by S Bolanos
“Those were lunch. And the other was for show. You said so yourself.” He had. Hadn’t he?
“You didn’t think they were real?”
The tone of his question made me hesitate before responding. “Of course not. I figured you were calling them dates to get back at me for Charline.” The words left a sour taste in my mouth, but that didn’t make them less true.
“Charline hasn’t said a word. If anything, she’s probably the reason there hasn’t been so much as a whisper about us in the office.”
“But you at least have heard some of her comments,” I insisted.
“I promise you, I haven’t. And what would it matter if I had?”
“What would it matter?” I scoffed.
“Sara, extenuating circumstances aside, I really like you. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I thought you did too.”
I shook my head as my hormones screamed at me to believe him. But I couldn’t. No matter how much I wanted to, people like Michael didn’t waste time with people like me. I should know, I’d spent my whole life trying to figure out how to be one of those people.
“I did. I do.” My words were as jumbled as my thoughts. “Ugh, this is so confusing.”
I don’t like this joke. It’s not funny. Isn’t my Stockholm Syndrome bad enough?
“What’s confusing about it?”
“Everything. You’re you and I’m me.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what I like about it.” He reached out as if to pull me back.
I shied away. “You don’t get it. You’re gorgeous and successful and interesting. I’m nothing. A meek little mouse. A wallflower no one sees. People like you do not date people like me,” I tried to explain while fighting back tears.
This is so much worse than the prank Carter played on me in high school.
“I’ve never heard anything so absurd in my life,” Michael countered.
“Well, you wouldn’t, would you?” I snapped.
“Sara, even if you don’t believe you’re beautiful, you’re witty and smart and all manner of other things,” he said, refusing to back down.
I quickly turned away before he could see the tears threatening to well up. “I’m going to find a hotel tonight,” I said, my voice quivering.
“Damn it all, you insufferable woman.”
His hand encircled my arm and yanked me back towards him. He dominated my mouth with a kiss that swallowed my gasp.
Something inside of me that wasn’t afraid took control. My fingers tangled in his shirt as I was lifted to my tiptoes. Heat curled from my bruising lips to touch all the deepest parts of me, making me tingle, and tighten, and ache. The kiss grew wild and more demanding, pure passion, raw and powerful in its intensity. And I wanted it. I wanted all of it.
“You taste great, like chocolate and starlight,” he whispered into the heat-fogged night when we finally broke apart for breath.
All of my previous arguments seemed to have been seared away. I smiled in the dark, not really thinking about the fact that he could see it. “As long as it’s not rabbit.”
Who is this brazen woman?
“Much, much better than rabbit,” he replied, his voice deep and husky. His mouth closed over mine again and the unbearable ache spread.
“We should probably head back,” I whispered, my breathing ragged.
“You’re right.”
14
Heat of the Moment
The door had barely closed behind us before I was swept up in another fiery kiss. I’d never experienced anything like it or my own eager response. Every sensation heightened almost to the point of stimulation overload. The cool wall pressing into my shoulders created a delicious contrast to the heat of Michael pressing against me. The satin fabric caressing my flesh emphasized his rougher hands.
I ran my fingers through his thick hair and across his broad back, reveling in the feel of his muscles shifting beneath the touch. His fierce kisses moved first to my jawline, then my neck. I gasped when his hand slid up my thigh and heat surged through my core.
Eyes closed, I leaned my head back, arching into him. I wasn’t in control of what was happening. My body clearly had its own agenda, forcing my doubts to take a back seat. A heated growl vibrated through my chest where his lips traced the line of my collarbone, hot and needy and a little terrifying.
The world glitched.
Another growl echoed between my ears and rocked me to the core. Teeth grazed my neck and my stomach twisted. Terror swam like ice through my veins. My vision blurred, no longer able to distinguish reality from the world of agony consuming me. Fear saturated every cell. But fear of what, I couldn’t remember. There was only the overwhelming desire to stay alive.
I tried to shout for help, desperate to understand what was happening to me, but there was only that savage growl in my ears.
My fear sharpened into a bright point of pain, blinding me to everything else.
Teeth flashed in the moonlight. My arm jerked and spasmed sending out waves of nausea. Red glistened wetly on concrete. An aching numbness dominated my legs. Pain defined my being, dragging me into the merciless light. It flickered once and went out.
I finally found the escape I sought as I collapsed into darkness.
When I came to, the bed was soft and warm beneath me, though every inch of my body ached, like when I’d been sick with the flu for two weeks straight. A yawn cracked my jaw as my body insisted on wakefulness.
Ten more minutes.
I rolled over in pursuit of dissipating dreams of sunlight and an open field. Geese swam in a pond while birds chirped from high up in the trees. I looked up into a perfectly blue sky and the ground fell away.
My body gave a violent jolt at the sudden sensation of falling. The impact of hitting the ground rippled through my body, emphasizing the pervasive ache. My nails scrambled for purchase on the floor as I tried to get my bearings or at least my balance.
“Sara?” a voice said from somewhere above me.
