BAD BOY ROMANCE: A Wifey for the Bad Boy (Contemporary Alpha Male Romance Book) (New Adult Alpha Male Romance Short Stories) (11 page)

Chapter Four

              She wasn’t quite sure if what they were doing was dating exactly. They basically lived together, so she saw Andrew every day. And they did things like share dinner, watch TV, fix her sink that one time—it was all so domestic rather than romantic, but she still managed to find herself feeling good around him. Andrew made life better somehow—made her better somehow, and she wanted to revel in it for as long as he would let her.

              “You really need to eat some more vegetables,” Melinda told him as she pushed a cart through the town’s only market. Her gaze swept over the items that were already in the cart. “All I see here are fish, beef, and canned berries.” Her face twisting with disgust, she glanced at him. “Berries taste better fresh, you know.”

              “They’re expensive,” Andrew said, glaring a little. “And there’s nothing wrong with my diet.”

              She led them down the vegetable aisle anyway. And when she threw in a bag of carrots in the cart, he merely grumbled his protest.

              “We could make a stew,” Melinda said, smirking at his childish behavior. “A stew is basically a soup that is so meaty, you can’t even taste the vegetables.”

              Andrew stopped frowning, a look of consent softening his features. He shrugged, and Melinda knew that that was as much of a “yes” as she was going to get.

              “Great,” she said. “I haven’t made stew in a long while, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who is a picky eater.”

              “Not in the slightest.”

              “Thought so. Must have made your parents’ lives easier.”

              His expression hardened, his gaze snapping away from her. The fact that he was trying to hide his face—his anger and discomfort—sent warning signals to Melinda’s brain. Concerned and confused, she frowned at him.

              “You never talk about your parents,” she said cautiously. She had never pushed for information from him before, but now that it was obvious that a small comment about his parents bothered him so much…well, it bothered her. “What were they like? Are they still…?”

              “No,” Andrew snapped. “Let’s just drop it now, okay?”

              She stopped the cart. Defensive anger and flashed inside her chest, as well as a little bit of fear. “I’ve told you about my family, and I hate them.”

              “You don’t hate them,” he said, crossing his arms. “And just because you blab on about your past doesn’t mean I want to.”

              “Your past? I was just talking about your mom and dad.”

              “They are a part of my past.”

              “Why don’t you want to talk about them? Or anything about you?” Eeriness was settling upon her, and she did not like it. She wanted to trust Andrew, but when he acted this way—

              “Because I don’t,” he growled, narrowing his gaze. “Drop it now, or leave. I can do my own damn shopping without you nitpicking every little thing I say or don’t say.”

              Melinda nearly flinched. There was sincere rage beneath his tone, and she wasn’t sure how to respond to it. A part of her wanted to turn this into a real fight—to find out why he was so secretive with her. But deep down, she knew she wouldn’t get any answers from him unless he truly wanted to share them with.

              They continued their shopping in silence—with the exception of the irritated grunts Andrew made every so often. The tension between them clawed into Melinda’s psyche, but shy of screaming at the man, she didn’t know how to calm her own nerves.

              Once they returned to his building, she stormed out of his car and headed for her own apartment. There, she was finally free of Andrew’s eyes and rude noises, and she could breathe with ease.

              She ended up punching several pillows and screaming into them later on, but that is neither here nor there.

              That night, Melinda sat on her couch. Her elbows resting on her knees, she stared at her blank television as her mind struggled with its thoughts.

              She didn’t want to break up with Andrew, but how could she be with someone who was so distant? She had made a horrid mistake with Travis, and she didn’t want to make the same one with Andrew.

              Melinda clenched her teeth, self-loathing smacking her. Andrew was nothing like Travis.

              Sighing, she relaxed and shook herself from her ponderings. She had spent hours dealing with her emotions and thoughts, and she was no more certain about herself and Andrew than she had been in the market. She gave herself permission to give up, and a soothing sensation of sleepiness came over her.

              She stood up and headed for her bed when someone knocked on the front door. Frowning knowingly, Melinda went up the stairs and opened the door.

              Andrew stood there, embarrassment written all over his face.

              “Yes?” Melinda said, cocking an eyebrow.

              He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “Um…I made dinner?”

              “…Is that a question or a statement?”

              He gave her a sour, exasperated look. “I’m sorry, okay? Would you please have dinner with me?”

              Melinda’s eyebrows shot up. All of the turmoil inside her eased away, affection taking its place. “You’re apologizing?”

              He nodded. “I made stew—thought it was a good idea and all.”

              She did coo at him then and brought her hands to her pounding heart. “You sweetheart! And here I thought you were just going to act like a brute forever.” She moved forward—briefly noticing the indignant glare he was giving her—and kissed him. She felt him relax against her, and she kissed him a little harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt him wrap his arms around her waist. It was so warm, so nice.

