Never Have I Ever (11 page)

Ana stood from the chair, wobbling at the pins and needles that shot through her feet, asleep from being in the same position all night. As much as she wanted to hole up in here forever, it wouldn’t help. She had to face Taylor sooner or later, and she figured it was kind of like ripping off a Band-Aid…better to get it off as fast as humanly possible.

Her natural optimism kicked in as she brushed her teeth, trying to get rid of the cotton-mouth feeling she had. Her clothes from last night—a flannel shirt, sweater and jeans—were rumpled, but she didn’t feel like changing them. Slicking her hair back from her face made her look, if not fashion-model material, at the very least presentable.

She’d misheard.

Yup. That was all there was to that whole werewolf thing. She’d misheard and the mishearing had played a trick on her brain to where she’d thought she’d seen her husband’s eyes switch colors. Yeah.

As she made her way downstairs, she was unnerved by the hushed silence in the house.
Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.

Concerned, she made her way to the kitchen. It was so quiet she jumped to see Eli standing in front of the kitchen sink, arms braced as he stared outside. He was shirtless, his golden skin looking far warmer than she felt.

She cleared her throat. He must have been lost in thought because he jerked before pivoting. “Ana. Hey.”

Whatever hope she might have had that the events of last night were the result of a tequila-fueled nightmare vanished when she caught a glimpse of his exposed neck. Bright blue bruises were plainly visible in shapes that appeared suspiciously like fingerprints. She winced just looking at them. “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

She lightly touched her hand to the base of her neck. He mimicked the gesture, rubbing his fingers over the wounds. “Right. No, not at all. They probably look worse than they are.”

Ana licked her lips. “I feel like I’m constantly apologizing on Taylor’s behalf lately.”

“Please. I knew the risk I was courting when I said what I did. I didn’t expect him to shake my hand when I revealed something that was really none of my business.”

She’d wondered who would open that door first. “So…why did you?”

His gaze was far more somber than she’d ever seen it. “Because I love Taylor and I like you, and I want your marriage to succeed. You can’t build a life together on half-truths.”

Ana twisted her fingers together. Was he talking about the photos…or the other?
“I’m not sure what the truth is anymore.”

“He loves you. You can take that to the bank. Probably more than he loves me. And I’m so egotistical, if I’m admitting that, you know it can’t be a lie.”

Stop dancing around this subject.
“I think I misheard you last night.” She forced a half-laugh. “I could have sworn you said that he was a werewolf. But I get today that you meant that figuratively, like he was a lone wolf…” She trailed off as he shook his head slowly. “Um. You really meant werewolf?”

She half expected, no,
wanted
him to laugh, slap his knee and ask her how naïve she was. But he just stared at her, his blue eyes burning, and nodded.

“And you guys didn’t happen to have some sort of college fraternity called the wolves or anything, right?”

Negative.

Thank goodness the kitchen chair was pulled out for her. She sank right down into it. “Well then. And are you…?”

Another nod.

“Oh.” She tried to think of the pertinent inquiries a mere puny mortal should ask a creature of lore. Only one important question could come to mind. “Are there a lot of you?”

Eli shifted against the counter. “Not many, not full bloods. So many have intermarried with humans that there are only a few who can still identify or carry the traits of a wolf. Our pack is about a hundred strong, and we’re one of the larger ones.”

Ah. A hundred werewolves. A hundred pennies wasn’t a lot of money. A hundred M&M’s would barely fill her candy dish.

But a hundred furry creatures of untold strength? Hmm, that didn’t seem like not many to her. And that was just in this one pack. How many packs were there? Was it like the Boy Scouts where every group had a number and they got together once a year to plot overthrowing the human race?

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

She shook herself out of imagining a bunch of half-wolf people learning to tie knots out of human flesh. “You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking of full moons and howling and salivating ugly creatures who want to chase you down and bite you.”

“Oooookay, so you have a small idea of what I’m thinking about.”

