He pounced on top of her, his cock like a spear poised at her most vulnerable place. His hands pinned her wrists to either side. Another growl escaped his lips, and this time he looked down at her, locking eyes with her.
Golden eyes.
Nicole’s eyes went wide with astonishment, trying to process what she was seeing. Was he…was he a Shifter?
Michael froze, his eyes going wide with realization. He jumped off her and stood in the middle of the room. “Umm, I…”
“Michael, what’s going on?” Nicole asked in a soothing tone. She knew Shifters were incredibly private, but the idea that the lead of a rising country music band could be…wait. They were brothers. That meant. “Oh…”
“You should, uhh…I have to take a shower. You should sleep in your room, you know?” he said, walking into his bathroom and shutting the door.
Shit! This whole thing is fucked! She thought about the past few days, all the secrecy and walking on eggshells around her. The sunglasses and contact lenses. She got up off Michael's bed and walked back to her own room, completely torn.
If they were Shifters, this was the biggest news since the Unification back in the 1970s. Before then, Shifters were myths, but since then they’ve been slowly coming out and integrating into society. But they were so fringe that even one coming out in a big city meant paparazzi following them day and night. Instant overnight celebrities for people who just wanted to live normal lives. And now we have one of the hottest bands around that just happen to be a family of them.
Nicole lay awake, watching the room slowly get brighter as the sun rose outside.
Nicole needed to clear her head, so before the rest of the house woke up, she got dressed and went out for a walk. Mist rose off the trees in the valley below, the overnight dew evaporating again to join the clouds overhead. She pulled her wool shawl over her shoulders. No matter how warm the temperature was on this mountain, it was always just a touch too cold.
She walked briskly along the gravel road that switched back and forth up the side of this range of peaks. Her foot hit a small stone and it flew, skittering over the edge and plummeting hundreds of feet below. Nicole walked over to the edge to peer over. An ocean of green tree tops stretched as far as they eye could see. A strange sound had her spin on her heels.
Less than a foot away from her, a pile of leaves was vibrating loudly. Her mind instantly went to those novelty chattering teeth that skittered around. The sound was like that, but faster. Once her eyes focused the pile of leaves became a five foot long rattlesnake, poised to bite her. This is how I die.
She forgot everything. She forgot her name. She forgot who she was. She forgot where she was. Some tiny primal instinct kicked in, something that took control of her limbs for her. She leapt backwards, right over the edge of the mountain.
Nicole saw the gravel road and the horrible rattlesnake sink out of sight. Her vision was filled with the light Georgia sky, a fitting final vision before she became a journalistic pancake. Instead of her life flashing before her eyes, it was a small In Memoriam, published by her boss in the magazine.
She expected to see the mountain rush past her, for the sky to get farther away as she fell like the stone moments before. But it didn’t. She was in stasis: nothing moved. Her back hurt, and a burning scraping sensation told her that she was caught on a branch. I’m not going to die! Then the branch creaked and bowed, threatening to crack.
“Help!” she screamed. Full lungfuls of air rushed in and out. If these were her last, she had better make them count!
A rush of boots came down the gravel road, followed by a clear, “Fuck!” as a boot came down heavy on the gravel. The rattling stopped immediately.
“Help!” she said, tears coming down her face.
Michael's face peered over the edge above her. “Jesus,” he said, barely a whisper. “Just hang on, Nicole. Don’t panic!”
“Don’t tell me not to panic! That’s what they tell people who are going to die!” she screamed.
“You’re not going to die!” he said, his eyes scanning the space between them.
“That’s the other thing they tell people who are going to die! You’re terrible at this!” she said, her eyes wide.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, running his hands through his hair.
“What does that even-“ she began. The branch she was laid out on top of creaked again and it bent further.
“Hope that was a yes,” Michael said as he leapt off the mountain.
“What?!” she barely had time to say before Michael crashed into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. The branch that dug into her back was gone, and they were falling, spinning.
“Herrrld errrrrrrn!” he screamed in her ear, his voice changing into something bestial, inhuman. Michael's skin exploded with long soft bristles of brown hair. Where his face had pressed against hers, there was now a massive snout, with whiskers that poked into her ears. The arms that pinned her to him became thicker, and his fingers receded into paws the size of dinner plates.
The last thing Nicole saw was the side of the mountain rushing up behind Michael. Then everything went black.
