Page 39 of Wolf's Chance

Why would I expect anything else? “Can youtryto stopbreaking into my house?” He smiled and I knew he was laughing at me. “So, you left.” I decided changing the subject was better. “You weren’t gone for long.”

“No.” Caleb watched me intently. “When you have your visions or dreams or whatever you want to call them, what do you feel?”

“When I realize I’ve dreamt of you?” He nodded once. “Irritated mostly.”

He was unfazed. “Willow, can you try to be an adult?”

“I can be an adult; you just bring out the rebellious side of me.”

“You mean the teenage brat?”

I could continue throwing sass his way, but he was right, we were adults. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. “I feel drained like I haven’t slept. I try to get solid sleep for my health, but even though I know I haven’t woken up, I know that I’m not rested.”

He watched me impassively. “And how long does that feeling last? Do you paint what you saw immediately?” I shook my head. “Do you wake up having painted or drawn me in your sleep?” Again, I shook my head. “What’s the longest you’ve waited between dreaming about me and drawing me?”

“Dreamingabout you?” I scoffed. “You sound like you’re the man of my dreams,” I snorted with contempt. “Trust me, you aren’t.”

“I am quite literally the man of your dreams,” he corrected, his posture all stiff and judgy. “Trustme, I wish I wasn’t. Now answer the question.”

I wanted to swear at him. Quite colorfully. I wanted to callhim names a respectable businesswoman shouldn’t know. I wanted to act like the rebellious teenager he accused me of behaving like. Instead, I pushed my anger down and tried to smile instead.

He would not beat me. “I think the most—sorry, the longest—I’ve left it, maybe a day?”

“And how bad did your ME get that day?”

Frowning, I thought about it. “I…I don’t know.”

Caleb looked away from me as he thought over what I said. “I don’t think it is being near me that causes you to be weak,” he mused. “I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve been in your presence a number of times?—”

“I noticed.”

He ignored my interruption. “And only a few times have you been weakened so much I needed to help you.”

He raised his hand, his fingers sinking into his thick hair, and he rubbed his scalp in frustration. I watched fascinated as the strands broke free of his normal pushed-back hairstyle, and a few curls fell loose over his forehead. It changed the look of him, softened him. My fingers itched to sketch him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice was wary as he pushed the stray hair back.

“Wondering why you’re shaking your dandruff onto my floor.” Oh my lord, yeah…I needed to control my mouth.

Caleb threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don’t have dandruff. You’re safe.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten my tetanus shot after you bit me, so keep yourselfto yourself.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You bit me.”

“I apologized.”

Did he?“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We glared at each other until Caleb let out a low curse and turned away, walking back to my studio. “Show me everything new,” he called over his shoulder.

Nopleaseorthank you, justshow me. I followed him because the quicker I showed him, the quicker he would leave. I hoped. When I was done, he pulled a crumpled-up piece of sketch paper from his pocket. Flattening it out, he looked up at me.

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