Eli’s mouth turned down. “Jeez, I’ve been campaigning for years for the packs to come together and launch some sort of solid PR campaign. This is just ridiculous. Look. We’re really not that different from you. Yeah, we have our own little society, but it’s only because we do better amongst our own kind. We’re born into this, so biting you really doesn’t help us much at all. We might just be a little stronger, a little faster…”

“Can you shift into a dog?”

“A wolf.”

“Is there a difference?”

“My ego likes to think so.”

“And Taylor can…”

“I’ll let Taylor explain what he can or can’t do. He’s his own special person. He’s like us, but not.”

Her laugh was surprisingly bitter. “I have to wait for Taylor? Maybe he’ll explain it to me when we’re in a nursing home, then.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Ana, those photos…”

She shook her head once. “Don’t. Clearly there were a lot of things that Taylor didn’t tell me.”

“We were young, and a little crazy. I had no idea anyone was taking pictures. We didn’t do it for posterity’s sake, I can tell you that.”

“Why did you do it?”

He chewed on his lip. “Once again, I can’t speak for Taylor. I did it because it was fun and because…our basic urges, to eat, drink, hunt, fuck, are strong. At that age, it’s really hard to control it. As we grow older, we’re more able to keep it under wraps.”

What did that mean for her husband? “Then it never goes away.”

“No. Not entirely. We’re all a little rougher than normal humans, but mostly because the sexual hunger is a bit stronger for us than it is for humans. Plus, the whole natural-hunter thing. Makes it tough for us to be vanilla in bed.”

Hurt pierced through her. “He was able to control himself pretty damn well around me. What does that say?”

“Um. Are we talking about the same man? ’Cause I saw him race through the woods and take you down like a gazelle. If that’s not the definition of losing control, I don’t know what is.” His tone softened. “Talk to him, sweetheart. Taylor’s always been a bit of an enigma to most of us. I know you feel like he hid stuff from you, but when it comes down to it, there’s probably no one who knows him better than you.” He jerked his head to the window. “For example, I have no idea what he’s doing out there.”

“What?” She jumped out of her chair, walked to the window and peered out. Through the softly falling snow she could see Taylor sitting on the steps leading down the back porch to the backyard. His head was uncovered, his coat nowhere to be seen. The white T-shirt and jeans he wore were his only protection from the cold.

“That idiot!”

She raced out the door, not even feeling the wind, to stand behind him on the porch. “What the hell are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, and then dropped his head into his hands. “I’m fine.”

“Come back inside.”

“I don’t feel cold.”

Oh God, wasn’t that one of the first symptoms of frostbite? Where was Google when you needed it? She tried to soften her voice. “Please, Taylor. I want to talk to you.”

“What’s the point?”

Why the hell had she gone and married such a Debbie Downer? Oh, yeah, ’cause she loved him, secret-keeper or not, wolf or human.

Frustrated, she plopped down on the porch behind him, uncaring that the snow on the ground immediately seeped into her jeans, wetting her butt. “Well I’m not going inside until you do.”

“Don’t be foolish, Ana.”

She set her jaw and glared at his broad back. Unfortunately, the glare didn’t last long as she noticed that his cotton T-shirt was so thin she could see the tan of his skin under it.

Minutes passed, both of them too stubborn to get up. The wind was cutting through her sweater, but at least she had it. She picked at a loose string of yarn on the hem. Hell, her flannel shirt alone was better than his tee all by itself.

She’d unraveled a solid three inches, her eyes roaming over the wide expanse of his inadequately covered back, before she gave in to the urge. Whipping her sweater over her head, she scooted forward on her knees to lay it over her husband’s shoulders.

It looked as if a child had laid a sweater over a giant’s back. He stiffened, touched the wool on his shoulder and then glanced behind him. A frown crossed his handsome face. “What the hell are you doing outside dressed like that?”

It wasn’t easy to speak indignantly when one’s teeth chattered. “T-trying to get you t-to come inside.”

“You little…” He shrugged the sweater off his shoulders as he stood. A second later, the world spun.

She stared down at the porch from her position tossed over his broad shoulder.

“I may throw up,” she informed him.

