Simon knocked on Meg’s kitchen door. He knew she was home. He’d listened to Jake’s chatter and Jester’s yipping laugh to trace their progress from Henry’s apartment on the other side of the Green Complex to Meg’s front door.
She was home, but would she let him in?
The door opened. Meg studied him.
“I’m sorry I broke your door.” He wasn’t sorry, but it was the correct human thing to say.
She stepped back. “Come in.”
Trying not to appear too eager or reveal how relieved he felt to hear those words, he stepped into her kitchen.
“Would you like some pizza?” she asked. “I’m not sure how many people Lieutenant Montgomery thought were participating in movie night, but there are plenty of leftovers.”
“No. Thank you.” Just the scent of her was making him shaky with a need he didn’t know how to fulfill without doing something unforgivable.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you? Because there was something wrong with you this morning, Simon, and …” She began to knead her left arm. Probably trying to relieve a pins-and-needles feeling. “And you’re still not right.”
“I don’t want to talk about that tonight. Please?”
“Then what did you want?”
The words tumbled out, making him sound like a scared, whiny puppy, which was humiliating. “Can I stay with you tonight? Sam’s staying with Elliot, and I … It feels too lonely being by myself tonight.”
She looked wary. “You want to sleep with me?”
“Yes.”
Her hand moved in a vague gesture. “Like that?”
“No. As Wolf. I won’t shift to human. I promise.” He wasn’t sure he could keep that promise, but he knew if he didn’t it would be the last time she let him get close enough to cuddle.
He wasn’t sure what she saw in his face, in his eyes. It wasn’t the strong, dominant Wolf in charge of the Courtyard. He didn’t feel strong or dominant.
“All right.” She shook a finger at him. “But if you’re wearing fur, don’t growl about me hogging the covers.”
He lowered his eyes. “Okay.”
“Simon. I was teasing.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he closed the kitchen door as much as it could close and followed her into the bedroom. While Meg was in the bathroom, he stripped out of the jeans, sweater, and thick socks he’d been wearing. He shifted, relieved to feel his body flow into its familiar shape. And then he stretched and rolled and did everything he could think of to confirm that all of him had shifted.
Finally satisfied—and out of time because the toilet flushed and Meg was running water in the sink and would be back soon—Simon leaped on the bed and made sure he wasn’t taking more than his half. He never meant to take more than his share. He was just bigger than her.
Meg got into bed and pulled up the covers, her arms outside the blankets.
“I’m supposed to sleep on my back because the cut is long,” she said. “How am I supposed to remember to sleep on my back once I’m sleeping? And I’m not supposed to get the cut wet for a day or two, so that means a sponge bath at best and not washing my hair. And I feel really crabby about those things, and I don’t know why.”
He didn’t know why either, but he whined in sympathy.
Sighing, Meg reached out and burrowed her fingers into his fur. “We sure didn’t do things right today, did we?”
He couldn’t disagree with that. Since there was nothing he could do about the mistakes he made this morning, he wasn’t going to think about how the missing pieces of Meg’s prophecy might have changed the fate of Talulah Falls.
He breathed in her scent—and felt the craving recede. Warmth and comfort and friendship. If he could just stop making mistakes where Meg was concerned, he would be able to keep those things.
He felt her body relax into sleep, her fingers still buried in his fur. Stretching his neck, he gave her cheek one gentle lick.
The taste of her soothed him, like it had when she had been in the hospital and he had been so angry.
He gave her cheek one more lick, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.