She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, well, it’s just lucky I don’t like you for your joke-telling ability.”
“I’m lucky you like me, period,” he laughed, wrapping his warm hand around hers.
Claire cringed, sure he would be grossed out by her damp palm, but he didn’t seem to mind.
It would be so nice to be able to control her temperature the way she could when she was a wolf. She was starting to hate the sticky-slick feeling of her human skin, hated the constant worry about how the heat was making her look, but she was stuck with it—at least until they could get back into Matthew’s air-conditioned car.
With their fingers linked, they wandered up to the next tee. Matthew leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before he bent forward to put his golf ball on the worn Astroturf. “And now,” he announced, “prepare to be amazed.”
Claire stepped back to give him some room. This felt normal. Being with Matthew felt normal. A bright bubble of happiness formed in her chest. She reminded herself that Emily was leaving for her aunt’s house this afternoon. But it didn’t make any difference in her mood. How could it? Matthew—the most beautiful guy she’d ever seen—had just kissed her in front of a ton of people.
“Yo, Engle!” The voice floated up the hill from one of the holes below Claire and Matthew. Matthew leaned over the fence, scanning the crowd.
“Doug! What’s up?” he called back.
“You coming to my party?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Cool! You bringin’ Claire?”
Claire peered over the fence. Doug, who she recognized from the soccer team, waved up at her.
“Hey, Claire.” The smile on his face looked genuine.
“Hey, Doug,” she said, unable to keep the pleasure out of her voice.
Matthew turned to look at her. “You don’t mind do you? It’s a week from Friday—we can totally just stay for an hour and then go do our own thing.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s fine.” She hid her wince. There had to be a way she could get there without her mother knowing.
Matthew leaned back over the fence. “We’ll be there.”
The older couple behind them started to look impatient, and Claire hurried up to the next hole. She and Matthew spent the next half hour teasing each other about missed shots and cheating on the scorecard.
It was the best afternoon Claire had spent with anyone in ages, and she was still half-floating when Matthew turned onto her street.
“Um, why don’t you just drop me off at the end of the driveway?” she suggested.
Matthew glanced over at her. “Why can’t I just take you up to the house? You have a seriously long driveway, and there’s no reason for you to walk all that way.”
“Um, it’s just—it might be easier, is all.” She could see her mailbox ahead. If he pulled into the driveway and Lisbeth noticed his car, Claire would be dead. She squirmed in her seat.
Matthew braked smoothly, pulling the car off onto the shoulder of the road just in front of Claire’s driveway.
“Okay, babe. What’s up? Seriously.” He turned so that he was facing her.
Claire twisted her hands in her lap. She wanted to make something up, tell him that the driveway was being repaved, or that Lisbeth had the plague. But when she opened her mouth, the only thing she could think of was the truth.
“It’s my mom.” She sighed. “She sort of told me that she didn’t want me to see you anymore.”
Matthew’s eyes widened. “But why? She hasn’t even really met me, except for at your birthday party.”
Claire dropped her gaze and stared at the gearshift between them. She was afraid that if she looked him in the face, she’d end up telling him everything.
“Oh my God,” Matthew whispered, and Claire glanced up at him in spite of herself. “It’s my dad, isn’t it? She’s freaked out because of my dad—she thinks being with me puts you in danger,” he guessed.
It was so close to the truth that Claire almost laughed. She bit her lip and nodded.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” she said, relieved not to be lying, even if Matthew didn’t know exactly what sort of danger his father posed to Claire.
Matthew sighed. “So that’s why you wouldn’t let me pick you up today.”
Claire nodded. “Are you mad?”
Matthew put a hand on her cheek. “Of course not. Our parents’ problems are—well … They’re not our problem. I don’t want you to get in trouble over this, though.”
Claire leaned closer to him, breathing in his scent of soap and sun. “I think it’s worth getting in trouble over,” she said, closing her eyes.
When Matthew spoke, his mouth was so close to hers that she could feel the vibration of his words against her lips. “Then we’ll just be very, very careful.”