Page 23 of Meant for Them
Part of me thinks I’m really dumb for not taking the already-paid-for home that Alex set me up with, but I don’t think I want him to have access to me, even if he doesn’t use it. I don’t like the idea of him even knowing where I am, because I’ll be unsettled and expecting him to show up anytime and stir up trouble.
Really, I’ve put this shift off long enough.
I take advantage of the empty house, and I borrow a T-shirt from Troy’s room before locking myself into the bathroom, breathing deep and stealing myself for the pain of shifting. The longer I go without, the more it hurts to do.
Considering this is the longest I’ve gone in one form, I know it’s going to be a bitch.
It doesn’t take much reasoning with my wolf to cede control, she gives it up gladly, leaving me to stand on rickety legs that don’t want to hold me up.
It’s my own damn fault that I’m too weak to stand. My own damn fault that I immediately fall over and smack my forehead on the doorknob. Fuck.
“Wolfie? What was that— you okay? Hold on, I’m coming up!”
Should have known they would have been listening in case I needed them. “I’m fine! Just hit my head.”
I’m met with silence at first, and I realize that was the first thing they’re going to hear from me. That could have been a much better impression.
“Um, hi? You want to open the door for me sweetheart, so I can see?”
It’s Troy, the one who found me, and apparently that’s a theme for him. He’s right up against the door, breathing against it, and I feel so awkward using my voice. Up until recently though, I very rarely ran around in my wolf form.
“I’m kind of naked at the moment…raincheck?”
I hear muttered curses which make me bite my lip with a smile, and I’m scared to turn the shower on lest it drown out any sounds he might make.
“Do you…need to borrow some clothes?”
I can just picture him, out there practically pacing, wanting to help but also wanting to give me some privacy. “I grabbed some already, hope that’s okay. I’ll just be a few minutes; I want to give my hair a good washing and scrub my face before you guys see me for the first time.”And probably the last time, I add in my head.
“That’s—yeah, that’s…fine. Good. Yes, that’s good.” Okay, now I do smile because his voice cracks. “Just uh, take your time? We’ll be around. If you need us, that is. Not listening in or anything.”
“Good to know, Troy. Thank you.”
More cursing.
I crank the water to be as hot as it will go before grabbing a washcloth and availing myself of every type of soap they’ve got in that perfectly clean tiled shower, because I’ve never felt so dirty in my life.
I can hear Troy out there, just barely, pacing up and down the hall in case I need him again, and that…makes me strangely comfortable.
I have way too much damn hair. Maybe I’ll borrow some scissors later and give myself a good trim.
By the time I’m out, my skin is rubbed raw, so I dump a bunch of lotion onto my skin I find under the cabinet, breaking the seal on it and hoping they don’t mind.
I almost feel like my normal self again when I try to finger comb through my tangles because I can’t find a brush. I wince at the mark on my forehead, then remember to check out my leg because I told myself I didn’t have to look at it until I was out of the shower.
There’s still a pink scar that’s looking a hell of a lot better than I imagine it did a few days ago, and because of how long the oversized splinter was stuck there and how much I fought with it, I’m sure that scar will be with me for a while, but at least it’s somewhere easily covered.
Knowing there’s no use trying to hide the big goose egg on my forehead, I hang up my towel and take a deep breath, having to count myself down to turn the handle and walk out into the hall.
I peek my head out first, nearly headbutting Troy. “Oh, sorry!”
He reels back, bumping against the wall behind him. “You’re…fuck. Yep, knew it. We’re all screwed. Fuck. I said that already, didn’t I? I’m sorry, but you’re fucking gorgeous. And I’m…I’m so filthy dirty right now from gardening. I promise I’m usually cleaner than this. I really do bathe regularly.”
I smile at him and attempt to untangle more knots in my hair, quickly giving up. “I know. I’ve been here, remember? I’mMorgan, by the way. Sorry you had to wait so long to hear that. I just…needed some time, I guess.”
He steps forward and picks up my hand, ensconcing it with two of his. “We’d wait as long as we needed to. I’m just happy you’re feeling well enough to shift back for us. I heard you fall, you okay? Ouch, I see. Okay, come on. You need an ice pack.”
He offers me his arm, which I don’t really need, but take nonetheless, and let him guide me down to the kitchen like I don’t know where it is.
