Would Conner also enjoy breaking through his shell? Hell yes. He enjoyed most everything when it came to Pippen. That kiss from the other day still headlined his dreams and had him waking up hard. If kissing Pippen affected him so much, what would it be like to take their relationship further?
More than an hour later of following his spicy-sweet smell around town, Pippen's scent grew stronger. Conner stopped finally in front of a large, multileveled gym with huge windows on every side. Cautiously, he walked around the gym, peering into the windows like a complete and utter creeper. Gym members on weight machines or cardio equipment looked at him oddly as he searched each room he could see from the outside. Conner nearly stopped from embarrassment before he walked to the side of the gym where the pool was. The windows were frosted in this section, the bottom four feet were too clouded to see through but there was a pattern of swooping circles done in clear glass that he could see through. He peeked through; the room contained an Olympic-sized pool. Muffled, upbeat music reverberated against the glass. Conner looked at the members in the pool and his jaw dropped.
Surrounded by maybe twenty elderly people in various combinations of swim caps, bathing suits, and nose plugs was his Pippen, shirtless in just-above-waist-deep water doing a series of dance motions with a huge smile on his face.
Conner's first thought was that he had to be mistaken; that happy, dancing young man wasn't the same guy who could throw a knife with accuracy across the yard. It couldn't be. All of a sudden, every person in the pool, including Pippen, spun around in a circle. It was so fucking adorable.
Conner knew he should leave while he could but he was transfixed. Mesmerized by Pippen's smooth movements—he looked like a trained dancer. The way the top half of his body moved along with the music as if it was created for him— this was surely a part of Pippen that no one else in their world knew.
There was nothing Conner could do but gawk through the inch-wide clear gap as the instructor put the elderly participants through a series of dance moves in the water, Pippen following along the entire time as if he had the routine memorized. At the end of the class Pippen stood by the pool steps in nothing but his swim shorts and helped every single person out of the pool before he himself took the steps up. Water sluiced down his body and Conner found he was irrationally jealous of the chlorinated liquid. He wanted to slide down Pippen's body as that pool water did, slipping into his most private places.
Perhaps Pippen felt his lust, or perhaps he had moved in an erratic enough way to catch his attention, whatever the reason, Pippen turned toward the windows, his eyes finding Conner's so quickly it was as if he knew he'd been there the whole time. The way his eyes narrowed into angry slits proved he did not and Conner was at once appreciative of the window that separated them. He walked back slowly around to the entrance and waited, knowing he should feel shame for being so nosy about his life and for following Pippen despite his wishes. But, try as he did, he couldn't summon shame. He was curious about this new facet of Pippen. And definitely turned on,—that feeling wasn't going anywhere soon.
Moments later Pippen burst through the front door of the gym, his wet, pale-blond hair the only indication to what he'd been up to inside.
Conner lifted both of his hands up in front of him, palms out. "Did you bring any of your knives?" he asked.
"Of course I did," Pippen spat.
That could be a problem.
"I would say that I'm sorry for following you, but I'm not. This gym is very far away from the pack house. Not in our territory and not even in the downtown pack's territory. You are completely defenseless here!" The best defense was a good offense and Conner jumped on that wagon with a vengeance.
"I chose this gym because it is so far away," Pippen replied his voice never rising. "I didn't want anyone I knew accidentally coming by."
Like you did. He didn't say it but he didn't need to.
Oddly, there wasn't any anger in his voice—though he never let his emotions show that way. His body language was more easy to read and he wasn't showing any signs of anger. He was looking away often though, and fiddling with a loop on his jacket. He tried several times to catch his eyes but Pippen refused to look at him.
"Are you embarrassed?" Conner asked.
Pippen's cheeks pinked.
"Why would you be?"
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, it's dorky. Dancing in water with a bunch of grandmas and grandpas—"
"Nothing wrong with being a grandpa or a grandma."
"You know that's not my point."
They'd walked around to the side of the gym opposite from the parking lot and away from the entrance. Pippen had his face down, his eyes still avoiding Conner's. Conner hated seeing him this way. He liked defiant Pippen. Mischievous Pippen was also fun. Even violent Pippen he would take before this version. He slid forward, cupping Pippen's neck. He seemed so fragile when Conner held him this way, like he really was some sort of elf or fairy, insubstantial as a cloud that was at constant risk of floating away or dissipating into nothing. Pippen's back was against the wall of the gym, providing him with no escape out of Conner's embrace and Conner found he liked the idea of that a little too much.
He took his time, bringing his lips so close to Pippen's that he felt the other shifter's breath against his face.
"You looked amazingly hot," Conner murmured nearly against Pippen's mouth. "You were beautiful and I wanted you so much while watching you I almost broke through the window and gave all those grandparents a show."
He felt Pippen's smile before he saw it. Conner would have growled if his mouth wasn't already occupied claiming Pippen's lips. They belonged to him and Conner wanted more. He wanted all of him.