“Good. Maybe that’ll help warm you.”

She reared up and looked around as they entered the kitchen and he kicked the door closed behind them. Eli was nowhere to be seen, thank God, as she was positive this position did not showcase her best side.

Taylor didn’t stop there, or in the living room. He took her upstairs and dumped her on their bed. She scrambled off, not wanting to get the bedspread wet. This was good, this was great. They were alone, they could talk…

“Take those clothes off,” he said tersely and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

D’oh.

Since there was no point in catching pneumonia, she did strip off her clothes, shivering the whole time. She was down to her bra and panties when he came back inside carrying fresh towels. He took one look at her goose-pimpled skin and cursed viciously. After dumping one towel on the bureau, he enveloped her in the other one’s folds and rubbed it briskly over her skin. The rough terry felt good against her, but she didn’t know if it was the towel that warmed her or his hands.

He certainly wasn’t trying to turn her on. His touch was impersonal at best. He toweled off her hair and then grabbed the other towel and wrapped it around her, keeping her arms inside so she was swaddled in it. He dropped her on the bed and pulled the quilt over her.

“Your clothes are wetter than mine were,” she said.

He whipped off his shirt and attacked his jeans next. “Don’t ever do anything that stupid again. The temperatures up here drop suddenly. You can’t wander around dressed inappropriately.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle—hmmm.”

“What?”

She swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth as Taylor briskly wiped down his hair and body. God, her husband looked divine naked. “You were wearing less than me.”

He jabbed a finger at his chest. “I have a higher body temperature than full humans. Which means that it would have to be full-on blizzard conditions for me to really be in danger from the cold.”

I don’t feel cold.
“Oh.” He didn’t feel the cold. Because he wasn’t fully…human. From a purely educational standpoint, she wondered how that worked.

His lips tightened. “Let me get dressed and I’ll leave.”

Her jaw dropped open. Anger rose. “Now you’re being a chicken.”

“What?”

It was hard to act indignant when one was trussed up like a turkey on the bed. “You’re a chicken. What, things get tough and you wanna just run? I got married for life, Taylor. I told you that when you asked me. And yet, at the first sign of trouble, you want to go brood out in the snow. I won’t tolerate it. I deserve better than that.”

“This isn’t some stupid argument, Ana. I lied to you. I hid something…”

“So tell me!” She wriggled on the bed. “Talk to me.”

He tossed the towel to the ground, giving her a great shot of his tight ass, the two globes of tanned hardness flaring out from his narrow waist. Grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, he pulled them on, the thin cotton conforming to his thighs and buttocks. “I don’t even know where to start.”

A little white lie here could be forgiven, right? “I’m still cold. We should share body heat.”

It hurt to see how tentative he was about crawling into bed with her, gauging her response to being near him. She struggled and removed her hands from beneath the towel, wrapping them around his neck and drawing him closer to her body. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to suck her right inside of him.

She rubbed her fingers through his short black hair, the spiky rough strands clinging to her fingers. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to talk, so she tried to guide him.
Start with the big thing
. “Werewolves exist.”

“Yes.”

She thought of what Eli had said. “Everywhere?”

“Close enough. Eli’s territory used to only cover these mountains and the surrounding towns, but Eli’s dad took over most of New York and New Jersey.”

“And you’re one of them?”

“Yes and no. I’m only half wolf.”

Half wolf. Well, that was…no less fantastical. “Eli said you weren’t exactly like him.”

“No. Eli’s bloodline is pure. Superior.”

Loyalty made her hug fierce. “He’s not superior to you.”

“In our world he is.”

He didn’t say anything more, just stared down at her, his green eyes bleak and hopeless. He raised his finger, tracing it over her eyebrows, her nose, her lips. There was something different in his touch, like he was trying to memorize her features. An unknown fear clutched her heart. Seeing how difficult this was for him diminished some of her outrage. “Tell me the whole story, Taylor. Please.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a second she wondered if he would refuse, but she couldn’t have that. “Are we going to get divorced?” she blurted out.