Page 44 of Rejected Exile

"I've been sleeping in what's technically the guest bedroom," I tell Finn, tossing him a roll of painter's tape so we can cover up the electrical outlets in the room. "It feels too weird to sleep here. I mean—I don't even listen to these bands anymore, or any of... well, any of this."

"Yeah." Finn glances around one more time, then gives me a wry look. "Want to tear this room down to the studs?"

"God yes."

"Let's do it then." He holds up his roll of tape. "This is for the outlets, right?"

"And the crown molding. Plus we need to pull all the furniture away from the wall." I drag my finger down the pink embossed floral wallpaper and cringe. "The sooner this crap is gone, the better."

"Then let's get to work."

I could've done all this on my own, but as Finn sets his shoulders and drags my old bed to the center of the room with a flick of his wrist, I admit that it's much easier with a male werewolf at my side. We get everything covered up in no time, which means we just need to scrape at the edges of the wallpaper to get it peeled away, score whatever doesn't come up easy, then spray it down with hot water until it sloughs off the walls.

Just as we're about to finish up taping off the crown molding, and I'm in my head again, wondering why my father left my old room this way, a sound jerks my head up. The door to the bedroom just closed suddenly, almost like a draft of wind slammed the door.

"That's odd," Finn comments, going to the door. He grabs the knob—and it falls off into his hand. "That's even odder."

I'm about to make a joke when I hear the front door slam. Jumping to the window, I pull it open to stick my head out—and spot Roarke's truck pulling away from the curb, along with Lance's sedan.

In the passenger seat of the truck is a familiar face. Shoving her head out the truck window, Cat calls out from a distance, "We're going to run some errands and pick up lunch! Be back in an hour."

I curse and open my mouth to say something rude back—only to remember Finn is standing right behind me, completely oblivious to my foster mother's machinations.

She's just trapped me in a room with an absolute hottie for at least an hour, possibly more if she gets her way by delaying the errands. I have no doubt that if I scream anything at her, she'll just pretend she didn't hear, and Finn will think I'm a nutjob.

Turning to him, I sigh. "Looks like we're stuck in here. Guess we might as well get the job done."

"That's one way to pass the time," Finn murmurs, his eyes dancing as he tosses the doorknob onto my old twin bed. "I can think of a few others, though."

Fifteen

Delilah

"Other things?" My voice comes out a squeak, which is uncharacteristic of me, damnit. Normally, I'm the one making the moves and double entendres—something about these werewolf males just turns me into a stupid puddle. "I don't know."

"You don't?" Finn cocks his head and gives me a smooth once-over. "I think you do, Delilah."

There's nothing I can say to that but, "Oh." Also, "Uh."

Finn chuckles, smoothly approaching me. He stops a few steps away, reaches out, and brushes his fingertips against the side of my arm. Just the fingertips—trailing up and down my skin, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

I shudder as my skin tingles.

Finn purrs, "As I said, I think you do, Delilah."

"Yes, but—" Groaning, I make myself take a step away from him and get some space between us. "We shouldn't, uh, do anything... like that."

"Oh?" He raises a brow. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No, but—"

"So you're single. Free." A smile curls up his mouth, and his eyes trawl across the blush spreading down my neck and chest. "And attracted to me. Don't deny it—I can smell it on you. Tell me, then, why we can't enjoy ourselves, as two single adults?"

There's some kind of objection, but my mind can't seem to come up with it. Being so close to Finn is draining every thought from my brain. So I try to get some space from him. But as I shift to the right, he prowls to the left, circling me in a loose and relaxed way that reminds me of a predator even though I don't feel a bit like prey.

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