Nicole’s eyes cracked open, taking in the brightness of her room.
At the foot of her bed, Michael was pressing an icepack to his side and grimacing. He saw her eyes open and let out a pained chuckle. “I’d heard of taking a lady for a quick tumble, but that was ridiculous.”
“Like, do you know how corny you are?” Nicole said, her jaw shrieking in protest. She hand a hand up to her face.
“Here.” Michael handed her the icepack.
“You sure?”
“It’s just some broken ribs. They’ll only rupture my lung and kill me,” he said, gingerly touching his side. “But the real concern is that you can’t yell at me for saving your life.”
A knock came at the door. Greg's head popped in. “Hey, you’re up!” he said, softly stepping into the room. “Girl, you gave us one hell of a scare!”
“Mmmhmm,” Nicole said, pressing the icepack to her jaw. “Stupid rattlesnake. Stupid mountain. Stupid band.”
“Now, now. That’s just the near-fatal collision with the earth talking. Do you need anything?”
“Codeine,” she said.
“Hmm…we might have some aspirin. No guarantee on the expiration date, though. I’ll, uhh, leave you two alone,” he said, leaving the room.
Michael sat on the bed next to her, his hand gently stroking her knee through the blanket.
“Michael,” she said, “why didn’t you tell me you were a Shifter?”
He looked away, then down at the floor. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me.” she said.
“It’s just…I don’t know. Some humans are fine with it, or at least they think they are. Until Mr. Growly comes out, then it’s all guns and pitchforks.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not my fault I am like this. I was born this way.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.
He gave a small shake to his head. “It’s easy to say that. It’s easy to think everything is going to be fine. It’s the 21st century, we’re a sophisticated society, etc. I had a girlfriend a few years ago. I kept it from her. I know that was wrong. But after a few months I told her. The next morning she leaves her phone in my room. It turns on when I pick it up,” he sighed. “She looked up silver bullets on the internet.”
Nicole gave his arm a squeeze. “Not everyone is going to think that.”
He spun to face her, his eyes golden and wet. “How do you know? It’s my life. It’s my family’s life. This was all a terrible idea. All of it. You…”
“Me? What about me? What did I do?” she said.
“It’s not about what you’ve done. It’s about what you’re going to do.”
“What?” she felt herself soften. She still was mad at him but the least she could do was hear him out.
“I’m a Shifter, Nicole. When one o
f us-“
“I know what a Shifter is.”
“What’s going to happen when our fans stop caring about our music and just look at us like a freak show?”
“You shouldn’t hide or be ashamed of what you are, Michael,” Nicole said, looking down as she smoothed the sheets on the bed.
“This is my life, Nicole, not an after school special.”
“I’m here to do a job, Michael,” Nicole said. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet under different circumstances.”
He patted her knee once, then stood. “At least we finally got to your real feelings about this.” He turned and walked out of the room.
Nicole felt her cheeks grow hot and her vision went cloudy. She wiped a tear off her cheek. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be a journalist, to make the hard decisions and always bring the truth to light, no matter the consequences. This week had been hell for her and now she was pitted against the very reason she came here. Why did this have to happen? Everything had changed now. How was she supposed to look him in the face and act as though nothing had happened between them?
She reached into her purse and pulled out her cellphone. She hit “Call” and waited. One ring. Two rings.
“Hello? Nicole?”
“Hi Josh,” she said. “I’m coming home.”Nicole rolled the sleeves of her sweater and sank into the sofa. Armed with a bag of chips and the remote, Nicole got to what had already become her routine in the past two weeks. She didn’t want to think about Michael. She didn’t want to think at all. She glanced past her aging widescreen TV and out the window. The sun had just set, and a light rain was pelting her window. See? She couldn’t go out and be social: it was raining!
She had gotten back from Georgia and spent that day in a daze. Her fingers danced across the keys, and the letters on the screen in front of her eventually became words. Those words spun out into sentences, and before she knew it she was done. Done with the most difficult article she’d ever written. An empty bottle of Moscato stood on either side of her laptop, like guardians against clear thought and prudence.
She swiped to unlock her phone, the message from Josh still active from when she opened it over a week ago. He didn’t just like the article, he loved it. He was ecstatic, saying it was the best coverage he’d read in years. It was real cover story material, and the editorial staff had worked two overnighters to re-do that month’s issue. It would probably be on shelves now, putting another spotlight on The Solid Oaks, for better or worse.
