by Isabel North
Elle flung an arm over her eyes to cut out the glare of sun from the curtainless window. Now she was awake.
She’d never in her whole life been kissed like that. It was the most outstanding sexual experience she’d ever had, which didn’t say much for the relationships in her past that she could get her mind blown with all her clothes still on.
Only one other experience even came close.
Despite her best efforts to forget, she remembered that day with excruciating clarity. She’d been sixteen and doing her best to pretend that everything was normal at home, they were a stable and happy family. Her mother had split two years before, Jenny had morphed from sweet baby sister to tween fiend, and her father had decided to give himself a break and stop hiding the fact that he was a raging alcoholic.
Back then, Elle had a single goal: get to eighteen and stay off Social Services’ radar with no one finding out how bad things were and taking Jenny away. And then that boy, the one she’d seen watching her for the whole school year, just jumped on her out of nowhere.
He was a transfer student. Tall, husky, with acne. Intense. Fascinating-looking, rather than good-looking. Scary as hell, with a feral, dangerous vibe that was bone-deep, and nothing like the typical self-conscious teenage male swagger. Always getting called to the Principal’s office for giving the teachers attitude. As he was a senior to her sophomore, she never witnessed the classroom ’tude, but she could imagine it.
Despite what happened between them, she didn’t even know his name. Alan? She thought it was Alan. After the day he kissed her, everyone called him…something else. Before, she doubted they called him anything at all. He seemed like the loneliest kid in school. Or in the world. She never saw him talking to anyone, never heard him speak at all.
Elle knew he watched her. She didn’t mind it. She knew what lonely felt like. She’d even found herself turning to him a few times, thinking about going over to say hi. He was always gone before she could make a move, though. It was like he had an odd awareness of exactly where she was in relation to him, managed to stay a few steps ahead. They barely ever made eye contact.
In fact, now she thought of it, they never made eye contact. Not until that day. The day he crossed the hall, snatched her off her feet, and stole her first ever kiss.
It was…what was the word? Spectacular. She’d always imagined her first kiss would be great. What girl didn’t? But spectacular? She’d spent her entire dating life searching for something as passionate as that moment, something that pulled her clean out of reality into some other dimension of heat and sensation and, God. Everything.
Kissing her so well that nothing ever matched it was the second worst thing that weird boy did to her.
As for the absolute worst? He made her a laughingstock.
She didn’t know how long it took people to notice him consuming her right there. Couples kissing by the lockers, not the strangest sight in high school. Kissing like that, though, fierce and absorbed and dominating…probably that caught people’s attention. Elle heard the calls and shouts but only vaguely, lost as she was, dizzy and thrilled and soaring. She thought maybe someone tried to tear him away, but he wouldn’t let them, and she held on to him just as tight. Almost nothing could have separated them. Almost.
That was when it got embarrassing.
Elle shuddered at the memory of what had happened next. She’d managed not to think about that crazy boy for years. She’d trained herself to not think about him, to let him fade so she could stop comparing every other kiss to his. But last night, finally—finally!—she’d felt something that measured up. No, she thought, pressing a hand to her lips. Better than. It was better than that. Sure, tough to choose between them; they were after all kind of similar. That heat, that strangely attractive hot scent, that bizarre feeling of alignment, even though their heights were mismatched and he’d had to lift her or bend over her to reach… Elle sat up.
“Shit,” she said blankly.
The gargoyle man and the weird boy were the same guy.
Elle ate a piece of toast over the sink, staring out the window at the landfill/backyard with a faint horror that was sliding into dull acceptance, when Jenny clomped in.
“Woah,” Jenny said.
Elle turned to her, brows up.
“What are you wearing? Most moms doing the school run are in yoga pants and breakfast stains, trust me. You’re a bit formal.”
“I think you look wonderful, Auntie Elle.” Katie wrapped her arms around Elle’s hips and smiled up at her. “Like a business nun.”
Elle swallowed her last bite of toast. “Business nun?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned down and dropped a kiss on the top of Katie’s head. “Thank you, honey.” She was wearing a suit, so she got the business bit. The nun? Who knew? “This is for after I’ve dropped Katie off,” she told Jenny. “It’s not formal. It’s smart. And it’s from when I was in college.” She raised both arms above her head, fists clenched in triumph. “I still fit!”
“Such a dork.” Jenny shuffled to the coffee pot. “So why are you wearing a suit, which was ugly when you bought it and hasn’t aged well?”
“It’s just a suit.”
“It’s hurting my eyes.”
It was a navy pantsuit. Ish. Navy-ish. The color had faded a bit. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t awful. She thought, at least until the business nun comment, that she was rocking a retro Scully from The X-Files vibe. Guess not. “I’m going to swing by the clinic and I figure it can’t hurt to make a good impression, right? I sent my application in a month ago and I never heard anything back. Not the best sign.”
“What if they filled the job already?”
“I’ll beg for part-time shifts, cover shifts, whatever I can get. Start there. Oh, I called a plumber. I’m assuming you’ll be in today?”
“Where am I going to go?” Jenny gestured at her leg.
