Page 41 of Werewolves Don't Howl
“Yes?” He said it so formally, like we were at a ball only just introduced, not dripping water and shockingly bare-skinned.
“Do you think that you could pull off being a steady boyfriend for me at home?” I gripped the edge of the pool while I waited for his answer, but I kept my face blank. Hopefully.
He studied me thoughtfully. “I can very likely pull off anything. That will be particularly easy as we’ve been living together and I’ve been studying you for a long time. What impression do you want to give? That I’m desperately in love with you and only waiting for you to be ready before I ask you to marry me, or that I’m still considering the implications of a serious relationship and am more interested in seeing your family dynamic to give me more information before I allow myself to become more involved with you?”
I stared at him. “Do you overthink everything?”
“Yes.”
“So you thought about whether you should torture me?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I thought that I shouldn’t torture you. I never questioned that.”
“But you did it, anyway.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t think about it, so that’s okay.”
“I thought about killing you. I considered it quite seriously, but it never seemed the right time, and then you transitioned and the question became irrelevant. So, which sort of relationship would you like me to cultivate?”
I shook my head while my heart twisted in my chest. He just said it so casually. Torturing me took the same emotional effort as deciding what kind of fake relationship we should have. “No way my dad would buy it. You’re too calculating.”
“Then I won’t try. I’ll just be with you and not try to be anything.” He reached up and pulled me into the water. I barely got the chance to gasp before I had to hold my breath as I plunged down.
I came back up almost immediately right next to him. I grabbed his strong shoulders and dunked him, holding him down while I kicked to stay upright.
I finally let him come up, and he did, but he grabbed me and pinned me to the pool wall while he hung over me, looking gorgeous, wet, and impossible.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“It’ll be a good photo,” he said, droplets of water glistening on his lashes.
“What photo?”
“For the exposé. You’ll need all sorts of photos.”
“Not me, just you.” My heart pounding against him as I stayed in that vulnerable position, his eyes going to my lips until they started to burn.
My phone rang, and I turned and scrambled out, bumping him because he wasn’t giving me enough room, but he didn’t back away, only followed me out of the pool, grabbing his towel while I grabbed my phone.
“Hello?” I answered, drying off.
Nanette said, “Delphi, I need you to get to Union Station. They found a body encased in the cement under the stairs. I know that you’re not actually our investigative reporter, but as long as Loren’s out, you’re up. Got it?”
I froze. They found a body at the Union station? Where Lynx had that constellation symbol? Cue creepy music. “Sure,” I said slowly, glancing at Cross and his ridiculous pectorals. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Great. I appreciate it.” She hung up, and I was left to head for the pool house.
“What was that?” Cross asked, following me with his towel slung over his broad shoulders in a way that I was trying not to notice.
“None of your business. The last time I told you about my work, you drugged me.”
“Ah, so it’s something to do with Lynx. Henrick will take you.”
