"Yes, I do. It might, at any rate." He smoothed the fabric over my arm muscles. It felt unwholesomely good to be touched by him. Comforted and soothed and real. I felt real when he touched me.
I cleared my throat. "I hate crowds. And parties. And talking to strangers. Nothing about that sounds fun."
Russ was there then, intruding into our private space. "It's not like that in my pack," he said eagerly. "No big crowds or parties. You could talk as much or as little as you want. And in your wolf form, you wouldn't have to talk to anyone at all. Just visit. Let me show you around."
I gave him a hard look, silently warning him to leave it alone and stop encouraging Sahil's hopes that this would work.
His smile was brighter than Sahil's, if a little cracked. "It might be fun, Charlie. I promise not to argue with you."
It was as close to admitting publicly that the two of us didn't get along as either of us had ever come. I raised a brow. "Oh?"
"No squabbles. No critiques. No fights. I promise." He made a quick gesture of crossing his fingers over his heart.
Sahil released me. He was smiling now. "If you're not happy, you can always come home early."
It was that word — home — that sold it. This was still my home, and Sahil knew that. He didn't want to change that. He just wanted me to try new things. Everybody in my life had wanted me to try new things, ever since I was a little boy crying hysterically because I had to go to school, and it was new and strange and different, when I had barely adjusted to the mansion that was my home with my parents.
Everybody always wanted me to try harder, and do new things, and be a better person. But this was Sahil. I couldn't say no to Sahil.
"Okay," I said in the most reluctant voice ever.
His smile brightened, and it was beautiful to behold.
Russ pressed forward again, intruding closer than ever. "You won't regret it, Charlie. I'll show you such a good time."
He put a hand on my shoulder. I cast him a quick, indignant look, and he removed it.
My heart hurt. I would miss Sahil. I would miss him very much. But maybe if Ralstead was gone by the time I returned, it would be worth it to leave for a little while. Russ might get on my nerves, but I trusted him. Meeting his family would probably be something I could survive.
I just wished I didn't ever have to leave Sahil's side, or see him with another man.
Sahil's smile was gentle and unsullied, proud of me, his eyes bright and compassionate and gentle and loving. There was no hint that he knew how it tormented me that he had a mate who wasn't me.
Did he know? I didn't like to think about it. It was a very exposed feeling, knowing that anyone had figured out how I felt. It would probably be even worse if he knew, and told Grant. Surely I wouldn't be allowed to stay if he knew.
Russ, though. I didn't dare look at Russ. Of course he knew. He thought he knew everything.
Someday, I was going to surprise that bastard. But not today. Not today. Today was just about survival.
#
"This was a ridiculous plan," I grumbled to Russ, shifting my bag in my hands uncomfortably from side to side, trying to ease my jittery nerves. "You should have thought this through better."
"It'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth.
He had a smile pinned to his face and a thumb held high. We were standing at the side of the road. Neither of us was sexy enough or unintimidating enough to hitchhike in this day and age. I could have told him that. The car whizzed past without slowing down. Actually, it sped up.
He dropped his thumb and went back to walking along the highway, his shoulders hunched slightly, a hunted look about him, and a grumpy swagger in his steps. No wonder people would speed up at the sight of him.
"Would you come on?" he said over his shoulder.
"You should have planned this better," I informed him again.
"I did plan it." He sounded like he was gritting his teeth. "My brother was supposed to pick us up. Is it my fault he had a breakdown? No. Is it my fault the car rentals were all spoken for? No, again, it is not. Is it my fault the next car rental is a two-mile walk, and home is a five-mile walk?"
"Yes," I said, just to be contrary.
"No, it is not. You're a tough shifter and part of a tactical team. I don't think it'll kill you to walk."