“Good point. Right, kid. You ready?”
“Yes!” Katie jumped up and down.
“I admire her enthusiasm,” Elle said to Jenny. “You, I had to lasso and drag to school.”
They left Jenny on the front porch. Elle dropped Katie at preschool and pointed her car in the direction of the clinic. Instead of taking the turn, however, she headed back out of town toward home, drove right past the house, and kept on going until she hit the Adams place again.
She switched off the engine and sat there.
What am I doing?
She shifted on the seat, switched the engine back on. Off again.
Okay. She wasn’t here to apologize, since he’d kissed her, and she had nothing to apologize for. But she should explain. Right? It was the polite, neighborly thing to do. Since she’d barged uninvited into his barn, interrupted him in the middle of fixing some wreck of a machine or whatever it was, grabbed his ass, announced she had a demon in her toilet, and ran. She winced. She wasn’t a runner, damn it. She wasn’t a coward. She was going to reclaim her pride, be a grownup and… Oh, bullshit. You just want to ask him if he’s that boy.
Get out of the car and go ask him, then. Dork. Ugh. She dropped her forehead to the wheel for a moment. Jenny was right. She was such a dork.
Elle climbed out, slammed the door, and looked up at the house.
He was there on the porch, watching her.
Awesome.
While she’d slept the sleep of the righteous, he—Alan?—looked like he hadn’t slept at all. He wore the same clothing as last night, minus the boots and with a plaid shirt unbuttoned over the tee. He lounged on a beat-up wooden chair, his long legs stretched out in front, a steaming mug of, mmm, coffee, she could smell it from here, cradled between his big hands. Elle recalled with a sudden flip of her stomach what those hands had been cradling last time she’d seen him, and promptly turned purple.
Great start. She pondered running again, reminded herself she was a strong independent woman with self-esteem, a backbone, and he’d already seen her. She carried on up to the
house.
“Morning,” she said, hovering at the bottom of the steps.
“Come up.”
She hesitated. He smiled at her.
This was new. She’d seen him angry and on the hunt for ice cream. She’d seen him focused on his work, focused on her. She’d felt him laugh. She’d never seen him smile.
Shouldn’t a smile make him more attractive, more approachable? Boyish? It didn’t. His face had the harsh kind of masculine beauty that even humor couldn’t soften. In fact, his smile made him more dangerous.
Without realizing she’d moved, she climbed the steps. He waited until she was on the porch with him before he stood up.
Elle’s head tipped back. “What are you, six three?”
“Six four.”
“Right.” She wasn’t here to ask him about his impressive height. What was she here for again?
He studied her for a long moment. Slowly, holding her gaze with his intense dark eyes, he leaned down and kissed her.
It wasn’t the same ruthless assault on her senses as last time. It was almost more overwhelming. A light touch. He gave a contented hum and straightened. “Morning.”
“Yep. Sure.” She fisted his shirt and brought him back down. She heard the clink of his mug—must have placed it on the railing beside her—then his hands were hard around her waist, his tongue was hot against hers, and she sighed.
He squeaked.
Elle froze, then pulled back. Not far, because he wouldn’t let her. They stared at each other. “Did you just squeak?”
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and shook his head once. “Wasn’t me.”
Was it me? Then she heard it again. A faint, bubbling squeak. Something pushed at the back of her knee. She stared up into his face. He was trying not to laugh. “Something’s behind me, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Gargoyle.”
Elle closed her eyes briefly. If I turn around and see an actual gargoyle, I’m going to lose my shit. She glanced over her shoulder.
Wolf.
Okay, not quite as bad as a gargoyle, but still.
Wolf.
She tightened her grip on Alan as the wolf mumbled around his mouthful of…something…pushed against her leg again to make it squeak, then opened his mouth and dropped a damp teddy bear coming apart at the seams onto the boards. He smiled up at her, and just like that he went from potential predator to goofy pup. A sixty-pound pup, but still.
“Nice teddy.” Elle grinned. “He’s not a wolf, is he?”
“Husky. Mostly.”
“Gargoyle the Chunky Monkey fan. He’s a cutie. Is he friendly?” She crouched down to pet the dog. “You’re friendly, aren’t you, cutie pie? Eww. Damn, that’s wet.”
Gargoyle had picked the bear up, dropped it in her lap.
Alan scooped up the bear, whipped it across the lawn. Gargoyle streaked after it as Alan helped her to her feet.
“Okay, then,” Elle said. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. Well, not sorry. I’m not apologizing—you participated. Share the blame. Scratch that, there’s no blame. It was a kiss. Nothing wrong with kissing. Anyway, I had a point. Right.” She trailed off. “This is awkward.”
“Is it about the toilet demon? You need me to come over and take care of it for you?”
Wow. Whether he thought she had an actual demon in her toilet or just the regular horror, that was incredibly generous. “No need, but thanks. Called a plumber. I came over to ask…” Just say it. She put her hands on her hips. “Alan? Is that you?”
He shook his head slowly. “My name isn’t Alan. But it is me.”
“Al…Alec?”
“Alex.”
