by Selena Scott
She finished off the last of her potato chips and dusted her hands off, smiling smugly at him. “Sure did. A gift from me to you.”
“You’re an evil genius. Now, not only do I have to wear them, I have to freaking treasure them.”
Her playful expression softened and the teasing energy between them waned into something velvety. “You don’t have to treasure them.”
He huffed. “You know I’m going to. You could toss some old tin cans into a box and give it to me for Christmas and you know I’d treasure it.”
“I’ll add tin cans to my shopping list come holiday season.” Her words were joking but her expression had gone very serious. “Orion—”
“I’m tired,” he told her, cutting her off intentionally. He had an intuition that she was just about to tell him that things were getting too confusing between them. That sleeping next to one another and flirting and spending all this time together wasn’t going to work for her. “I think I’ll just hop on the bus.”
There was no way he was going to get in a car with her and give her twenty minutes to let him down gently. If she wanted to do that, she was going to have to chase him down.
“Oh.” Her eyes went wide when he cleared up their baskets and trash at warp speed, holding out a hand to help her hop down from her stool. He saw her glance at her watch and he knew, just from the light in the sky that it was barely past six. She’d probably been expecting them to pass the entire evening together, if not the entire night.
But no way was he giving her that much of an opening to explain that things needed to go back to the way they’d been. Back to distant and aloof and her always frustrated with him. He knew that some scared part of her preferred it that way. And honestly, he’d give her almost anything in the world. But he wouldn’t give her that. He wasn’t moving backwards with Diana. It was a nonnegotiable for him.
He leaned down, kissed her firmly on the cheek and gave her hand a squeeze. “Maybe we’ll have dinner next week.”
And then he was gone, leaving her standing in the sandwich shop while he flagged down the bus that was just passing.
CHAPTER NINE
A week later, Diana was sitting in her bed, the covers pulled back while she rubbed lotion onto her hands and face. She slid the cool, smooth sheets over her legs and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom.
Four more times she’d had dinner with Orion.
And four more times he’d bailed extremely early into the night. She had no idea what to make of it. He wasn’t tiring of her company, Diana was positive. Because he never left without figuring out a time he could see her again soon. He was now the person that Diana saw the most often out of anyone in her life. Even most of her employees and clients she only saw two or three times a week. Orion was quickly surpassing that.
Besides, this evening, right before he’d practically sprinted after the city bus passing them by, Diana had grabbed his hand, sensing he was about to flee. “It’s still early,” she’d said to him.
“I know,” he’d replied in a quiet voice. “Dinner in two nights? I’m working tomorrow night.”
She’d still held his big, warm, callused hand in two of hers, squeezing down gently on his palm. “Sure. But what about tonight? You really have to go? We haven’t read any of the book in a while.” Not since they’d fallen asleep on her couch and she’d jumped into his arms the next morning.
His expression had been torn and desirous and… trepidatious. He’d taken a long, deep breath, his eyes bouncing between hers. “I’m not gonna wear out my welcome, Diana. I’ll see you in two days.”
And then he’d been gone.
And she’d been left to think about those words -obsessively- for hours. What the heck did that mean? He wasn’t going to wear out his welcome? She honestly wasn’t sure how much more welcoming she could be at this point. Didn’t he know at this point that ‘reading their book’ was code for spending the night together? She’d practically begged him to come home and fall asleep with her. She was penciling him in to every single night he asked for. She was viciously aware of the fact that every single night that he didn’t have work he was asking to see her.
But he seemed committed to keeping things casual. They never even ate at restaurants where there were waiters! She loved his laid-back nature, his lack of a need to impress her, but for cripes sakes! The man was going full-sandwich on her!
It was with that thought in her head that Diana reached over to her nightstand and pulled up his number on her phone. Though he used to call her all the time, just to leave her a message or say good morning or good night, they hadn’t had a phone call with one another since she’d laid down the law about their friendship. Not once had he pushed her on that, broken the rule.
A few seconds of ringing and then his deep voice. “Diana?”
“Are sandwiches your favorite food?”
There was a pause, some rustling on the other end of the line. And in such an Orion sort of way, instead of balking at her out-of-the-blue question, he just answered it. “No. They’re the only type of food I know how to make. But noodles are my favorite food. Thai noodles. Or the kind that come in clear soup.”
“Then how come we’ve never eaten noodles together?”
There was another long pause. She knew that he was trying to read between the lines. Most likely he was failing, considering how little experience he had with human culture. But even someone who’d been born and raised around humans might have lost her train of thought in this conversation.
“I’m getting that feeling,” he eventually said. “That I get when you’re saying one thing but you’re actually asking me another.”
