Page 215 of Secret Shifters Next Door

“What does that mean?” I asked, shocked at the way Felicity was acting.

“What I mean is that Miles and his friends are a bunch of degenerates. You need to stay away from them if you want to remain safe. Safe and uncorrupted.”

I crossed my arms, trying to subconsciously protect myself. I had no idea where this was coming from. Was she being hurtful because I said I wasn’t coming over for Thanksgiving? That seemed ridiculously childish.

“Their own families don’t even want them,” she went on. “What kind of people are so terrible even their own kind don’t want them around? And don’t get me started on their wives.” She made air quotes around the word wives. “They’re just as sad and pitiful as the men.”

My anger rose. I almost never got angry. Shy, embarrassed, uncomfortable? Yes. Angry? Not usually, but it was rearing its head listening to her talk about Miles and his friends.

“Felicity, my parents didn’t want me either. They got rid of me, so what does that mean? Do you think the same way about me?”

“Celina, you know that’s different. You’re a…” She stopped, almost like she was about to say something, but held off.

“I’m a what?” I asked, my voice rising. Suddenly, I wanted to be anywhere else, around anyone but Felicity. “You know what, I don’t care. I suddenly don’t feel very good. I think I’m going to go home.”

Felicity’s face changed then. She looked almost panicked. “Wait, Celina, no. Please, I’m sorry. I haven’t had a good day. I didn’t mean to?—”

“Enough, Felicity. Goodbye.”

I stood and walked out, too emotionally exhausted to stay and try to let her apologize. I was drained and upset. How could she say those things? What had gotten into her? As I walked to my car, I wondered if I’d made a mistake trying to be friends with her. Maybe Miles had been right about her after all.

There wasn’t anywhere in town I wanted to go, so I went straight back home. Once I was in my apartment, I collapsed into the couch and stared into space. I really wanted to talk to someone, but the only person I knew well enough was Miles, and he was probably at work or something. As upset as I was, I still didn’t want to bug him. Instead of calling, I sent him a text. Then he could see it and respond on his own time, and not feel hurried.

He called me back almost immediately. “Celina? What’s wrong?” He sounded worried. I’d never had anyone care about my wellbeing the way he seemed to.

“I didn’t have a great day,” I said, my voice tiny and sad. I felt awful for it. Even in my own ears, I sounded pathetic.

“You don’t sound like yourself. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come pick you up.”

I told him I was at my apartment, and true to his word, he was there in less than ten minutes. I met him outside and climbed into his truck. He pulled away and started driving without asking questions or pressing me for information on why I was so upset. It was a kindness that made me like him even more.

After driving around for nearly half an hour, I took a breath and finally spoke. “I had a fight with Felicity.”

His hand tightened on the wheel, the knuckles white and taught for an instant before relaxing. Still, he didn’t press me. No questions. Instead, he nodded and shot me an encouraging glance.

“She said you and your friends were loners. Unwanted. That you were somehow terrible for that. It made me feel awful because if that’s true, then I’m terrible. I was unwanted, too. I don’t know your story, or your friends’ stories, but the way she was talking, she thought you were all bad guys.”

Miles sighed and looked, for want of a better word, conflicted. “Listen, there’s a lot of ground to cover when it comes to me and my past. The same goes for Tate, Blayne, and Steff. I don’t think you’re ready to hear all that. It’s a long story. I can promise you this, though, once you meet the guys and their families and make your own conclusions about them, I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”

He made it sound like something top secret. What could a few guys have in their past that was so hush-hush? I knew they weren’t bad people, but sometimes good people got caught up in bad things. Was that what the truth was? Had they done something terrible in the past by accident? Or had they been forced to do something? My writer’s mind skittered across dozens of possible scenarios, but none really made any sense. Instead of diving too deep into the black hole of possibility, I did what had now become second nature. I trusted Miles.

I nodded. “Okay, deal.”

We drove around for several more hours, talking, as he showed me more of the area I’d been living in for the last few weeks. As the sun started to set, he turned to me. “How about dinner?”

My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. I hadn’t eaten any breakfast and only had two or three bites of food at lunch before I stormed out. I nodded. “I’m starving.”

“Okay. There’s a little place down the road here. They sell—and this is gonna sound weird—the best meatloaf sandwich you’ve ever had.”

“Meatloaf sandwich?”

He laughed and held up his hand. “You just gotta trust me. That and their homemade fries are gonna change your life. Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later, we were seated in a place that looked like a cross between a dinner and a grandmother’s living room, but the food smelled amazing. We drank our drinks as we waited for the food to come out.

“What are you going to do about Felicity?” Miles asked.

“I have no idea. I’m not used to having friends, but even I can tell she’s acting weird. It’s like she did a full one-eighty. I don’t get it.”

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