A whistle cut through them and then a cheer. Conner pulled back and looked toward the interruption seeing a group of the people from the water aerobics class beaming in their direction.
"Don't stop on our accounts," an older woman said with a smile.
"Doris, you dirty bird," Pippen said, a little breathless. "Show's over." He stood straight.
Conner really hoped that wasn't true.
"You're a mean man to deny an old woman happiness!" Doris called back good-naturedly. "We're going to miss you!" She waved, following her group of friends into the parking lot.
Conner dropped his arm over Pippen's shoulders, gently, keeping in mind that he was still technically wounded. Not that he acted that way. "Why is she going to miss you?"
"This was my last class. I'm pretty much healed."
Conner heard the words Pippen had left unspoken. Something along the lines of, "And I would've gotten away with it too!"
He leaned over and kissed Pippen quickly against his temple. "So, ready for that pint?"
"Is it British? Irish?"
"Is what?"
"Your accent."
Conner didn't realize he'd been slipping. "I'll tell you at the pub."
Conner offered to call a cab so that Pippen didn't have to walk back to the other side of town, but he refused. At this point, Conner was afraid of doing anything that might break the spell of Pippen agreeing to go out with him. So he agreed to let him walk.
They made it back to their neighborhood at dusk. The 45th Pub's open sign shone just ahead. It wasn't much of a bar. Many would describe it as a hole in the wall, but it reminded Conner a little of home and was so close to their pack house that they frequented it more often than other places. Conner held the door open, intensely aware that this was the first time they had been at the pub together, but alone, just the two of them. He was determined to make the most of it.
Chapter Four
Pippen made it a habit not to drink. Alcohol dulled the senses and made thinking processes fuzzy. It also made people do things they wouldn't normally do. His father had been a sober asshole, but he had been a monstrous drunk. That isn't to say Pippen never drank. Sorell, a well-adjusted father now, had been a bit of a party animal in his earlier days—expected from a young man who had escaped an
oppressive home life—and Pippen had often partied with him. But it had been a very long time since Pippen had trusted his surroundings enough and had the desire to drink.
Conner led them to one of the tables for two, tucked in the back corner. There weren't many people there, something that hardly ever changed. Even the regular waitress, Christina, wasn't on shift yet. The people that were there waved friendly hellos to Conner and gave Pippen short, jerky head nods.
Conner pulled out one of the chairs and gestured for Pippen to sit down. He did, but not without first giving Conner a funny look that told him what he thought about his overly chivalrous behavior.
"I'll go up to the bar," Conner said quickly, almost nervously. "Do you want a soda? They have some juices."
Pippen looked up at Conner's earnest face. He was trying to make him feel comfortable by not pressuring him. "How about a porter," Pippen said impulsively.
Conner's eyes widened briefly before smiling. "Sure thing. What about food? Can you live with some fries now since we're having pizza later?"
"Sounds fine."
Conner left to get their drinks from the old bartender who was always there. Pippen leaned back, appreciative of Conner's choice of seating. He had his back to the wall with no window or exit behind him. From their vantage point they could see anyone who came or left. He wondered if Conner chose the table because it was secluded or because he knew it would soothe him?
Conner came back with two pint glasses and a basket of fries. He set the darker beer in front of Pippen and took a long draw from his own lighter ale.
"How is the shoulder? You really think you should stop your physical therapy?" Conner asked, popping a fry in his mouth. Pippen was sure he would ask more about the swim aerobics thing, maybe try to embarrass him a little bit more for it.
"Hardly feel it," Pippen replied. It was the truth. The wound hardly hurt. The muscles and tissue around it had been stiff, hence the physical therapy, but even that had improved. "I'll have my knife-throwing arm back in no time."
"And the world will have reason to tremble once more," Conner said before grinning. "That is a pretty interesting hobby. I have to say, where I come from, a guy who spends his time throwing knives in trees might be seen as a little nerdy."
Pippen had never been called nerdy before. He wasn't sure how he felt about it now. "What's nerdy about being able to throw a knife through the air with deadly accuracy?"
"Nothing, love. Only because you can throw with deadly accuracy."
Pippen didn't know what to say to that so he took a drink. The bitter taste exploded over his taste buds. It was a full, deep flavor that lingered. He took another.
"Is it too dark?" Conner asked, worried.
"I don't think so, just different. It would be great in a soup. Possibly paired with a sharp cheddar." Pippen took another sip, pairing the flavors off while constructing a soup recipe in his head.
"Did you always like cooking?" Conner leaned back, looking more relaxed than he had moments before.
"No, I'd never had the space to cook."
"You didn't have a kitchen?"
"Not one I felt safe in."
Conner regarded him with a cloudy expression. "Safe?"
"Why the twenty questions?" Pippen didn't enjoy talking about his old pack, not about the times when Silas ran it and especially not when his father was pack master.
Conner shrugged. "Isn't this what you do on a date? Get to know the other person?"
"This is a date?" Pippen had to be imagining the squeak in his voice. He sat up straight, leaning away from the table and away from Conner.