              At dinner, Melinda was going to let the incident at the market go. As stubborn as she could be sometimes, she knew when not to push an issue. But, as she was slurping up the remnants of her soup, Andrew surprised her.

              “Look,” he said, staring into his empty bowl while he tapped his table. He took a deep breath, his shoulder tensed. “I’m not good at…sharing. At least, not about my family, my childhood—none of that. If that’s a deal breaker for you, tell me now. I don’t want to make things any messier than they have to be.”

              So startled, Melinda nearly inhaled some of her stew. She lowered her bowl and wiped up a bit of food off her chin and lower lip. She stared at Andrew for a long moment, observing the nervous way he fiddled with the fibers of the table. His expression seemed deflated—tired and anxious all at once.

              She thought about it for a moment. “Are you a murderer?”

              Andrew reeled back, worry creasing his brow. “What? No.”

              “Are you a rapist?”

              “No!”

              “Woman-beater?”

              “No!”

              Melinda pouted out her lips and nodded, satisfied. “Then you know what? I think we can make this work. Whatever this is.”

              When he smiled back at her, his eyes flooding with warmth and relief, she realized that it truly was that simple. It only had to be as complicated as they made it, and it seemed that neither one of them wanted to deal with complications.

              Smiling back at him, Melinda reached over and grabbed his hand. “You want to have sex?”

              “God, yes.”

Chapter Five

              Melinda jolted awake, the sound of loud and rapid knocking thrumming through the air. It was pitch black, but she could feel and smell Andrew beside her, and she immediately remembered that she had spent the night with him at his place. Perhaps one of the tenants had some kind of plumbing emergency that needed handling.

              Groaning, Melinda lowered her head to her pillow while she groped Andrew’s muscular arms. “What time is it?”

              “Don’t care,” Andrew whispered. “Too early.”

              She agreed with the sentiment and closed her eyes.

              “KANE!”

              She and Andrew jumped up into sitting positions, her hand squeezing his arm now. Her other hand was clawing into the comforter in her lap.

              The knocking on the door became louder and heavier, like someone was trying to break through the surface. “KANE!”

              “That sounds like Travis,” Melinda whispered. She hated how panic iced her veins and made her shake. Even while holding on to Andrew, the fear of Travis still weighed heavily upon her. “What is he even doing here?”

              “KANE! Where’s my girl?!”

              She stiffened.

              Andrew got out of bed, his hand gently grabbing hers when she refused to let him go. “I’ll handle this.”

              She was shaking harder now. Her nails clawed into Andrew’s bicep. “Andrew—”

              The front door groaned and splintered. “KANE! Where is she?!”

              Andrew tore out of her grip and headed for the door. “Travis, get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”

              Melinda grabbed the comforter, but it wasn’t nearly as reassuring as the feel of Andrew had been. Her lungs constricting, she stared wide-eyed at the darkness—at the impending threat she could not see.

              She heard Andrew walking away from them bed. By the time he got close to the front door, it had burst open.

              Melinda screamed, jumping back.

              There was a little light in the hallway, and it illuminated the outline of Travis’s heaving form. However, his face and the front of his torso were hidden in black shadows; he looked monstrous.

              “Here?” Travis choked out, sounding pained. “She’s here with you?”

              Melinda tensed.

              Andrew snarled, “Get out!”

              Andrew’s body blocked Travis’s from view, but only for a few seconds. Then Travis, screaming obscenities, tackled Andrew to the ground.

              Melinda scrambled out of bed, her heart racing and her skin burning. She could hear the men fighting and shouting at each other somewhere on the floor, but she could barely see them; she couldn’t even make out which man was which, for they looked like one dark blob convulsing on the ground.

              “Stop it!” she cried, forcing herself to move toward them—toward Andrew. “Travis, stop it! I’ll call the cops!”

              Melinda had never expected for Travis to lunge for her. More startled than afraid when such a thing occurred, she cried out as their bodies tumbled over the wooden floor.

              “I loved you!” he sobbed, alcohol on his breath.

              Fear bursting within her anew, she flailed beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape. She kicked and punched him, but he barely moved. Though she was bigger and stronger than most women, Travis was probably too drunk to really be hurt by her assaults.

              He brought his hands to her throat, and Melinda managed to get out a quick scream before he cut off her air source.

             
Andrew,
she thought as her chest began to burn.
Where was her Andrew?

              An ungodly roar erupted inside the room, the walls shaking and the floors quaking in response.

              Melinda nearly fainted, her blood tingling while the rest of her went stock-cold.

              Travis was thrown off of her and across the room, his body slamming into the wall before collapsing to the ground. He screamed, tripped over himself, and then ran out of the apartment in uneven steps.

              Melinda didn’t pay him any more attention. Her widened eyes were glued to the massive
thing
standing in the apartment. The hallway’s weak light revealed the creature’s fur and snout—its teeth, slobbering dripping from them—but the creature’s eyes seemed to glow all on its own.

