He made one slow blink, still staring at me in a stunned way. Then he nodded slowly, looking dazed. "Yeah. You could have."
"Well, I — I'm gonna do better. From now on. Maybe you won't change your mind about me, but I still—" It was hard to swallow, hard to keep my voice steady. "But I can still prove to you that I'm better than I was. And I won't—" It was hard to keep the grimace off my face. "I won't say anything about Singh. I'll keep my trap shut on that topic from now on."
"Good." He was still staring at me like he'd never met me before and was trying to figure out who I was. It was a little unnerving.
I cleared my throat again. "Now, uh, you want to go for that run?"
He snapped out of it. "Yeah. But you're taking too long to get ready. I'll see you out there, if you can catch up." With that, he ducked under my arm and brushed past me.
I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding both from the stress of that speech, which had been difficult but necessary, and the way it had felt when he brushed past me. I was still attracted to him, hopelessly so, and probably always would be. It could leave me with an unexpected boner at the oddest times, and a deep ache at the reminder that he didn't feel the same, that he wasn't into me at all.
As I got changed, I realized that he hadn't really accepted my apology. Well, what had I expected? I'd hurt him a lot, hadn't even realized how much, probably, and Charlie wasn't the world's most forgiving person. If he did forgive me, it would be because I'd proved that I meant what I'd said, that I was going to do better, and not because I'd said the right words in the magically right order.
I dropped my drawers and tugged off my shirt, leaving them on his bedroom floor, shifted smoothly, and ran after him. I caught up before he reached the front door. The mansion seemed even bigger and more intimidating now that I was in my wolf form, with its shining floors and cathedral ceilings, its polished surfaces and chandeliers. How could the people who lived here be so nice and kind, surrounded by this opulence? Maybe opulence wasn't what turned people selfish and hateful, but something else, deeper than or different from wealth.
I reached the door just as Charlie did and bumped into his bare leg, jostling him as he tried to get it open. He snorted with suppressed laughter as he fought both the door and my big furry body. Behind us, the dogs began an uproar. Great — we were going to have company on this run. We shared a quick look, and Charlie's expression told me everything I needed to know. The two of us, him in human form, and me in wolf form, were going to outrun that measly pack of dogs. What were dogs to us? Nothing, that's what.
He got the door open. We burst out at full speed and kept going.
I was faster than he, of course, being in my furry form, but I wanted to stay close. Naturally, that involved a lot of pulling ahead of him, then circling back to run around him, or brush against his legs, or thump into him. He yelled at me to quit it, but it wasn't very convincing, because he laughed. I'd made him laugh.
The air smelled clean and green, my mate's scent was strong in my nostrils, and dogs were running after us, thinking they might catch up. Foolish creatures! If they did — if they got near my mate — I would bite them. In the meantime, I gave him another thump that almost knocked him over, and he dug his fingers into my fur so he wouldn't lose his balance. It was a good time to be alive.
"You piece of shit," he told me. "Now they'll catch us."
But they didn't.
#
We stayed with his family for a total of three days. When they weren't threatening subtly to kill me if I hurt Charlie, they seemed to really like me. The feeling was certainly mutual; they were great people. Even the dogs weren't too bad.
By the end of that time, Charlie and I were getting along fairly well. We hadn't had any big fights. I'd kept my thoughts to myself about his feelings for Commissioner Singh, and Charlie had only called me a piece of shit about once a day.
Somehow, he never got around to telling his parents that he was going to open a garage and quit working with me. Maybe that meant he'd changed his mind. Maybe, at the end of the day, the best I could hope for was to still be someone he worked with. That hadn't been enough — it wouldn't ever be enough; not really — but it was a lot better than nothing.
I headed towards the driver's side of the rental car while he was getting even more goodbye hugs from Mr. and Mrs. Davies and Rosa Rodriquez.
When he finally followed me, he scowled at the sight of me behind the wheel. "Don't even think about it! I'm driving."
"I thought you'd want me to drive."
"Well, I don't."
"You don't need to pull yourself together? Make sure you can see clearly before you take the wheel?"
He showed me a middle finger and then practically dragged me out from behind the wheel. "I'm driving. And I can see just fine."
"Not even a little bit choked up? Man, you're cold."
He growled wordlessly and started the engine.
Okay, so I hadn't completely stopped teasing him. I just picked my topics a lot more carefully now. Singh was off the table. Sex was off the table, too. But that left me a whole lot of ground to work with, and I could still get a reaction from him pretty well.
I leaned back in the passenger seat, satisfied with myself, as he took us roaring down the long, wide drive and away towards home.
During the two-day trip home, we bickered about who would drive (him, mostly), what music to listen to (I was open to almost anything; he preferred silence, unless he found a station that really irritated me, in which case he proclaimed it to be his new favorite thing), where to stop and eat, and how often (I liked diners, while, purely to be contrary, he chose fancy restaurants or gas stations, but never, never diners). All in all, it was a pleasant trip. I almost felt as if we were actually friends again — friends who argued constantly and had a very abrasive relationship, but stillfriends. He didn't hate me anymore.
I managed to contain my libido and not inflict my sexual or romantic feelings on him any further than I already had done. It helped that we kept to separate rooms for sleeping, of course, but that wasn't enough to make me not want him. All in all, I was pleased with my self-control. Even his father would have found no fault with me, I felt sure.
