Page 17 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

Gods, I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t even hate having him around. Part of me looks forward to seeing him sprawled out on the couch in the morning, dead asleep, with his ears twitching.

“Number thirteen just twisted his ankle, he’s out in the third quarter and we’re down 3 points. We’re looking at a surge.” Carly Beth says, her voice low, settling next to me. “Emilia?”

I turn, “Yeah? Oh, isn’t that the quarterback? Shit. Okay.”

She grabs my shoulder, “Wait, there’s something different about you tonight. It almost looks like . . . Emilia, you’reglowing.”

My hand goes to my cheek, “I am?”

“Did you get laid?”

“What?! No.” I nearly knock over the bottle of tequila in front of me.

“Shame.” She replies, shaking her head, and ripping a page from her ticket pad and slapping it on the small opening to the kitchen, “Two bacon burgers and a side of onion rings.” She turns back to me, placing her hands on her hips, “I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

“Don’t remind me.” I bend down and grab a couple beers, placing them on her tray, “It’s going to be a good thirty minutes before I can take a break.”

Carly Beth snaps her fingers at me, “Thirty minutes? It’s a date. Maybe then you’ll tell me what’s got you all worked up tonight.” She flashes me a brilliant smile and returns to the floor with the tray.

There’s no way I can tell her the truth.

It’s not that I don’t trust her. I just never felt comfortable introducing someone to the world hidden in plain sight. Imagine learning that magic is real and fairies and vampires exist, and in fact, one might even work the night shift at the post office.

I don’t have an actual confirmation on that one. Moonstone Ridge, despite its magical name, isn’t full of supernaturals as far as I have seen and no one is rushing to out each other.

Shouts erupt from the floor, and I jump, looking up to see the substitute quarterback running towards the ten yard line, hopping over the opposing team to roll into the end zone, scoring 6 points and giving us the lead again with less than two minutes until the fourth quarter.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

I smile and shake my head, taking advantage of the lull to put away the stray tequila bottles back onto the shelf behind me when I catch movement in the mirror.

No, no, no. It can’t be.

Chase walks through the door, searching like a bloodhound, until he finds me in the mirror. I can read his body language from here, the tense jaw, the emotionless stare. He’s pissed and making his way over to the far end of the bar. He’s waiting for me to make the first move, just like old times.

I rub my hand over the amethyst bracelet, my heart racing, wondering if Silas will get here in time if I need him. Should I call for him?

From the looks of it, Chase just got off of work. He’s still wearing his navy polo from the factory, which means he’s been able to keep this job at least. Unless that’s why he’s here.

With a couple of steadying breaths, I walk down the bar, stopping in front of him.

“Evening, Emmy.” He says, barely looking up from the plastic menu in his hand, “Are you still running happy hour or am I late?” He sets it down hard, finally pinning me with a glare.

“I thought we agreed my workplace was off limits.” I keep my voice low, touching the bracelet again.

He watches me, “You also agreed to be faithful to me.”

It’s so ridiculous that it makes my head spin, “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I met your new guy. How long have you been fucking him?” He leans over the bar and I catch a whiff of alcohol, he’s been drinking, “Was it while we were still together?”

A crackle of magic pierces the air, and I turn to see Silas step out from the hall leading into the back room, his eyes filled with fire. How? He must have teleported somehow.

“I know good and well no one here in town would touch you,” he looks me up and down, “I’ve ruined you for everyone else.”

Silas searches around the room, then looks at me with a question in his eyes. It takes me a moment to realize he’s asking for permission.

I shake my head no.

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