I froze. Slowly, I lifted my gaze up to find a bleary-eyed man peering down at me.
“Sara. Calm down.”
I shook my head. Big mistake. The room titled and swam, adding to my disorientation.
“Focus on me, Sara,” the deep voice insisted.
My eyes squeezed shut.
“Sara…” A creak of the bed suggested that its occupant was now moving towards me.
My eyes flew open in panic to confirm this. I mentally screamed at my body to move, but it refused to obey. As his foot lowered to the floor, I finally managed an awkward, backward shuffle. Elation surged through me then promptly died when I backed into the wall.
The man lowered himself to his hands and knees, his dark hair falling in short waves around his face, then inched closer. Shushing noises blended almost perfectly with the near-deafening sound of blood rushing in my ears. My breath came in short pained gasps as I struggled and failed to catch it. The soreness in my body took on new levels as every muscle tensed in anticipation.
He shifted closer until he could reach for my face. I craned my neck, searching for an escape I knew wasn’t there. My nails slid across the floor in a useless attempt to get farther away. Firm hands wrapped around my muzzle and forced me to look at my captor. His eyes bored into mine and my own widened in response. My heart faltered in my chest, refusing to beat.
“Sara, try to remember.”
Remember? Remember what?
“Shit, the change was too abrupt; you didn’t have time to adjust.”
Change?
“I’m going to let go now. Don’t panic.”
With exaggerated slowness he released my face. Tension coiled in my legs. He slid back slightly and a clear passage opened up. I darted forward and fell once more into darkness.
The scent of summer pine wrapped around me in a comforting cocoon. I could almost see the dappled sunlight drifting through the branches. A deep inhale brought all the scents of home and something else. I opened my eyes and fou
nd not leaves, but finely woven navy threads. A groan drifted out of me. The ache from before was virtually gone, leaving in its wake an embarrassment that would have normally set my face blazing.
Thank God for small mercies.
I shifted and realized the reason Michael’s smell was so intense was because my head was currently being cradled in his lap. A gentle hand landed on my head and brushed the fur back.
Maybe it was all a dream. I never actually changed back. Werewolves aren’t real. I’m not one and neither is Michael.
I sighed contentedly into the remarkably soothing touch.
“It’s okay, Sara. I’m here.”
In five words, my beautiful fantasy went up in smoke. If Michael knew I was Sara, then that meant everything else was real too.
How is it possible to screw up so royally? We can’t just be friends, so I have to sabotage everything else too?
I shifted in an attempt to slide off of the couch, but he thwarted me by encircling my middle in an iron grip and I whimpered in defeat.
I can’t even retreat gracefully.
“Oh no you don’t, not again,” he said, and released me to resume petting my head. “You have nothing to be upset about. Believe it or not, your sudden change in a heated situation is not that far out of the ordinary. I realize your circumstances are a little different, but you need to accept that these things do and will happen. I was worried that I'd hurt you more than anything. And when you woke up and couldn’t remember…” His hand paused mid stroke.
I glanced up at him.
“Don’t scare me like that,” he said softly.
I whimpered again for lack of a better way to express myself.
“Please don’t be upset. I promise, what happened to you is perfectly normal. Come to think of it, that’s probably why most young weres are discouraged from dating humans. Control is something that has to be learned, it doesn’t happen overnight.”
I looked away from his well-meant assurances and moved out of reach. It was mortifying enough that I'd changed in the middle of the hottest make-out session of my life, but having him make excuses for me was worse.
“Sara, please,” he said, letting me go.
I continued to retreat until I huddled at the far side of the couch in my own personal bubble of misery.
He gave a sigh that mirrored my own hopeless state. “Okay then. What do you say we start working on that control?”
My ears perked forward and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, curious despite myself.
“You heard me. I’m not going to sit here and let you wallow, you’re stronger than that.”
I let out a huff of disagreement.
“Nope. No arguing. Get off your rump. You’re changing back,” he said, then reached over and pushed me off the couch.
It was only by the grace of my newfound reflexes that I didn’t land in an uncoordinated heap. I straightened up to my full three-foot-five and glared at him.
He affected a look of pure innocence. “What? You were taking too long.”
My glare instantly morphed into a glower.
“Look, we could wait around for you to decide to do it on your own, but I don’t think you have that many sick days left.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s past time you started working on control.”
Okay, he had a point, but we both knew I hadn’t a clue how to go about it on purpose.
“I’m going to talk you through the process, then give you some space.” He paused a moment to let what he was saying sink in, before continuing with said instructions. “The first thing you’re going to need to do is try and relax. Yes, I know, easier said than done considering what is about to happen, but it’s kind of important. If your body believes there’s danger, the wolf won’t let go. You’ll have to put aside your fear if you want to accomplish anything. Clear your mind.”
Easy for him to say, he grew up with this nonsense. It’s not like he’s only just learned that werewolves are freaking real.
“Stop making that face or it will get stuck that way,” he teased.
I huffed again.