Thinking back to Michael's words that night, she knew it wouldn’t be for the better. With all this attention, he’d never get the sweet simple life he wanted. Not anymore.
Nicole’s eyes snapped back to the TV. Some prima donna with amazing makeup was imploring the home audience on why she should be the next…something. Was she a model? A musician? Was she eating bugs on an island? She was speaking but Nicole really couldn’t bother to pay attention.
“Nope!” Nicole said as she snapped the remote at the TV, the sudden flat blackness somehow more engaging than that lady had been.
Nicole stood up, swaying slightly. She had to eat something. Maybe. She remembered she had a bottle of sake in a cabinet, and that was basically like eating rice. Proud of this new plan, she made her way towards the kitchen.
Then stopped.
She could hear something faint. Through the pitter-patter of raindrops outside, there was something else. Something lighter. Something melodic. She crossed the living room and looked out the window onto the street below.
Under a streetlamp right outside her building, she saw him. His denim jacket and jeans were soaked through, a dark ruddy blue like the Gulf of Mexico in August. In his arms he held his big acoustic guitar. His eyes found hers, and he smiled as she opened her window.
“What the hell are you doing, Michael? Are you nuts?” she called down, folding her arms in front of her.
“Hope ya don’t mind if I do a little practice here. I’ve been running through a new tune, thought I’d see how you liked it,” he said, changing the tension on a string until it hummed with the note he was looking for.
“If this…if this is supposed to be some kind of romantic…thing…I’m entertaining guests! You’re just embarrassing yourself!”
“Sure. Give my best to Denise from America’s Next Top Fitness Instructor,” he said, flashing a solid white grin.
Stupid Shifter hearing! Nicole harumphed and crossed her arms extra hard. She wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction. This stupid stunt wasn’t-
Michael's guitar sprang to life, a bluegrass ditty that leapt across the space between them, slicing through the air and the rain. The notes hit her like bullets shot from his guitar, cracking the stubborn sulk she was resolved to stay in. His big palm came down across his guitar’s rosette and it went silent. For the briefest moment, even the raindrops seemed to stop, waiting patiently for what happened next. Michael's voice rose up, soft and sweet.
Sweet mountain tumble, spin me round and round,
Sweet mountain tumble, feet never hit the ground,
The look in her eyes, the words on her lips,
Holding me through life’s mountains and dips…
Nicole felt it just…slip off. The pain and self pity that had kept her paralyzed in her apartment. It sloughed off like an old winter jacket. The room moved around her, swaying back and forth as her feet carried her to her door. She took the stairs four at a time, throwing back the front door and sprinting to close the distance between them.
He was still singing as Nicole collided with him, pinning the guitar between them as her lips pressed against his. He pulled the guitar aside as he kissed her back, hungrily.
“Hi,” she said quietly, burying her face in his neck, smelling his aftershave.
“I take it you like the song,” he said, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Freezing,” he said, water dripping off his ears.
He lumbered after her, stiff from the cold rain and wind he’d endured outside her window. She managed to finally pull him into her apartment with the last of her strength. Dripping wet, he looked around her apartment.
“Not quite what I expected,” he said. “I thought there’d be more empty liquor bottles and balled up typewriter pages.”
“Luckily for me you decided to serenade me shortly after I took out the trash. And no one uses a typewriter anymore,” she said. “We have to get you out of those clothes. It just won’t do to have you freeze to death in my apartment. Your brothers will think me a bad host.” She reached out and began to unbutton his denim jacket.
Michael's hand closed around hers. He looked down into her eyes. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you write about it? About us being Shifters?” His other hand lifted the contacts from his eyes and put them into a case in his pocket.
Nicole didn’t need any more time to think about the answer to that question. She’d been asking herself the same thing since she submitted the article. “Because you love your music, and I didn’t want to take anything away from that. You’re going to become famous enough as it is. The public doesn’t need to know about your…wild side.”
Michael pulled her close, a masculine heat suddenly emanating from his wet clothes. “I thought that was the whole point. To find my wild side and share it.”
Nicole leaned in close, “I’m not sharing it with anyone,” and pressed her lips against his. She worked the buttons on his jacket and peeled it off.
Reinicke (Bear Shifter Dating Agency Romance) (Bear Dating Agency Book 5) Page 122