“Yes,” I reply when he turns his pissed glare to me. “Uh, thank you for bringing him home.”
The man rises to his full height before running a hand through his damp hair.
I can’t stop staring, and I need to, because this guy may have brought my brother home, but he’s clearly an asshole.
“I didn’t have much choice. Tell him he owes me,” he rasps, staring down at me.
His eyes seem to blaze into my soul, and I cover my chest like it’s going to stop him from seeing…whatever it is that he’s seeing.
What?
“Again, thank you,” I repeat, pressing my lips together.
He nods, and I marvel at how wide he is.
I've never seen anyone so broad. He must work out a lot.
Like, every minute of every day, because my brother is far from light.
“Lock the door behind me,” the hulk of a man instructs before leaving.
I frown, wondering who died and made him king.
“Whatever, asshole,” I mutter, shutting the door tight behind him. It’s barely seconds before it booms open again, and he’s back.
“What did you call me?”
He looms over me, staring at me like I’m a worm on a hook. His eyes seem to shimmer in the light, and I open and close my mouth, unable to find words.
“Go on, say it again.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, but I straighten my shoulders and gaze at him coolly.
“I called you an asshole because you have behaved like one. Thank you for bringing my brother home, but I’d like you to leave now.”
His eyes widen, and his breathing intensifies before a deep chuckle leaves his chest.
“You’re stupid or brave.” He studies me before moving backward. “I’ll go with the former.”
With that, he disappears into the night.
Chapter Two
CALIX
ONE MONTH LATER
Istare at her house for hours, not feeling the freezing temperature. I’ve tried to leave countless times, but whenever I do, I just come back. So I’ve taken to camping in the woods opposite her house, watching her like some kind of stalker.
She’s in her room, the top left window of the house. Her brother is in the living room, drinking beer and watching TV. She’s reading a book, curled up in the window seat, her glasses sliding down her nose every few minutes. She pushes them up without taking her eyes off the book, and I notice her biting her lip, her cheeks flushing as she quickly turns the page.
I wish her window was open; I want to smell her.
She wriggles on the seat, rolling her head to the side as she inhales whatever is on the page.
Blair.
I love her name. Even saying it soothes me, and my wolf agrees. He’s calmer when I’m here, but he wants more. He needs her touch.