“Okay,” I answer, smiling. “What do you want to know?”
“When’s his birthday?”
“October sixth,” I reply. “He was born early in the morning, and I’d been in labor most of the night. When the midwife finally handed him to me, a bright ray of sun came through the window and flickered across his face. And when he opened his eyes, they were gold like mine.”
Galen gives a little smile. “I noticed.”
I shake my head. “No, babies are supposed to have blue eyes. It’s very rare for them to show a specific color that early. The nurses were surprised, but I thought it was evidence he had the shifter gene.”
“Even though he had your eyes?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter that his eyes were the same color as mine. It was the fact that he seemed more developed than other babies, to the point where he was born with a set color that didn’t change. After that, it became pretty obvious. He was so much stronger and faster than other kids.”
My heart swells with pride as I remember watching him playing at the park when he was a toddler, leaping onto monkey bars and climbing walls. He was smart from an early age, too, picking up math and language much quicker than the rest of his class.
“He was always getting awards,” I continue. “And he had so many friends. That only started to change over the last year. I really thought he was going to grow up with a strong support system, with people who truly loved him, and that he’d feel connected and have a life I never had.”
“He will,” Galen says, taking my hand. “I promise you, he will. He doesn’t have to do any of this alone.”
I look into Galen’s eyes, and in his gaze, I see so much love. Pain flickers in my chest, and I have to look away again.
Our food arrives, and as we eat, I take the conversation to more frivolous things. I tell Galen about Nico’s birthday parties, class awards, and school activities, as well as funny mishaps from when he learned to ride a bike and roller-blade.
By the time we’re done with the pizza, we’ve stacked up a few empty glasses on the table. Neither of us has slowed down on the rum or the beer.
I need to let loose, even if it’s just a little. It’s been so long since I really let myself go.
“Hey,” Galen says with a grin. “Do you want to dance?”
I start giggling and shaking my head. “I hate dancing. You know that.”
“Come on.” Galen stands up and pulls a pose, extending a hand to me and pointing his toes as he flexes his other arm back. “If you don’t take my hand, I’m going to start twirling around the table.”
I giggle some more, excited but also partially terrified—because I know damn well he’ll go through with it.
“Okay,” I give in, putting my hand in his. “Lead away!”
Galen pulls me up against him, then spins us onto the dance floor. The single musician who was on when we arrived has been replaced by a jivy rock band, and the bouncy tunes have me shimmying around the floor, moving like the music is becoming part of me.
Every now and then, Galen reaches out, touching my shoulders, arms, or hips. Sometimes he takes my hands and gives me a twirl. Excitement rises in me, swiftly overtaking the lingering fear.
When the music slows, Galen wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. I don’t resist, but I do keep my guard up. We sway to the music, and I rock back and forth, very aware of his hands on my shoulders and his body pressed up against mine.
I wrap my arms around his waist and stroke his back, leaning my head on his chest. The delicious warmth that rises between us intoxicates me, heating up my thighs. An ache begins to throb deep inside me.
Memories of our night in the woods flood through me, and my breathing speeds up. Along with the warmth rushing through my body, my heart starts to pound, and my nipples feel hard and tight against my bra.
I look up at Galen, running one hand across his chest. I can feel the firm muscles under the soft fabric of his shirt, the heat of his skin, and underneath it all, the pounding of his heart.
“I love you, Clara,” he whispers, looking into my eyes. “I always have, and I always will. I will be there for you and for Nico for the rest of your lives. You’ll never have to be alone again.”
Tears fill my eyes, and even though I want to pull away, I can’t. I’m drawn to Galen even as my instincts tell me to run. When he lowers his head, I turn my face up, helpless in his arms.
God help me, but I love you, Galen, and I can’t fucking stop!
His lips touch mine, and I cling to him, pressing our bodies together. His arms go around my waist, and even though he strokes my sides and back, he doesn’t try to grope me. The kiss is all sweetness and care, and I feel safer than I ever have in my whole life.
I deepen the kiss, stretching up on my toes and putting my hands around his neck to draw him down to me. I feel his tongue flicking against mine, and hot points of desire burn in response, racing through my breasts, my clit, and deep within me, where the throbbing ache begs for his cock to satisfy me.
