Page 23 of Cursed Wolf

So, I stayed and worked and continued dodging texts from my parents and my old coworkers at the clinic. The staff had been shocked at my sudden firing and demanded to know what had happened. I didn’t completely ignore them, but I kept my answer vague.

Some had caught wind of the rumors about Dr. Stone’s confrontation with the big biker, but I neither confirmed nor denied it. Tryn wasn’t from around here, he was just passing through and would likely never show up again. Dr. Stone was a powerful figure in the community and had much deeper pockets than mine. I absolutely didn’t want to say anything that would make him come after me for slander or whatever. So I said nothing and waited for it all to blow over.

I’m just in a transition phase, I told myself. Like the space between chapters in a book. The last era of my life has ended, and the new one hasn’t begun yet.

It was a slow weekday afternoon shift, just after the lunch rush, when I heard it.

The tables had been cleaned and I was hanging out with Joey, trying not to hover over the few customers with their coffees and newspapers, when a low, distant rumbling grew increasingly louder.

“Your knight in shining armor returns.” Joey, who was taller than me, grinned as he looked out over the road leading up to the restaurant.

“What?” I didn’t even deny what he said, stretching on my tiptoes, but I couldn’t see over the parking lot. “Are you messing with me?”

“I’m a hundred percent serious. Did you ever call him?”

I lowered my heels to the floor and turned away from the window. “Um, no.”

“Why the hell not? I thought you two were into each other?”

“I dunno,” I mumbled, my face growing hot. “That was such a weird day.”

I was certainly into Tryn but wasn’t sure he felt the same. Sure, he gave me a number, but why make it a six-digit one? He wouldn’t have forgotten to write his whole phone number down, would he? But if he wasn’t interested, why would he come back?

We do serve good beer, and he is confident, I reasoned. He’s confident enough to not avoid a place entirely over...whatever giving a fake number means. Letting me down gently, maybe?

I could see Tryn now, handling his motorcycle with masterful ease as he parked right in front of the restaurant. He wore a black leather vest over a white T-shirt this time. I caught a glimpse of the insignia on the back as he dismounted but couldn’t quite make it out. Some kind of animal skull.

Before Tryn reached the front door, I scurried off to the sound of Joey’s snickering. I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder but kept walking. He knew what I was doing—trying to look busy. Trying to look like I wasn’t waiting for Tryn to show up.

He wasn’t the something I was waiting for, despite every cell in my body lighting up with delight at his arrival. No, a tall, intimidating but disarmingly polite biker was not the start of the next chapter in my life. As fun as that was to fantasize, he couldn’t be.

By the time I checked on my few customers and casually wandered back to the bar, Joey had already set Tryn up with a beer.

“There she is.” Joey ended whatever small talk they were engaged in to stare pointedly at me.

I glared daggers at him in the split second before Tryn turned in my direction. “Hey, Emmaline. Nice to see you again.”

The deep warmth of his voice betrayed nothing. His smile was polite, nothing more. He seemed a little guarded.

“Hey, Tryn. Right back at you.” I leaned against the back of a barstool, unsure of what else to do.

“Working today, huh?” He took in my apron and work clothes.

“She gets off at four,” Joey cut in before I could answer. With that, he headed for the back room, whistling loudly.

Now alone, Tryn and I both laughed nervously. “I’d kill him if he wasn’t training me to bartend,” I said, trying to diffuse some of the tension that permeated the air between us.

“He trying to be some kind of matchmaker?”

“It seems that way.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Tryn said with an easy smile. “There’s no hard feelings, and I can take a hint.” He turned toward the bar like the conversation was over.

I stared at his handsome side profile for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He looked at me again, confusion knitting his brows together. “I mean, you never called me, so I figured...” He trailed off but lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not upset or anything. Just thought I’d shoot my shot, but like I said, no hard feelings.”

I shook my head, even more confused as nervous laughter bubbled out of my mouth. “I thought you gave me a fake number.”

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