Elle considered him. He returned her gaze without blinking. “It’s possible I’ve got the wrong guy here.”
He lifted her chin with a knuckle, gave her a fast, hard kiss, then waited for her to open her eyes. “Now tell me you’ve got the wrong guy. You know me. You know this. Trust me. I’m your guy.”
Hell yeah, he was. “I thought it was Alan. Your name. I always thought of you as Alan.”
His gaze intensified. “You thought of me?”
“Uh—”
“I thought of you. A lot.” He scanned her head to toe and said again, voice deeper, “A lot.” Then he sighed and followed it up with something in Russian.
Elle twitched. “See, that’s another thing. I don’t remember you being Russian.”
She didn’t remember much. She’d been such a coward as a teenager. Too afraid to ask anyone about the weird, misfit boy in case—gasp and horror—they thought she liked him. And afterward, after how it ended? Not a chance she could ask about him then. “I remember being confused, mostly. Alex. Why did you kiss me?”
“To prove you recognize me.”
“No, not just now. Before.”
“Good morning kiss.”
She bit her lip. “I meant before that.”
“Hello again kiss.”
Elle blew the hair out of her hot face. “Not last night!” He was playing with her. “The one before that. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I know.”
“So?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”
“Why do you think I kissed you?”
“I have no idea!” It had kept her awake at nights. Why? “You just came at me. Out of nowhere. I have no explanation for what set you off. There was no warning! I was totally unprepared!”
He’d been frowning at her jacket, but at this his face cleared, as if something that had been confusing him now made sense. “Ah,” he said and flicked her lapel. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks. I’m going to an interview.” She faltered as he ran a finger down the lapel to the single button and slipped it free.
He brushed the sides of her jacket open, slid his hands in to flex around her waist. “You wore it here as some kind of armor, didn’t you? Trying to put me off?”
She grasped his wrists to hold him still.
“As you can see,” he ducked his head to say, “it’s not working.”
For fuck’s sake, armor? The suit wasn’t that bad! She had the railing at her back, him all along her front, and she was starting to see why Jenny was always wary and red-faced around Derek. It was hot, but it was disconcerting to be so easily manipulated by a man who was so wildly unapologetic about it. Any other guy treating her like this, she’d Mace him, but Alex? She sucked in a breath as his hands, back under her suit jacket, drifted up and down her sides. She poked him. “Hands! How’d you like it if I did that to you while we’re trying to have a conversation!”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “Did what?”
“This.” She grabbed him, trying to match his aggression. “Ooh, nice shirt, mind if I stick my hands up there?”
“Don’t mind at all,” he murmured. “And that’s not my shirt.”
It wasn’t his shirt. She had two extremely firm handfuls of denim. Right. She’d gone for his ass again. She moved to the shirt, tugged at it, waiting for him to stop her, but he didn’t. Quite the opposite.
He arched over her and whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Well, that backfired. Alex read the expression on her face and stepped back, giving her some space. Gargoyle pranced over and snuggled up beside her.
“For me it wasn’t out of nowhere,” Alex said. “You never noticed me before then, but it was eight months of trying not to do it.”
“I noticed you.” Elle placed a hand on top of Gargoyle’s large head and tickled him behind the ear. He groaned in ecstasy. “First time I saw you, I noticed you.”
“Smitten by my good looks? My sunny charm?”
“I thought you were the angriest and loneliest person I’d ever laid eyes on.” Except for her reflection in the mirror. They locked gazes, and she eventually said on an exasperated huff, “Why did you never come say hi?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Thought about it. I tried a couple of times, but you were always walking away. My turn. Why
didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “You seemed too…anxious.”
Elle felt mildly insulted. “Anxious?”
“Yeah. Anxious. Hyper-aware. A bit too careful, all of the time. Like you were always trying so hard to fit in. It looked exhausting.”
He was right, painfully right. And he was wrong. She hadn’t wanted to fit in. She’d needed to fit in. She’d been trying to blend.
Alex watched her knowingly. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d welcome all the shit people would give you for befriending the weird transfer student. Besides, I was a dick back then. You wouldn’t have liked me.”
Startled, she laughed. “How very noble of you. Until you jumped on me. And then people talked. And talked and talked.” She could feel herself blushing just remembering it.
“I embarrassed you.”
“Nope. You humiliated me.”
He scowled. “I didn’t mean to. I never even meant to approach you at all.”
“You approached the hell out of me in front of the whole school! Why?”
“Like I said, I was a dick. I was angry. You were the one shining point in my life. You were my light. And I was a teenager. Hadn’t exactly learned how to control myself. Unlike now. I’m exerting great control.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. He shifted, the lines of his body setting in a way that made her skin prickle. “I was your light?”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “My sun. My guiding star.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“You didn’t know me, Elle. I knew you.”
Bullshit. “Tell me three things.”
He held up a finger. “Your father was a drunk.” Second finger. “You were raising your kid sister damn near single-handedly, and were terrified Social Services would separate you if you ended up in foster care.” Third. “And you had no idea that you lived right next door to me.”
“You knew where I lived? Isn’t that a bit creepy?”