“Seriously, Sara, lighten up. Now where was I? Right. Once you relax,” he paused and gave me a very pointed look, “then you're going to focus on what it’s like to be human. Think about sensations—how does the world feel from that perspective? Once that is fairly set, try to move towards it.”
I blinked.
“You look confused.”
Understatement of the century.
“Okay, what about this? Try to remember how you were feeling the first time you changed back. All you need is to get the first couple dominoes going, the rest will take care of itself. Ready to give it a shot?” he asked way too optimistically.
I immediately began shaking my head.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter if you are or not, because you’re going to anyway.”
I loudly blew air out and he gave me a no nonsense look in return. With what dignity I had left, I followed him down the hall and to the guest bath. He stepped aside to let me pass into the pristinely kept space. My paw hesitated on the threshold, but with Michael cutting off the only exit, there was no choice but to forge ahead. My nails clicked on the white tile as I padded into the room. The soft yellow glow made the space almost serene.
“I’ll give you a chance to do it on your own first. Remember what I said.” He gave me an encouraging thumbs up before closing the door.
This is absurd. I can’t do this. I’m a failure as a human and now I’m a failure as a werewolf.
I laid down on the cool surface and prepared to wait indefinitely. There was simply no way to convince myself I wanted the agony of the change, even if it did mean I would be human again.
For all the good that’s doing me.
Time continued to pass with nothing more remarkable than an itchy nose. To my surprise, Michael did not come check on me.
He better not have left.
I lifted my head from my paws and stared at the very round, gold-finished door knob.
Not a chance in hell I’m opening that without hands.
I sighed in despair and dropped my head. The tile between my paws glistened brightly, polished enough that I could see my reflection. Looking at the image, I could almost believe it was me. The hair was the same color brown, if anything, it was more vibrant. Even the lines of my face resembled that of my human one, though that might have been a stretch. But my eyes, my eyes were distinctly human and undeniably mine.
A mental image of myself locked into place, truer than any thought. My abdomen clenched and the world turned inside out and upside down all at once.
I will not throw up on the floor.
The thought came viciously coherent despite the torture clawing its way across my body. Nails splayed on the tile, stretching to impossible lengths. Ribs gave a sickening crunch as they caved inward. I cried out as my knees buckled and sent my kneecaps crashing into the tile with an audible crack. My skin burned and itched everywhere. The only thing that prevented me from tearing it off was the disjointed state of my hands.
After an excruciating length of time, the pain faded to mere echoes. My breath came in harsh gasps that reverberated off the small, tiled space. The door opened with a creak of hinges that was more like a scream to my over-sensitive ears.
“Are you alright?”
I glanced up at Michael standing in the doorway totally unconcerned by the fact that I was naked. “Can I get some water?” I croaked, the words barely more than a whisper of air.
He disappeared without another word. While he was gone, I focused on trying to stand. My sweaty hands slipped on the slick tile and I bit back a cry as my knees were reintroduced to the unforgiving tile.
I took a deep breath and tried again, this time putting less weight on my hands and using my core to pull myself upright. My legs wobbled beneath me, already unaccustomed to the bipedal way of life. I reached out to grab a folde
d towel and skidded. My arm flailed out and met with the counter in my attempt to prevent another fall. I ignored the new throbbing pain and adjusted my grip so the Formica surface could steady me.
By the time Michael returned with a glass already wet with condensation, I'd managed to wrap a towel around myself and was stable enough that I wasn’t worried I’d fall if I took a step.
“Thank you,” I said as calmly as I could.
He opened his mouth, no doubt to inquire after my well-being, clearly having noticed my fresh bruises and the several broken tiles.
“I know you want to talk about this, but I want to shower first. I feel…” Words failed and gestures fell short.
He simply nodded and left again.
The water was harsh at first, nearly blistering even after I turned it down, but it quickly became a steaming blanket of comfort. While lost in the fog, my thoughts wandered back to how I'd gotten into such a horrible position. The embarrassment was almost enough to make me never want to leave the bathroom.
I sighed and ducked my head under the pounding spray. That had been my chance. A chance I hadn’t even known I had. He’d never want to touch me again after this. And who could blame him?
When I met Michael in the living room, I'd made a sort of peace with my humiliating display. Against my better judgment, my gaze wandered over to the wall by the door expecting to see blood and torn fabric like when I'd returned home from my first shift. But there was nothing, not a single trace of my change or of the dress I'd been wearing.
Mental note to self: stop investing in dresses, they’re clearly bad luck.
“Before you say anything, I want to apologize.” Michael’s words caught me off guard and I swung my gaze back to him.
“What for? It’s not like you’re the one who freaked out.”
“I lied,” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“About what?”
Oh God, here it is. The truth about that stunt he pulled in the park. He never meant any of it.
“I said I’d give you privacy, but I was right outside the door the whole time,” he went on.
“Michael,” I started, then stopped. It wasn’t what I'd feared, but I failed to see what the issue was. After all, I'd been the one who apparently couldn’t enjoy being in the moment.
