With a hot dishrag, I began to wash the counter after I lifted the wine bottle out of the way. Downstairs, Aden erupted in a fit of giggles. Playing with a werewolf. No, werewolves. My brothers were playing with werewolves. I grimaced at the thought and continued to wash the counter, wiping away the remains of a dinner that had gone well. Jim had brought the boys upstairs, and they’d served themselves as Nana joined us. Everyone had been nice. It felt like a family. The thought turned my stomach to ice because I knew what I was doing. I was deciding to stay—to live—with three werewolves. What exactly did that mean?
I threw the dishrag into the sink and shook my head in frustration. I needed to settle this in my head, settle what it meant for us. I needed to start asking questions. I needed to talk to Emmitt. But the thought of seeing Emmitt change again made my insides turn to Jell-O.
My eyes fell on the wine bottle he’d forgotten. More than half remained, enough to give me courage to ask hard questions and to stay and listen to scary answers. I pulled the cork back out with a pop and slugged down the remains. Lowering the bottle, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand then washed the stove.
After a few minutes, I grew warm and the tension eased from my shoulders. Not all of it, but enough. I wished I had more wine but headed to the stairs, anyway. I wasn’t trying to use alcohol to hide from the answers, just to make the answers less terrifying.
At the top of the stairs, I hesitated. Part of me—the part that was still listing off reasons alcohol use, when discovering the existence of werewolves, was completely reasonable—wanted to march right back into the apartment and go to sleep. The other part of me agreed. I turned to go back into the apartment and stopped myself. No. I needed answers. Better now, not later. I made a face, turned back to the staircase, and marched toward the unknown knowledge I really didn’t want to face, yet.
Emmitt was on his hands and knees being kicked in the sides by Liam with an order to giddy-up because Jim and Aden were in the lead. They raced around the porch. I didn’t envy Jim’s or Emmitt’s knees, but they didn’t seem to mind. The boys didn’t look the least bit tired.
I slipped on the sandals I kept by the front door and joined the fun on the porch. Nana sat in her chair, acting as a judge to keep the race fair.
“Ready for them to come up to bed?” Nana asked.
Aden protested loudly before he and Jim disappeared around the corner.
“Not yet.” My stomach dropped a little knowing what I needed to do. “Could you watch them a little longer? I was hoping Emmitt and I could go for a ride.”
She turned and considered me. “You smell like wine. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s the only one I have,” I whispered miserably.
She gave me a sympathetic look. “Of course, I’ll watch them. I’ll put them to bed for you, too.”
I nodded and waited for the racers to approach again. Before I could say anything, Emmitt stopped in front of Nana, and with great disappointment, Liam dismounted. Emmitt ruffled Liam’s hair.
“This doesn’t mean they won. We’ll just need to race them again tomorrow. K, bud?”
Liam perked up at Emmitt’s promise to race again and nodded in agreement.
Emmitt turned toward me and extended his hand. Swallowing the fear the wine hadn’t killed, I touched my fingers to his.
“Nana will watch you, Liam,” I said as Emmitt wrapped his hand around mine. Liam nodded again, and Emmitt gave me a gentle, playful tug.
My heart thumped heavily as we walked to the garage. This time, I used him as a brace to mount because I was just a little unsteady. I settled on the seat, placed my feet, and reached for the bar behind me.
“No holding the bar this time,” he said, starting the bike. “Hands around me so I know you’re still with me.”
I nodded and tentatively wrapped my arms around his waist. After hesitating for a moment, I laid my hands flat on his shirt over his stomach. I could feel the hard muscle beneath, and the heat of him warmed me more than the wine had. My stomach went into freak-out mode, twisting and tumbling in a thrilling way.
He slowly pulled out of the garage, and I waved to our audience on the porch while I tried to calm my racing heart. It was hard to do when his muscles twitched under my fingers with each slight movement.
He turned left and drove for a bit. I began to relax, loving the ride.
When the bar we’d passed on the way to his house that first day came into view, I tapped his stomach and motioned for him to pull in. One more drink, and I could do this. I could ask him to show me what he meant by werewolf and see what Blake really was so I could start asking questions.
He pulled over to the graveled parking lot. The rather small building’s dark wood siding blended a little too well with trees pressed up against the back of it. With a faded sign above the entrance and a flickering neon light in a window, it didn’t look like much from the outside.
“I can’t take you in there.”
“Yes, you can.” I knew I looked old enough. If they carded, we’d leave. But I really didn’t think they’d card in the sticks. I climbed off the bike.
“Nana will kill me.”
“I think you can take her,” I said sarcastically.
“You have no idea,” he muttered as he got off the bike.