Page 17 of Conner's Luna

I shrug, tightening my grip so she doesn't slip away again. "Right now's good." She is quiet as I walk to my truck and open the passenger side door for her. She doesn't budge. "Get in."

Her arms cross over her chest. "I don't think this is a good idea, Conner."

"Why the hell not?" I snap. Why won't she let me take care of her? Aggravating female!

"Why are you so mean?" she blurts out. Her flashing eyes meet mine before her gaze falls away. Her face turns red.

"How am I mean?" I ask her. My wolf is growling at her. He wants to show her who is dominant here. Pin her down and put his canines right on the sweet pulse at her neck. Defiant wolves get hurt when they don't listen to their alpha. She's fragile, this little human. No way should she be defying me.

"To those kids in the lab."

Trey's little minions. Shit. "Bailey, those kids were eyeing you like a piece of meat. The only reason why they didn't bully you was that I was there. I only said two words to them. Give me a fucking break!"

"Don't curse," she mumbles. Her blush is embarrassed, now.

"Get in the truck," I order her. She glares at me but silently climbs into the car.

I get in and slam the door. Starting the engine, I look at her. She meets my eyes steadily and shocks me. "I'm sorry, Conner. I know you were just helping me. I just don't like bullying." My wolf eases down as soon as she apologizes. Damn, she has him by the tail and she doesn't even realize it. Yank, yank, puppy-dog.

"S'ok," I mumble. "I shouldn't have cursed,"in front of you, I add silently. Fuck those little pricks and their hurt feelings.

"The cemetery is in Durham, That's over an hour away."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," her eyebrow quirks and she smirks at me. "Are you offering to let me eat in your truck?"

"Yeah?" I look at her, confused.

She giggles and looks around the interior of my pick-up. It's clean, but it's not a biggie if I get a few crumbs. I know how to use a vacuum, ya know?

"You're not a typical boy, you know that, right?"

"You have no idea, Ballet," I grin back at her.

Her nose wrinkles, "Why Ballet?"

"I like it."

"OK, Conman."

"Shit," I curse.

She scowls, "pottymouth."

"Whatever, princess."

"I like Ballet better."

"Whatever you say, Ballet."

I pull into McDonald’s and see her fidget. "What do you want, Bails?"

"Umm... can I have the side salad and French fries and... a coke?"

"What sandwich do you want?" I ask patiently.

"No sandwich."

---