt was appropriate, but she felt it anyway.
“You think? Because I really think my dad is pissed.”
He shrugged, shifting into a higher gear. They were taking a different route to school, heading the opposite way. She’d come this way once; it added a good twenty minutes to the drive. Which was why she’d never taken the route again. But today, she kind of liked going the long way around.
He shrugged. “It happens. I’m pretty sure Adam’s wanted to kick my butt a time or two.”
His smile made her belly roll and then it grumbled. Which was just about the most unromantic thing ever.
Nodding to the center console, he said, “Figured you’d start growling like a bear. Brought that bacon for you.”
Putty. Warm gooey putty, that’s what she was. “Ah, you shouldn’t have. My hero.” She snatched the white wrapping and took a bite of the first slice of bacon, unable to hold back the moan that spilled from her throat.
“Tomorrow’s report card day,” she mumbled around the food. “So not only is my dad pissed about the whole Katy thing, he’s going to have a seizure when he sees my grades.”
“You know what you’re getting?”
She popped another piece of bacon in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then said, “I’ll be lucky if I get a C minus in Wickham’s class. What about you?”
“A.” He didn’t even crack a smile.
“All right.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. At least I don’t live in denial.”
Cain narrowed his eyes. “What, you think I’m in denial?”
She nodded. “Oh, I know you are. All you do is tap your pencil and act like a giant loser with me. If you’re passing, it’s just barely.”
A secret gleam twinkled in his eyes. It was getting easier to read his moods. Which was weird. When she’d first met him, Flint had thought he had one attitude: Pissed off. But his eyes were more expressive than she’d ever thought they’d be.
He snorted. “See you demolished the pound of bacon.”
“Next time, make it two,” she quipped and wiped her mouth with the edge of the napkin, then bunched it up and tossed it back onto the console.
Time flew by, the twenty minutes had felt more like five, and before she knew it they were pulling into the school parking lot. As more and more groups of students filed out of their cars, Cain became more and more pensive. His smile was gone, his easy manner was now pent-up and he was uptight.
She’d think he was embarrassed to be seen with her, but at this point she was more inclined to believe that he was just like that with anyone he didn’t know.
He pulled up next to the curb. “Your dad doesn’t work tonight.”
She shook her head. “No.”
There was no inflection in his tone to give away what he was thinking. She bit the inside corner of her lip, wishing she could rub her finger along his bristled and bruised jawline. Anything to make him look at her like he had earlier. Flint clutched her book bag tight.
“See you tomorrow then.”
She frowned. “You’re not coming to school?”
“Got to hunt.”
He’d put on his glasses again and was now staring straight ahead, putting up that wall between them that she was coming to despise.
She toyed with her seat belt. “I thought you said the leads were dry.”
He turned to her, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
“Did you find a new one?”
Cain drummed his fingers on the wheel but still didn’t answer.
Which made her wonder all over again why he’d bothered telling her any of this in the first place. Clearly he wasn’t in the sharing mood, so what was the point?
“Fine.” She undid her seatbelt and opened her door.
“Lock your doors tonight. Don’t leave, you understand?”
It took everything she had not to roll her eyes at his heavy-handed manner. Just when she thought maybe they were progressing to a point that some of the ice was thawing, it would get colder and more bitter than ever.
Flint got out and then stood there, watching him drive off. The day was sunny and bright, but now it felt gray. Trees shook in the stiff breeze—winter wasn’t that far off. She could smell its nip in the air.
A hand draped around her shoulder. “Probably better that way.”
She glanced down at Janet, who was staring at the road as Cain’s taillights disappeared over the horizon. Dressed in a peacock-inspired outfit, she looked just this side of eccentric in a vivid blue jacket with golden epaulets, a pea-green corduroy skirt, and thick brown stockings. Her hair looked like a peacock’s plume the way it spiked behind her head.
Classic Janet, as gorgeous as she was, she could pull off anything. Flint would just look like a brightly painted baboon’s butt in that.
They headed up the gray stairs toward first period. The moment they walked through the doors, it was like homecoming had come and thrown up all over the place. There were banners hanging from the doors, posters on the wall, even stars dangling from the drop-down ceiling.
“What is this?” Flint looked up in disbelief.
Janet pointed. “A night to remember. Oh, how very clever.” She snorted. “I’ve seen better.”
Reminded yet again of her age, Flint’s lips twitched. “I’m sure you have.”
“So, we still on for the shopping trip?”
Flint shrugged on her backpack. “Yeah, unless of course my dad grounds me for life.”
“Why?” Janet’s brown eyes looked huge behind her cat’s-eye glasses.
“Report cards. Tomorrow.” Her stomach churned just thinking about it.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Janet patted her arm.
“No. I won’t. And if he doesn’t ground me, he’ll get all ‘Flint Allison DeLuca, I’m very unhappy with you young lady,’” she said in her deepest voice. She flicked her wrist. “Anyway, at least you’ve already got a date.”
Janet shrugged and then stood stock-still, glancing over her shoulder.
Flint turned and frowned when she saw Abel walk in. Earbuds were in his ears.
A girl bumped into him, someone Flint didn’t recognize. A pretty blonde with too much makeup on. She grabbed his arm, giving it a squeeze before laughing.
For his part, Abel looked totally bored but polite.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she figured the girl was flirting by the way she clung to his hand. Flint curled her nose, ready to crack a joke when she noticed something she’d never seen in Janet’s eyes before.
“You like him!”
“Sssh!” Janet hissed, waving her hand in Flint’s face. “Quiet. And I do not.”
Flint glanced back at Abel, who looked desperate to disentangle himself from the blond piranha. “How long? Oh my, wow, Ja,” she squealed. “Doe
s he know yet?”
Janet rolled her eyes and started walking. “I haven’t told him, and you’d better not. It’s weird, okay? It’s just, lately I’ve been… I don’t know.”
“What? Tell me.”
They headed down Flint’s hall, walking slowly.
“It’s just that lately I’ve been smelling something around him. I know that sounds weird, trust me.”
Shocked, Flint turned in front of her. “Wait, you smell him?”
If Janet could blush, she’d probably be doing it now. Her face was deadpan when she said, “I know how stupid that sounds. But it’s a”—she glanced around, then lowered her voice, forcing Flint to bend her head so she could hear the whisper—“monster thing. When we come across a potential match we… smell them,” she finished, mouth thinning out as if waiting for Flint to laugh.
“Does it smell like pine?”
Ja shook her head. “Pine? Why would you—” Now it was her turn for her eyes to widen. “Cain? That’s not possible.” Ja eyed her hard. “Does he know?”
The first warning bell rang.
Janet started to back up. “Lunch, we gotta talk. ’Kay?”
“Sure.” Flint nodded, confused, weirded out, and curious as she entered her class.
Wickham was all business today, barely pausing to glance at her. Thankfully, he didn’t pester her in class either. Which meant she had way too much time to think.
Mostly about Cain and why she could smell him. Even before the bite, she’d been attracted to his scent.
And it was different than the millions of other smells she was bombarded with all day long. Those scents were just… information. His made her want to stay close to him, act crazy and wild and reckless. His scent drove her nuts.
But maybe she only smelled his aftershave?
Did he even wear any?
The bell rang. Gathering up her book, she was headed out the door when Wickham stopped her by gently touching her shoulder.
“Flint, do you have a minute?”
His bespectacled eyes looked huge and owlish today. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but he’d definitely looked better. In fact, it was fair to say he looked downright scruffy today. There was a reddish-orange stain on the lapel of his shirt, and the beginnings of whiskers shaded his smooth jaw.