Night Born
Page 18
Then again, maybe he wasn’t supposed to try to discuss it beforehand. Back home, the women in the nearest towns were accustomed to the pack’s needs. They didn’t realize their neighbors were lupine, instead believing the strange rumor that the people living in the woods were gypsies.
The gossip made the pack seem mysterious and alluring. As a result, the women were fine with having their desires met by a guy who would disappear in the morning. Even then, Wyatt didn’t visit frequently. Most of the time, he could bury himself in training enough to stifle his baser urges.
Having needs that jerking off didn’t cut was probably the biggest flaw of being lupine. Even when he could find a woman for the night, his wolf recoiled, and the entire ordeal took much longer than he preferred.
Which is why it made no sense for his balls to be tightening just watching Nancy drink whatever silly mocha double-shot concoction was in her cup.
She lifted the straw and licked the small tube free of clingy whipped cream and a low growl escaped his throat. Maybe he should skip this visit.
Nancy was attractive for a human, but it had to be his needy hormones making him react now, and he definitely had to ignore them. He wasn’t a genius when it came to relationships, but he knew that nothing good could come from having a one-night stand with her. Taking a deep breath, he forced all dirty thoughts away from his mind. Thankfully, she put the straw away.
“Hey,” he called, and lifted his hand up in greeting.
She flinched and spun, nearly knocking her drink over but catching it before more than a few drops spilled.
“Sorry,” he muttered as she wiped frantically at the still blank page.
“Oh… oh.” She flattened her palms to the table and stared at him for a moment. “Wyatt!”
“Yup.”
“Sorry. I thought for a second you were… but thank gods you aren’t.” She stood and embraced him, her thin arms wrapping around his waist before he could react. Her need for physical contact matched his own, though for different reasons, he assumed.
He returned the hug and took it a step further, lifting her from her feet and spinning her around. The scent of roses tickled his nose and he fought the urge to bury his nose into her soft hair. Her breasts pressed against him made him realize that maybe this was a mistake. Down boy…
Returning her to her feet, he noticed the bright red of her cheeks and heard the pounding of her heart. Clearly, he’d overstepped, and she was panicking.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No,” she said waving her hand dismissively. “I needed it. Back in town, huh?”
“For a little bit. Thought I’d check in on you.”
“Of course.” She looked at her things and nodded to herself. “Oh, so are you going to join me here? Did you want something to drink?”
He sat but shook his head. “Still not into coffee,” he replied. “Or tea.”
“I guess someday you’ll have to run into me at a place that serves beer.”
“Like a bar?”
“Yeah.”
Arching a brow, he looked her over. “Have you ever been in a bar?”
Her brown eyes rolled but her smile was sheepish, and she answered, “Not since my twenty-first birthday.”
“Didn’t think so.”
She pulled out a notebook and tucked the blank page and pencil into it, then shoved everything into the massive messenger bag she used as a purse. Storing it on the chair next to her, she looked him over. “So… work?”
“Yeah,” he replied lamely.
“And how is everyone?”
“Great. The usual.”
She nodded and wrapped both hands around her drink, pulling it front and center before her. They’d already exhausted the usual topics, but with Nancy, silence wasn’t awkward. Not usually, at least.
“Who did you think I was?” he asked.
Her eyes slid to the side. “Brent.”
As in her repeat offender ex Brent, the massive tool whom Nancy had dated about a half dozen times in the last three years.
“Don’t tell me you got involved with him again,” Wyatt groaned. Even though it was petty human drama, it frustrated him to see Nancy degrade herself over and over.
“It wasn’t like that,” she bristled.
“But you got back together?”
“I’m done. It’s over,” she insisted.
“You’ve said that before. It doesn’t matter if you don’t mean it.”
“But I did and still do mean it… can’t we just talk about something else?”
He shook his head. “Why did you even go back?”
She slammed her hands down on the table as she stood, jostling her drink and causing the other outdoor patrons to look over. “You don’t know me well enough for it to be your business,” she snapped.
Her dark eyes were narrowed and bright with anger. Wyatt leaned away, this new side of Nancy was not one he knew existed.
“I didn’t—”
“You don’t get to judge me! You think you’re the first person to think you know everything about my life?”
“Nance, I just…” He didn’t know how to finish.
“You’re concerned, I bet,” she muttered, gathering her things. “But you know what? I don’t need it.”
She stomped away, tiny feet smacking the pavement with loud taps that made him sure that following would be a disaster. He grew aware of all the eyes on him, no doubt putting pieces together and forming a narrative. Wonderful.
All he wanted to do was protect her, if she was silly enough not to handle it herself, and now he was the bad guy. He got up, ignoring the judgmental crowd. He’d never heard of a female lupine putting up with the kind of toxic relationship that seemed common with humans. Helping was his intent, but clearly the solution wasn’t telling the truth.
Standing up, he watched Nancy disappear into the downtown crowd. Her scent still mingled in the air, and it held a salty twinge. He’d made her cry.
