Page 36 of Rejected Exile

"Right. Safety."

Feeling the urge to babble come on, I grab onto the doorknob—which means letting go of my pants. They sag a little as I back up into the house, the door creaking behind me, Finn's face full of amusement as Roarke refuses to look directly at me.

One step back. Two. I'm almost inside the house, and I can taste the moment I'll be able to slam the door shut and run down the hallway to my bedroom—when suddenly I back into something very solid in my path.

Expecting it to be a bookcase that Cat moved, I turn around, confused.

And straight up into Lance's broad chest as he also turns, right behind me. It takes a moment for him to face me and look down—straight towards my torn, ragged clothing that barely hides anything. He quickly looks up and away, then smoothly steps back from me.

"Are you okay?" He asks, voice grave. "I heard a commotion from the front porch, but I thought it was just some loose boards getting pried up. Then you didn't come back in, so I decided to come check—"

"I'm fine!" Throwing my hands up, I demand, "Will you guys justchilland stop hovering over me?"

A moment later I realize that by raising my hands, I've let go of the ragged edges of my jeans.

Which are now no longer held together by anything except a few stray threads and the wishes of this one embarrassed girl. Because each step I took to get back here pushed them to the edge—and now those edges are falling apart.

I feel it as the waistband slides down beneath my ass. As the torn panels give up the ghost. And most of what I was wearing beneath the waist pools around my ankles.

Leaving nothing but the pink satin panties edged with lace to cover my lower half.

Cheeks heating, I don't bother saying anything to Lance, who's staring in wide-eyed shock with his lips slightly parted. Before I can do much more than breathe in the scent of him—fresh snow, evergreen needles, and mint—I spring away and dash down the hall towards my room.

By the time I make it inside and slam the door, my jeans are somewhere on the ground outside, along with my dignity.

* * *

A good thirty minutes later, I'm standing in the bathroom wearing fresh clothes, my hair blowdried and up in a ponytail, a reasonable amount of makeup on my face. The only thing left to do is psych myself up to leave the room and face the three men I just embarrassed myself in front of—easier said than done.

"You can do this, Delilah." My own eyes stare back at me in the mirror, full of doubt. "Well, you probablycan'tdo it with anything approaching dignity, but you have to try. It's not like you can hide in here all day."

This should be nothing, damnit. I've been through far worse than this. I was rejected by my mate, exiled by my father, and lived on the streets for months before Cat took me in. But somehow that all pales compared to the freshness of theincident,as I'm currently thinking of it.

It would be one thing to accidentally wind up half naked in front of Roarke; that's horrifying to consider, but at least we grew up together, so he's seen me do dumb shit before. Lance and Finn both just met me—and now I've made a hell of a first impression.

Who am I kidding? It's almost more embarrassing in front of Roarke. I left town for seven years and came back to discover he'd turned into a total smoke show. He's probably going to tell Kieran all about it the first chance he gets.

"Delilah." There's a knock at my door, and Cat's voice carries to me. "Can I come in? Are you decent?"

I groan. "Come in."

She does, and I watch through the open bathroom door as she settles on the queen bed. Her face turns thoughtful as she bounces up and down on it—"they don't make spring mattresses like this anymore"—before she gives me an appraising look.

"I don't know why you're hiding in here," she declares. "I saw you run ass-first into Lance with your pants around your ankles. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

I choke on incredulity and have to clear my throat. "Seriously?"

"You took the advice I've always given you." A wicked expression crosses her face. "You wore the underwear you'd like to be found in if the EMT is hot."

Laughter bursts out of me. I can't help it. "Technically that's true. So why don't I feel any better?"

"Because those young men are hot enough to climb," she says bluntly. "Hell, if you don't try to get to the peak of one of those mountains, I just might."

"Cat!"

"They say cougars are in." Her eyes dance with mirth. "Besides, there are no female werewolves around here. I can't have that much competition."

Groaning, I walk over to the bed and sit beside her. "Was it really that bad?"

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