"DAMN WAS IT hot in there," she said as she limped toward Matthew's car. Her feet were killing her, and she hoped it wasn't going to slow her down when she ran to the gathering. Maybe wearing the cute-but-deadly shoes hadn't been the best idea after all. At least she had her bag of comfortable clothes— complete with running shoes—waiting for her in the car.
"Yeah, it was." Matthew unlocked the doors and Claire slid into the passenger seat, kicking off her heels and pressing her feet against the cold floor of the car with a moan of happiness. Matthew got in and started the car. "So, did you have a good time?"
"Nope." Claire leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes.
Matthew stopped the car halfway through backing out of the parking spot. "Really?" He sounded stunned.
"Of course not. A 'good time.' Please! I had a great time." Claire turned her head so that her cheek was resting against the headrest, and she looked at Matthew. "Though I am surprised that we've been dating for almost six months and you still haven't figured out that I'm a smart-ass."
Matthew half-smiled, but it was mixed with a grimace that made Claire freeze. "Well, in my defense, there's a lot we've both had to figure out. It hasn't exactly been easy, right?" He turned to look over his shoulder as he backed the rest of the way out into the parking lot.
She didn't respond. She couldn't. The comment had cut her, slicing bone deep.
Slowly, Claire reached up and started the process of unpinning her hair. She wasn't going to blow up at Matthew. She wasn't. She was just going to focus on turning off her human side and getting to the naming. And step one was her hair. There was no way she was trekking into the woods in an updo. She'd look ridiculous. She dropped the pins into an ever-growing pile in her lap, trying to ignore the wounded feeling that throbbed in her chest.
Matthew stopped at a red light. He looked over at her and took a deep breath. "Are you pissed at me?" he asked.
Claire felt the words bubbling up inside her and struggled to keep herself from saying them. But it was no use. She'd never been able to lie to Matthew, and in spite of the crappy timing, her habitual honesty took over.
"I'm not . . . 'pissed' isn't the right word," she said, gathering up the pile of pins and dropping them into the cup holder.
"Well, then, what is? Something's going on with you." His voice was heated, and it was more than Claire could take.
She exploded. "Of course something's going on with me! I'm a werewolf, Matthew, something's always going on with me. And for whatever reason, you don't seem to want to deal with that part of my life."
His eyes widened. "What are you talking about? I've never asked you to hide what you are."
"Yeah, but it's like you have to hold your nose every time you mention it. This is major stuff that's happening. It's not a game or some club I joined. It's my life, and it's not normal. Deal with it." Claire shoved the pile of hairpins off her lap.
"You're right—it's not normal, and I haven't complained about that at all. But there's no handbook for being your boyfriend. Did it ever occur to you that I'm doing the best I can?" His voice was as rough as a gravel road. "The human stuff is easy—"
"You can't just have my human side," she interrupted. "Not when you're a gardien. Not when you're supposed to be my boyfriend."
He cut her off. "What do you mean, 'supposed to be' your boyfriend? I've done everything you—or the pack—has asked me to do. Didn't we just leave the dance early? Didn't I tell you I'd cover for you at Emily's party so that you could do your wolf stuff?" He sounded as frustrated as Claire felt.
The woods appeared at the side of the road as he turned the corner, driving just fast enough that Claire reached out and caught the door handle.
"Yes," she said, her voice surgically precise and scalpel sharp. "You've done everything I asked you to. But that's it. It's like my werewolf side is some kind of obstacle you have to get past." She was gathering momentum, her anger swelling with each word. She barreled on, not giving Matthew a chance to interrupt her again.
"I'm not some sort of girlfriend buffet—you can't just pick the parts you want. I know that my being a werewolf makes things hard, but you constantly treat it like some sort of burden, and it's not. It's who I am. And quite frankly, I think I'm handling it pretty goddamn well. It would be nice if you'd give me a little credit." They were almost to her drop-off spot, and Claire reached behind her, snatching her duffel bag of clothes off the backseat.
The hot-pepper scent of anger wafted up from Matthew's skin.