6
1085 Words
“This is the part where you say you’re looking forward to it.”
“I’m a downtown hybrid wolf who runs a six-hour shift at a rundown bar, and I basically live on the tips I get from talking to bored customers like you,” Arlene said in one breath.
“Ouch.”
She shrugged. “I was just being honest.”
“And what’s that honesty supposed to do?”
“Make you run for the hills?”
I smirked. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job, then.”
Ethan slipped up beside me. “We need to skedaddle,” he whispered after giving Arlene a small smile.
“It’s barely been thirty minutes.” I tried to keep the apparent whine from my voice.
“There’s a small crowd heading here after watching a match. They’re still high on the thrill, and mixing that with alcohol is a bad situation. We don’t want to be caught in the crossfire. No one gives a f**k about two uptown boys around here; our privilege won’t keep us safe.”
Ethan was right like he always was, and most of the time, it irked me. He’d always been the one to stick to the rules, ever since we were children, and sometimes, I wanted him to just take a risk.
I turned to Arlene. “How much longer is your shift?”
“I’m rounding up now,” she responded.
“Alright, we’ll just drop you off at home when you’re done.”
Ethan and I headed to the car to wait for her as she finished up in the bar.
“We’re dropping her off now? Is this safe?” he asked from the front seat.
“What harm would it cause?”
“Uh, I dunno. Maybe she’s working for rogues and is getting close to you as a way to steal information.”
I scoffed. “I got close to her.”
“That’s what you think.”
Our conversation came to a halt when Arlene slid into the car. She told the driver her address, and he input it into the GPS.
She turned to me. “Seeing each other outside the bar feels a bit scandalous, doesn’t it?”
“Not necessarily.”
We passed by a street bright with lights, and I spotted a stain on her upper cheek.
“I think you have ketchup on your cheek,” I informed her.
“Where?” she asked, blinking and rubbing at her face.
“Your left cheek.”
“Is it gone?”
“Not quite. ”
I dipped my thumb into a bottle of water, wetting it, and then reached for her cheek. To be honest, I thought about wetting it in my mouth, but I was trying not to be a freak. The unsteady beating of my heart flooded my ears. Arlene’s breath caught in her throat as I cupped her cheek, and my thumb stroked her soft skin, rubbing back and forth.
In the dim glow of the moonlight, I noticed her eyes shut, and every cell of my body burned to retract myself, to put some distance between us, because I shouldn’t touch her like this. It blurred too many lines.
But I couldn’t help it as I breathed in her vanilla scent. Her eyes snapped open as I pulled my hand away, a storm clearly brewing in her head. I dropped my hand to my side, trying to appear unfazed while her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath she released.
What just happened?
This was the most reaction I’d gotten out of her, and I should be thrilled, but I wasn’t. Whatever she felt, I did too, and I was terrified of the feeling. This was meant to be a game.
“We’re here, ma’am,” my driver announced as the car rolled to a stop in front of an apartment complex.
Arlene swallowed as she said, “This is my stop.”
“Well, goodnight,” I said as she stepped out of the car. “And just so you know…” She turned around to face me. “I’m into brunettes rather than blondes. And a hybrid wolf who works at a rundown bar downtown is just my type.”
Arlene smiled, and by the glint in her eyes, I could tell it was genuine. “Noted,” she said, and headed into the building.
Ethan turned to me. “What are you doing, man?”
I smiled. “I have no idea.”
CHAPTER 3
ARLENE
“A
lly, we’re supposed to be out for a nice lunch right now,” Leah groaned for the millionth time as she sifted through the papers I’d brought along with me.
“We are,” I said, flashing my best smile.
She rolled her eyes at me and focused on the documents spread across the small café table. There was barely enough space left for us to put our tiny mugs of coffee, but that didn’t matter to me.
“Doing your taxes at a café doesn’t count as one-on-one time, Ally,” she said again, scribbling down some numbers.
“But you’re the lawyer here, and these percentages and numbers don’t make sense to me,” I responded, taking a generous sip of my coffee.
The foam left a small mustache on my upper lip, which Leah noticed and wiped away with a napkin, shaking her head in amusement.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ears. “I know, but we need to balance work and play. You’re always so burnt out. Today was supposed to be a break, Ally.”
I took another sip of coffee. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
She rolled her eyes, ready to give me a lecture. “What have I told you about using phrases like that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Money has been an issue lately, and it’s not easy to be all peppy and happy when I could be homeless at any time.”
Leah reached out to hold my hand. “You’re never going to be homeless, not on my watch.”
“And here I am drinking this fifteen-dollar coffee when my rent is due. Life is so depressing!” I groaned.
“It’s my treat, remember?”
“Well, I’m tired of it always being your treat.”
She smiled. “I don’t mind.”
- Writer