God.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. When, when, was the last time that someone had said something that honest to her? Seriously. Had she ever been involved with a man who not only didn’t play games, but gently, sweetly, didn’t let her play games either? Had she ever been with a man who’d figured her out so quickly? Who knew just how fancy she wasn’t?
She pulled up her knees to her chin. Something she hadn’t done since she was a girl. Since she’d just lost her mother and she needed to hug herself so hard for fear she’d fly apart at the seams if she stopped.
What was she really asking him? She owed him that much. At least that much.
“Why do you keep leaving so early after dinner?”
There was a pause so she kept going. “Why don’t we ever eat at my house? Or at a restaurant where we can take our time?”
He still didn’t speak.
“Why don’t we read together anymore?” she asked. “Why aren’t you here with me right now?”
The last question had her heart banging against her ribs so hard she heard the tremor of her heartbeat in her voice. Her blood was moving through her veins in big, lusty waves, like white caps crashing over the edge of a boat. She could only grip her knees with one arm, the other was holding the phone to her ear, but her arm started to ache with how hard she hugged herself.
Just a few weeks ago, this man had been a pest. An attractive pest, one who she hadn’t quite known what to do with, but a pest nonetheless. And now, here she was, worrying that she needed him so badly his next words had the power to make her curl up and disappear.
She breathed into the silence, trying to calm herself.
“Do you want me there with you right now?” his deep, deep voice asked her quietly, gently.
“I don’t think I would have called if I didn’t.”
“Diana,” he reprimanded her sweetly for her evasive answer.
She sighed. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I want you here.”
“You still have the book?” She heard him rustling around, the distinct sound of shoes clopping on the ground.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
The line clicked dead and then all she could do was wait.
***
She met him at the door in a set of c
otton pajamas that had his mouth drying out at the sight of them. Swishy pants around her ankles and a loose, little halvsie shirt that showed a tantalizing stripe of skin above the waistline of her pants.
The expression on her face instantly sobered him, however. She had her lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes were unusually shiny. Her hair tumbled everywhere, making her look much younger than she actually was.
“Hi,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered, to his chagrin.
But then to his utter delight, she walked forward and pressed her forehead directly into his sternum. She was so embarrassed she was hiding her face, sure. But it was his chest she was hiding it in. He’d never, in his life, felt a more heady affirmation of his place in the world. It wasn’t her weakness that was doing this to him. It was her vulnerability. To be this vulnerable, it took bravery. He knew that much was true just from watching Phoenix recover from his injury over the year. Nothing made a wolf more aggressive than vulnerability. Though he’d been in his human form, Phoenix had griped and scowled and pushed nearly everyone in his life away. Until Ida. Until something had clicked and he’d let Ida in. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable and Orion had seen how much courage that took.
Orion might have had considerably more experience tracking deer than he did figuring out the inner workings of the human psyche, but he could see the similarities between Diana and Phoenix. He saw just how many mechanisms Diana had for keeping people, anyone really, at a distance she’d deemed to be safe.
But not right now. Right now she’d asked him to come over. She was blushing and clutching him and rocking her forehead against his sternum like she’d burrow herself inside his chest if she could.
He stroked his two palms down her back, not letting himself linger at the smooth-hot strip of skin above her pajama pants. “What’re you embarrassed about?”
She sniffed. “I should have played it cool.”
“What do you mean?”
“I shouldn’t have called you and asked you all those questions. Now you know just how pathetically lonely I am.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what you’re embarrassed about? Inviting me over?”
He took her by the shoulders and held her six inches away from him, looking down at her. He loved how much shorter she was without her heels. It felt like his little secret. Like her heels and her fancy work clothes were war paint of some kind and he was the only one who got to see her all sweet and fuzzy and warm.
She closed the distance between them and hid her face again with a little embarrassed groan.
“Diana, you are not pathetically lonely. You could never, ever be pathetic. You kick ass. Seriously. You kick serious ass. You’re allowed to get lonely. I know I’m lonely a lot of the time. And I live with my siblings. Figure that one out.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Inviting me over is a good thing. A wonderful thing. Something I’ve dreamed about you doing for so long.” He paused. Did he protect himself in this moment? Or did he protect her? Frankly, it was no question. Not even a choice. He’d always protect Diana. “I almost didn’t come though.”
“Really?” She tipped her head back, her eyes a little pink around the rim but otherwise looking just as put together as usual. “Why?”
He let out a long breath. “I didn’t know if it was a trap or not.”
She laughed in surprise. “A trap?”
“Yeah.” He looked away from her. “You wanted to know why I’ve been cutting all our dinners short? Well, that night, after the glasses shop, I just got this feeling. I was pretty sure you were going to tell me that we were moving in a direction you weren’t sure about. I thought you’d tell me we had to go back to the way things had been. Before. When we weren’t spending time together.”
The expression on her face was all the confirmation that he needed that he’d been right. “Maybe I was going to do that,” she admitted.
