Page 29 of Beware of Dog

“Okay!” she said, too loudly, too defensively. She threw her hands up. “It’s—I wanted to be part of that crowd, too, okay?”

His nostrils flared, silent disgust. “Why?”

“Because…” There wasn’t a way to make him think she didn’t sound ridiculous, so she just let it come pouring out, for good or ill. “Because school is hard, Shepherd!”

His brows gave a doubtful twitch.

“No, don’t say anything. I know there are things that are much harder. I know I’m being young, and stupid, and a brat, and—but it’sdifficult, having a foot here and a foot in the club. Not that you care. Not that you understand that. Dad, and Raven, and Phil, and King, and Fox, and everyone wants me to go to college, and do my art, and get away from the life, until something frightening happens, and then I can’t go to school, and I have to be guarded”—she gestured to him—“and I’m completelyabnormal once again, until it’s convenient to send me back to my dorm and—"

“Breathe.”

“Iambreathing,” she snapped. “And I’m trying, quite unsuccessfully, to complain about being nineteen, and hopeless with boys, and hopelessly uncool, and hopelessly clueless about which direction I want my life to take.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted to be an artist.”

“Yeah, and how will that work when you come sweeping into a gallery show and bundle me off because the club’s in danger? What happens when someone finds out who my family is and decides to kidnap me for ransom?”

He sat up, spine rigid with tension again. “I dunno. Raven makes it work.”

“I’m not talking about Raven, I’m talking about me!”

“Well.” He threw his arms out, expression frustrated. “What do you want me to do?”

It was the second time he’d asked her that. He looked as helpless now as he’d looked before, like he wanted todo something, but had no idea what.

He was the only one in her life, currently, who seemed to care.

She knew that wasn’t fair to Raven, or to any of her family. Of course they cared. But it was passive care; they were content to rock along until she spoke up.

But here sat Shep, arms spread, expression expectant, ready for action.

Inexplicably, it broke her heart.

“Nothing,” she murmured. “There’s nothing I want you to do.”

He stared at her hard a long moment, jaw set at a mulish angle, and she almost caved. Almost said,I want you to come sit next to me, and hold me like you did on the sidewalk, but I’m not drugged this time, and I want tofeelit. I want you to kiss me, and pay attention to me, and…

Even as the fantasy skipped through her mind, she recognized the selfishness of it. Yes, she wanted to be kissed, and touched, and held, but she couldn’t ask Shep for that just because he was convenient.

(Yes, convenience, that’s why you can’t stop thinking about him in a gym shower, an unhelpful voice at the back of her mind chimed in.)

He shifted forward, leaned toward her, and for one wild, heart-stopping moment, she thought she wouldn’t have to ask for it, that he’d simply offer it.

Then the door opened, and Jamie poked her head inside. “Um. Is it okay if I…?”

Shep sighed and stood. “Yeah, come in, I’m leaving.”

Jamie slipped into the room and all but fell over herself in an effort not to get near him.

Shep noticed, and shook his head. But paused at the doorway, and glanced back at Cass, whose heart was still lurching and struggling. God, she wanted him to kiss her. That was the first time she’d consciously thought such a thing, but she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She was introuble.

“Call your sister,” he said, and she rolled her eyes, because it was what he always said. But then: “What do you want for your birthday?”

“Huh?”

“Your birthday.” Was it her imagination, or did his voice take a gruff, not-quite-comfortable turn? “It’s coming up. What do you want?”

She was stunned.

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