Conner stood, grabbing his chair, he moved it next to Pippen's so that they sat on the same side of the small table. He propped one elbow on the table like he was staking a claim to that space. "Yes, Pippen, this is a date. I want to get to know you. Honestly, I want to know every single thing about you. I'll settle right now for a little of your past, maybe some of your present. You could even ask me questions, if you wanted to."
The concept was so utterly foreign to Pippen that he had to take a long gulp to give himself time to stall. Date? Sure, shifters dated. But not Pippen. He hadn't been interested in any of that when his father had been alive and his relationship with Silas had just sort of happened.
Silas was, although messed up in the head, a strong, alpha shifter. Pippen was attracted to that strength. There was something about Silas' inner darkness that had appealed to Pippen back then, had seemed familiar. They had sex, ate together, and lived in the same quarters, but they certainly hadn't dated.
"I don't think I know how to date," Pippen whispered finally. "I've never been on one."
Smiling wide, Conner settled his warm palm over Pippen's hand. "I'll teach you, love."
The idea didn't totally disgust him. More than that. The right side of his body, the side nearest to Conner, had warmed up once he sat down next to him. His palms were sweaty and there was a tingle of arousal that radiated from his center, as if Conner was slowly waking his body up simply with his presence. "Okay. Then tell me where you're from."
"Chicago," Conner said immediately.
Pippen cocked his eyebrow.
Conner grinned. "Okay, okay. I moved to Chicago from Manchester, England, when I was seventeen. When I became the—when I joined the Chicago pack, I was self-conscious of my accent so I worked hard on masking it. Sometimes I think I don't know how to talk like I did anymore."
"You still do sometimes, when you aren't paying attention," Pippen said, lifting his pint glass only to find it empty.
"I guess you can take the man out of Manchester but you can't take the manc out of the man."
"Why did you leave your pack in Chicago? When you came to Luke's, when we all showed up on their doorstep, it seemed like you'd been alone for a while. I always assumed you were a lone wolf, like Luke."
"I was when I met you. I'd been alone for more than a year at that point."
"What happened?"
"Same as usually happens, I didn't like the direction the pack was going. Except I was the only one who had worries, so they gave me the boot."
"Is that how you got your scars?"
Conner sighed. "Sort of. Ask me again on our second date."
"Our second date? You so sure this one is going that well?" Pippen was fairly certain that he was flirting.
Conner leaned over, pressing the side of his body against Pippen's. "I know it is. You've finished your drink with your left hand, not because you're left handed, but because I'm still holding your right. It is a sign, dear Pippen."
"I'm ambidextrous," Pippen retorted.
"And I'm getting us another round and more fries."
Conner left and Pippen took advantage of the moment to take stock. He felt relaxed, but he couldn't attribute that all to the porter. Being around Conner was always enjoyable. Alone, without the rest of the pack, he seemed even more open. Like there was a Conner he showed to the pack and then a secret Conner that only Pippen got to see. That wasn't a bad thought, in fact, Pippen liked the idea of that so much that when Conner returned, he took Conner's hand in his.
"At my old pack, no one cooked anything that couldn't be made in the microwave. I had no idea how intricate cooking could be until my first day of culinary school. And I really only started culinary school because I took this online personality job quiz and chef was the only one on the list that didn't seem horrendous. I would have made a horrible loan officer."
Conner snorted. "I'm afraid I agree. Or maybe you would've been a great one. I know I wouldn't want to owe you money."
Pippen knew he was joking, but the meaning was still clear. He was scary and people often avoided him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had even asked to borrow a few dollars. Usually, that didn't bother him. "I'm already great with knives, so that helps a lot, plus giving people food makes them happy. I'm not used to making people happy."
"You make me happy," Conner said, bumping shoulders.
"Wel
l you are a strange guy," Pippen said, hoping this was also how people flirted. He felt a warmth in his stomach that couldn't be attributed to the beer.
"No argument from me there, love. So, what happened to your classes when you got hurt? I expected to be running to your school and picking up your assignments while you were healing. Are you very behind now?"
"Can I tell you a secret?" Pippen asked, feeling a touch giddy.
"Of course."
Pippen leaned in close so that their faces were near to each other. "I quit the school one semester in. I'd learned the basics by then."
"What? Then where have you been going? What's that homework you've been cooking?"
Pippen smiled wide, he'd been unaware of how good it would feel to let someone in on a secret part of him. "I saw how much they wanted for one semester's tuition and I thought, the library is free. So, I've been studying at the library going through the cooking textbooks unit by unit. If I don't understand a technique, there are always a ton of videos online that are also free. Why pay someone to teach me something I can teach myself? I don't need the degree. Especially because I don't plan on getting a job in a restaurant." From what he'd heard of working in real restaurant kitchens, he doubted he would fit in.
"You…are…"
"Shady?"
"Amazing," Conner said on a laugh. "Can I kiss you again?"
Pippen's stomach fluttered. "I thought that came at the end of the date," he said breathlessly.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 52
