Luke and I ended up walking with Emmitt and his family to the movie theater. The kids picked out a new cartoon for everyone to see. Luke and I got our own popcorn to share. It felt weird going to a movie, but Gabby had assured us there was no one close. And there wasn’t anything else to do but wait until Mary and Gregory came for the kids.
So, I sat back and enjoyed the show, laughing—really laughing—for the first time since the dreams started. Luke surprised me by cupping my chin and pulling my attention from the screen. Before I knew what he intended, his lips met mine in a kiss so mind-numbing and brief that I blinked at the screen for several minutes afterward. When I looked back at him, he watched the screen with a tiny image of the movie reflected in his eyes.
Not knowing what to think of the unexpected kiss, I went back to enjoying the movie, as I threaded my fingers through his. Every once in a while his thumb would smooth over the back of my hand.
After the show, we all walked back to the hotel. Everyone else was going to lunch, but the popcorn from the theater ruined my appetite, and I felt the tug of a dream. So, Luke and I walked back to our room.
Instead of giving into the dream, I decided to take a shower and warned Luke it would be a warm one just in case he thought I was taking too long. I hadn’t enjoyed the last time I fell asleep in a hotel bathtub.
Stripped down and letting the water run, I looked at myself in the mirror. I still desperately wanted to Claim Luke and wished I was brave enough to walk out there just as I was to try to tempt him. But I wasn’t. The scars on my arms bothered me. They were from a desperate time in my life that I really didn’t want to think about. The one on my stomach was just stupid. What really bothered me was my weight. I’d gained a little but not enough to look appealing, in my mind. Every time I pictured myself bare in Luke’s presence, a scene from Les Misérables—the old one, not the new—interposed itself. It was the part where Uma Thurman pulled back the covers to offer herself as payment to her landlord. Thin and sickly, she’d disgusted him. That’s what I envisioned. A grand gesture and an epic failure that would leave me crushed.
Covering myself with my arms, I ducked under the spray ready to wash away all my ugliness. It didn’t work.
When I stepped out of the shower, I was the same scarred, thin me. I looked around for my bag and started to panic. I hadn’t brought it in with me. Was this a self-fulfilling prophecy? I sat on the toilet on the verge of tears with a dream tapping its sharp fingers on my skull.
Why did life have to be so hard?
A knock on the door startled me.
“You all right?” Luke asked from the other side.
I quickly stood and rubbed my yet unshed tears away. “Yeah. I just forgot the bag.”
“I’ll get it,” His voice sounded fainter, and I knew he had already walked away from the door.
Making a quick I-don’t-want-to-do-this face, I turned the knob and opened it a few inches to look out. He had his back to me, picking up the bag from one of the beds. When he turned and saw me, he stopped. Shame burned me as I gave him an uncertain smile, closed the door a bit further, and held out a hand, palm up. Only after I did it, did I realize I’d exposed my wrist. My eyes flew to his again. He hadn’t moved.
I curled up, died, and was reborn in the fires of my anguish. Yanking the door open, I marched right up to him and pried the bag from his dead fingers.
“Just so you know, I had a boyfriend. Before the dreams started, and I went crazy,” I said defensively. “It was pretty serious.”
Finally, emotion broke through his shocked expression.
“But I cut ties when I realized what was coming my way. You know I’m old enough in the human world...and I know that by werewolf standards I’m old enough. When you’re ready, you let me know,” I said boldly, turning away from him.
He stopped me, curling his fingers loosely around my upper arms. The same arms that had a death hold on the towel and my remaining dignity.
“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of growl.
I dropped the bag and stepped toward him. “You didn’t think a girl willing to cut herself, take drugs, run away from home, and hitch rides from strangers would save herself, did you?”
“Joshua?” he growled.
Giving a small laugh, I touched his jaw, tracing the ridge of it with a fingertip. “No way. He smelled like mud.” Then his reaction hit me like a lightning bolt. His tense jaw, his overly focused concentration on my face...nowhere else but my face. He wanted to see more. My heart started beating faster, and the angry shame shrank back. Hopeful, I stood on my tiptoes.
“You smell like home,” I whispered brushing my lips against his.
He stood still, keeping his arms at his sides as I reached up and threaded my fingers in his hair. My lips traced his. Tiny tremors shook him. Then, he broke. His arms came alive and gently circled around me. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against mine. Tingles chased up and down my back. His mouth opened slightly as he planted little kisses in a trail down my neck. He nipped the tender skin there before continuing down to my collarbone.