Suddenly, being right no longer mattered. He’d been a bully, and he needed to make it right. Part of the reason he was in town was to search for the better side of himself, and this was the wrong start.
* * * *
Nancy’s apartment was in the middle of the city, part of an odd subdivision that hid from the surrounding business with strategic trees and confusing narrow streets. Wyatt had only been by twice before but still had no trouble finding her door.
He glanced up the yellow siding and past the white railing decorated with tiny red hearts, a decoration leftover from Valentine’s day, he guessed. Beyond that, the door leading to the balcony was ajar. She had to be home.
In the past, he’d know exactly what to say to Nancy. He’d always been a people pleaser, so to speak. It was something he now detested. He didn’t want to be falsely cheery or rely on charm and luck to get situations to work. The disaster that had been his last relationship was evidence that planning every conversation and trying to fit into a mold wasn’t the way to be.
With that in mind, he rapped his fists on the door and decided he’d say whatever made sense in the moment.
The door opened after only a minute, and Nancy cautiously peeked out of the narrow gap. “Yes?”
It hadn’t occurred to him just how much it may hurt to see her like this. Her usually bright disposition had become empty and unwelcoming, from her protective stance to her hard stare. His heart flipped. He didn’t enjoy causing pain, and certainly hadn’t intended to ruin her day. “I’m sorry. Could we talk?”
“I don’t really want to talk.”
“Then you don’t have to. But I was an ass and maybe listening to me say that for a few minutes will make you feel better.”
The door opened a few inches more and the air conditioner inside pushed a cold, floral gush across his face. She looked him up and down, an appraisal he didn’t quite understand but wasn’t going to question. He must’ve passed whatever inspection was running through her head because she stepped out of her ap
artment and leaned her back against the door as she yanked it closed behind her.
“Go on, then.”
He glanced around.
“I don’t invite strangers inside, and whatever words you have should be safe for eavesdroppers, or I don’t want to hear them.”
This wasn’t the sweet young woman he was used to. They’d gone from hugging to being strangers, and that didn’t sit well with him. Whatever happened in the latest round with Brent, it had hardened her to steel. It was the kind of transformation that made him want to hurt someone. The world deserved sweet and caring, yet it regularly churned out bitter and cold.
“Your life isn’t my business, and I definitely had no right to be as dickish about your choices,” he started. Taking his cue from the harsh glint in her eyes, he continued, “To be honest, when I thought that he had another chance to hurt you, it dashed all the brain cells from my head. I know I don’t know you well, and you don’t know me, but I guess I’m protective to a fault.”
“That doesn’t sound like an apology. It sounds like an excuse.”
Wyatt tilted his head and gave her a humble smile. “You’re right. I am sorry though, because the real issue was that I’m trying to be less of an asshole, and when I think of you being with an asshole like me, it’s hard to separate myself from the situation.”
“Right…”
“What I mean is, you deserve better, and I guess it infuriates me that guys like me ruin what we touch.”
Some of the edge softened from her stare and she brushed her hair behind her ears with an empty gesture since it was already tucked back. “I’m still not sure that’s an apology. It’s almost like a warning?”
“Not what I meant.” He backtracked his thoughts and tried again. “I respect you,” he promised. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me and I don’t get to judge you.”
“Now you’re just repeating what I said earlier,” she retorted, but her lips had curled into a soft smile. “You’re trying, though.”
“Yeah.”
She nodded and glanced past him. He knew they were alone and figured she was just avoiding eye contact. It was an awkward situation. They weren’t close enough to be having this deep a disagreement. He didn’t warrant a second chance, not really.
“Does that mean you accept my apology?” he asked.
“I acknowledge it, certainly.”
He bit his lip but couldn’t help replying, “You’re a bit of a hard ass today.”
She met his eyes, and all of the previous anger had vanished from her deep brown stare. “I pull it out when I need it.”
“Can I make it up to you? Try to get back on the right foot? I’d like to take you out to dinner. Some place where I can buy you a beer and a steak.”
Shifting on her socked feet she made a soft grumble. “Well, if there’s steak.”
“I’ll get you a ribeye the size of your head,” he offered.
“I’m a New York strip gal.” She glanced down her legs. “Give me a few seconds to grab some shoes and freshen up.”
She disappeared inside before he could reply. The door creaked back open a second before she yanked it behind her. The entire frame shook, and he was left staring at her door. He stepped back and looked up.
Taking her out was doing the right thing. Dinner with a friend. Nothing more. Nevermind that she smells like dessert.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Godiva Glenn loves a good book boyfriend and aims to write the type of men that readers want to snuggle at night. She holds a B.A. in Literature, which more or less means she has spent more hours reading and writing than she would ever care to admit to.
Most of her recent writing endeavors circle around the paranormal/supernatural. Wolves are her preferred sexy shifters, but who knows what the future holds. Regardless the situation, she loves strong women and men secure enough to love them.
She resides in the U.S. with her amazing husband and two delightful giant cats, and dreams of traveling abroad to research locations.
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Table of Contents
NIGHT BORN
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
NIGHT SURRENDER
MORE GODIVA GLENN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR