Carlos remained sitting, too.
“Good call,” I said. “We might want to wait a few minutes. They can clear out the old pizza, and we’ll get the fresh stuff.”
His eyes drifted to my lips as I spoke, and my pulse jumped. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I looked away. Darn Michelle and her little talk. She’d planted thoughts in my head, and now I was reacting to a stupid glance. Werewolf pull, my butt.
Unwilling to sit there uncomfortably for the next five minutes, I stood and went to the salad bar to reluctantly fill a plate. I had nothing against salad. I just liked pizza better. When I returned to the table, half the group was back with their own food.
I noticed Michelle and Charlene both had salads on their plates, too.
Conversation floated around me as I ate. Charlene’s words caught my attention.
“I raised you better,” she said to Jim. He had an obscene stack of pizza slices on his plate.
I turned to Carlos.
“Are they related?”
“Charlene and Thomas are Emmitt and Jim’s parents. Grey is Thomas’ brother,” he said.
As I studied the group, Ethan’s words rang in my head like a gong. Two men from the same family paired up with one of us. How weird was that? I glanced at Ethan. He either hadn’t heard or didn’t care. He continued to scoff his pizza with abandon.
Finished with half my salad, I set my plate to the side and went for pizza. I’d been right. They’d brought out fresh stuff. The gooey cheese gave me some trouble, but it was trouble I willingly dealt with.
Gabby wandered over to the salad bar. Her slow steps caught my eye, and l noticed her semi-vacant stare. She was checking her sonar again. No one ever asked her to do it; she just did it all the time. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly then cleared again, and I wondered what she saw. Since she continued to fix herself a salad, I figured it wasn’t too big of a deal.
Happy with the cheesy goodness that loaded my plate, I headed back to the table. When I sat down again, I picked up my fork and licked the salad dressing from it.
A storm of desire hit me so hard I dropped my fork. Metal clattered against china, and just that fast the desire disappeared. It didn’t fade; it vanished completely.
I looked up from my plate and found everyone watching me.
Where had that come from? I glanced at Clay. He didn’t look the least bit guilty, and I felt his curiosity when he found himself under scrutiny.
Beside me, Carlos slightly shifted in his chair.
“You okay, Z?” Ethan said softly.
“Yeah. Fine.”
I refused to look at Carlos. It couldn’t have been him. I picked up my fork and carved out a bite of my pizza as if nothing was wrong. But I had a feeling there was a lot wrong. And most of the wrongness sat to my left, quietly eating his food.
Gradually, everyone started to eat again and conversation resumed. I remained physically focused on my pizza while my thoughts drifted.
Why was Carlos so detached? It took Ethan years to hold back his emotions, and he only just recently discovered how to close himself off. However, even closing himself off didn’t completely save him from me when I pulled. Yet, when I’d pulled, Carlos hadn’t seemed affected at all. If things went south and this group turned on Ethan and me, Carlos’ ability to block me could very well screw any chance of escape.
Yet, with all the leaking emotions around me, I didn’t feel one bit of dishonesty or disloyalty. Instead, there was a ton of happiness and gratification. I lifted my eyes from my food and traced the source to Jim as he sat with another plate piled with pizza. A glance at the buffet table showed the decimated remains of three pizzas. Geez, had he been eating while putting more on his plate? He lifted a piece and consumed the triangle in four bites. The piece wasn’t small.
Jim caught me watching him, grinned, and lifted the next piece in a salute before eating that one, too.
“How long do you give the manager before he comes out and asks us to leave?” Ethan said, following my gaze.
“I think Jim intends to find out.”
Jim winked at me.
The rest of the men ate just as heartily but were more discreet about it. Since the women, except for Winifred, didn’t seem to have the same aggressive appetites, I guessed it was a werewolf thing. I went back to my pizza.
By the time I finished what I had on my plate, I was full of pizza and emotions. Though Jim broadcasted his satisfaction of his gluttony the loudest, Gabby’s emotions drew my attention. Something was bothering her, but never to the degree that she stopped eating or spoke up about it.
A waiter came with the bill, even though the guys were still eating, and asked if we would care to order any dessert.
“Is it all-you-can-eat?” Jim asked.
Charlene shot him a warning look.
“No, sir,” the waiter answered.
Jim shook his head and went back to his pizza.