“Why?” he asked softly.
“Because you’re the most confusing friend I’ve ever had. And just waiting-and-seeing how things turn out has never really been my style.”
He nodded, understanding. She wanted to control the situation. Even if it didn’t give her the outcome she wanted, she was more comfortable if she’d made it turn out one way or another. Because he knew now, with a bone-deep certainty, that she wanted him close. Her hands locked around his ribs were just about all the evidence he needed. She might have tried to push him away, but she wanted him close. He could work with that.
“You’re the most confusing friend I’ve ever had too,” he admitted. “But that’s not saying much because besides my siblings, you’re pretty much, like, my third friend.”
She laughed for a second and then sobered. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away.”
“I’m glad it didn’t work.”
“Me too.”
They stared at one another, him with his face tipped down, her with her face tipped up. They were balancing on the edge of something, they’d talked it all out except for one, very major, detail.
The fact that they weren’t really friends. They weren’t really friends at all.
They were two people who were trying very hard not to get naked and rub all their feelings out on one another.
If Diana hadn’t blinked, he might have taken his opening, told her exactly how badly he wanted to sleep in a bed with her every night. How much he wanted to see her with wet hair, wet skin, wet between her legs. How much he wanted her to tell him, every night, how her whole day had gone. How much he wanted to make her a sandwich she could take with her for lunch at work. He just wanted to tell her how much he wanted.
But she did blink. She broke the intense stare between them and looked down, her eyes dropping to his neck, then to his chest.
She took a step back and he let her, his arms falling to his sides. “Book?” he suggested, in what he hoped was a light tone of voice.
She nodded, turning on her heel and inviting him to the living room. He followed her.
***
Games between a man and a women had always been categorized in Diana’s mind as being characterized by a certain amount of deception. The whole he’s-just-not-that-into-you game. Or how-to-get-a-man-to-call-you-back game. Or how-many-dates-are-you-allowed-to-let-him-take-you-on-before-you-come-clean-that-you-are-never-going-to-sleep-with-him game. All games she’d found herself playing with various men in her life.
But whatever this was with Orion, it was not deceptive in the least. In fact, weirdly enough, this game was categorized by honesty. Go figure.
They curled up on the couch with the book and, though they hadn’t addressed their obvious feelings for one another, didn’t make any sort of pretense about where they might sit. They smashed their bodies together on the couch, curling into one another. Her knees tipped over onto his legs, his arm around her shoulders. And, as she read, his nose found its way into her hair and briefly up the long line of her neck.
After twenty or so minutes, she shifted to get more comfortable and Orion dragged her legs completely over his lap, one of his strong hands circling her ankle, rubbing a pattern into the side of her foot.
This time, they didn’t feel the need to read until they fell asleep. This time, Diana set the book aside, her eyes steady on his. “I’m tired,” she told him.
“Me too.” His voice was low, his eyes searching.
She rose up and tipped her head back, toward the part of the house he hadn’t seen before. She led him to her bedroom. He disappeared into the bathroom for a minute and when he came back out, his face was damp and he smelled like her toothpaste. She sat on the bed, her knees up to her chin, and watched him as he toed off one boot and then the other. She gulped when he yanked his T shirt over his head, setting it on the chair next to her bed, and then his jeans on top of that.
He wore athletic boxers, the stretchy kind, and they pinned something thic
k and long to his left leg. Diana stared between his legs for a long second before she pulled the covers back even further.
He clicked off the bedside lamp, plunging them into darkness and then she held her breath. The bed dipped under his weight and she heard the sinuous sound of him slipping under the covers. Still curled up in a ball with her chin on her knees, she wasn’t altogether surprised when his strong, sure hand looped around her back and pulled her toward him.
She folded like a bad hand of cards and let him stretch her out against him, her leg slipping over his thighs, her head finding the crook of his shoulder. He took her hand and laid it flat against his chest, his heart pounding underneath her fingertips.
It was that steady beat that lulled her to sleep. So strong, so dependable. So Orion.
***
Diana often made him feel like he was being tortured in heaven. Or pleasured in hell. He could never decide. The following morning was no different.
Because he woke up with most of her weight spread over top of him, her hair tumbled over his face. He could feel that her small, loose shirt had ridden most of the way up in the night and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Both of his hands were pressed flat against her bare back and her soft breasts were smashed against his chest hair. Torture in heaven. Diana’s body heavy against his with absolutely nothing to do about it. He’d never been this hard in his life. He could feel his boner trying to lift his very tight underwear away from his body.
He was dizzy and having trouble getting enough oxygen to his brain. Her breaths were long and even as she slept through the rising sun.
Something was different though than it had been the night before.
A memory swam up from the middle of the night. She’d been rustling around on the bed.