              Melinda hadn’t ever thought about whether or not it was possible to die from fright alone, but now that her body seemed to be shriveling up and burning beneath the power of her deathly panic, she truly believed that she would die before the monster ever reached her.

              Then, the creature closed its mouth and bowed forward. Slowly, it shrank, its fur disappearing and its eyes becoming more…human. Within a moment, it seemed to have collapsed in on itself until it retained the shape of a man.

              Melinda’s head spun. She hadn’t breathed in several seconds, and she couldn’t muster the strength to do so now.

              “Mel,” Andrew whispered. He was—the man-shape was crawling toward her. “Mel, it’s okay. It’s me.”

              Andrew. Andrew was…what?

              It took her much too long to process all that she had witnessed. It wasn’t until Andrew laid his trembling fingers on her arm did she react.

              Screaming, Melinda flung herself back. Breath entered and exited her lungs at a rapid, desperate pace, the need for escape searing through her very being.

              “Mel, it’s okay,” Andrew repeated, his voice broken. “It’s okay, I will never hurt you.”

              “What are you?!” She hadn’t realized she was moving until her back hit the wall. Her hands slapped back against it, and she felt around for a window or a door—anything she could throw herself through. “What the hell are you?!”

              “I’m a bear-shifter.”

              “What?!”

              Andrew was also breathing strangely; it sounded like he was wheezing. “I can shapeshift into a bear. I’m one of the few people on this earth who can.”

              Maybe it was his tone of voice, or maybe it was how slowly he said each word, but Melinda finally managed to make herself go still. She stared at him—or, at least, at his darkened form.

              “It’s supposed to be kept secret,” Andrew continued, choking on the words. He sniffled loudly and wiped at his face. “That’s all I know, I swear. My dad died when I was little, and my mom didn’t tell me much about what I am—just that it needed to be kept secret. I don’t know anything else about bear-shifters, okay? But I know that I am never a threat to you. Never.”

              Going slack, Melinda leaned back against the wall. Everything was so…crazy and absurd and she didn’t know what to make of it. She was a little relieved that there wasn’t a real bear-monster in the apartment, but a bear-shifter? She couldn’t comprehend it—any of what she had just seen or heard.

              “Please,” Andrew whispered, reaching out for her without moving toward her. She could see his arm shake against the little light that managed to slash its way into the apartment. “Please, believe me. You’re the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I would have told you about everything sooner if I thought…if I thought it wouldn’t scare you away. Please, just…just say something.” A small sob shook out of his throat, and he slapped his hand against the floor as he bowed forward. “Please, Mel.”

              Melinda inhaled deeply. She had never seen Andrew express this much emotion—this much vulnerability. His sincerity, and her trust in him, soothed her fears somewhat. And as she calmed, she remembered what she had thought to herself earlier that day: it only had to be as complicated as they made it.

              She would have laughed at such a thought now, except that she was still struggling to think and feel past her overwhelming shock.

              “Okay,” she managed to breathe out. She swallowed thickly. “Okay…you’re a bear-shifter…that’s unexpected, but at least you’re not a rapist.” When he didn’t say anything right away, her eyes widened. “Right?”

              “Right,” he said, sniffling. “You’re okay?”

              She gave herself a moment to think about her answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I’m stunned and probably in some form of denial right now, but I think I’m okay.” Her gaze flittered over him. “Are you?”

              Andrew snorted, the sound coming out sloppy.

              Melinda smiled. “Right. Stupid question.”

              They remained motionless and quiet for a long while, uncertainty heavy between them.

              “Can I come over there?” Andrew whispered. And his voice sounded so small, it made it even harder to imagine that he had ever been a bear.

              Melinda smiled again and rubbed the spot over her hammering heart. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

              Slowly, Andrew crawled his way over to her. When he was in front of her, he shakily reached out and grabbed her shoulder. The feeling of his calloused hands on her eased away the rest of her tension, and she released a taut breath.

              “Hi,” she blurted, relief making her dizzy.

              An abrupt chuckle popped out of his mouth. “Hi.”

              She grabbed his wrist and squeezed it. Everything was—messed up, baffling, shocking, twisted—fine. Everything was really fine, and despite the craziness of it all, she knew she was safe with the man before her.

              “I love you,” Melinda whispered to him. She could feel herself slowly come back to her senses, and the realization of this calmed her further. Confident, she gave Andrew a watery smile. “I love you, and I want to make this work.”

              “I love you, too,” he whispered. “So much.”

              Her heart soared. Letting her instincts take over, she carefully pressed her hands against his cheeks before leaning forward to press her lips against his own.

              “Let’s go to bed,” he whispered over her mouth, his hand skimming over her hip.

              “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after all that.”

              “That’s okay.” He kissed her cheek before nuzzling against it. “That’s perfectly okay, so long as you’re next to me.”

              Melinda nodded, tears pouring from her eyes. “Okay.”