I would give just about anything to feel her hand—strong, thin, long-boned, knuckles a little knobby—grabbing my shoulder. That was as close as she got to a hug. But it always had the same effect to me, a child starved for adult attention and comfort.
As it turned out, I was now an adult starved for attention and comfort. I couldn’t remember the last time someone gave my shoulder a squeeze, let alone hugged me.
Just the thought made annoying, unwanted tears sting at my eyes before I blinked them away as embarrassment flooded my system, hoping this hot Way guy didn’t notice them.
He probably already thought I was insane since I clearly didn’t remember meeting him. I didn’t need to have a breakdown in front of him too.
“By reputation mostly,” he admitted, giving me a bit of a smile that I felt myself returning, because I knew what he meant.
My grandmother was somewhat a legend in this little mountain town. She was the local recluse with a sharp wit and a filter-less mouth.
She didn’t go into town often, so when she did, she packed her ancient pick-up truck to the gills with the essentials that she needed. Sugar. Coffee. Mason jar lids. And some hard candies, which had always been her one true vice. The house was full of jars of them. I hadn’t been able to throw any of them away, just dusted them off and left them like decorations, like little tributes to her memory.
“She didn’t exactly have a lot of friends,” I admitted.
“No, she did not,” Way agreed, and there was something in his voice, something almost, I don’t know, dark. But it was gone before he spoke again, making me wonder if I’d been imagining it. “Are you here just to clean out, or…”
“Or,” I admitted, not knowing why the hell I did so.
He was a random stranger.
In the woods.
At night.
Close to the cabin.
Like a creep.
He could be a rapist or something.
“Just me and my boyfriend,” I lied. “He just retired from the NFL. We decided we wanted to come here for a bit of the mountain life before we decide what is next for us.”
I am, in case this is not abundantly clear, an absolutely atrocious liar.
I mean… the NFL?
I could have said he was a construction worker or logger or something that required a lot of strength.
But nope.
I went with the least plausible option.
“The NFL, huh?” he asked.
“Yep.” I mean, what choice did I have but to double-down at this point?
“What position?” he asked.
See, now, this is where lying about something you knew absolutely nothing about kind of worked against you.
“Oh, ah, he was, you know,” I said, waving a hand out in front of me.
“A lineman?” Way supplied, looking thoroughly amused.
“Yes. That’s it. Sorry. I think I must have hit my head really hard last night. I’m having… issues,” I said, reaching up to touch the back of my head.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his whole body tensing. “Do you need a doctor?” he added as he closed the space between us, one of his arms raising and going behind my head, landing on the crown.
And I swear a goddamn electrical current coursed through me. Not like static shock, either. Something stronger. Something that seemed to jolt through my entire system, making me suddenly hyperaware of his nearness, of his scent, of the heat emanating from his body.
Were people supposed to be that warm?
My arm felt suddenly full of lead, making it fall numbly by my side, leaving his hand pressing against my head instead, his big fingers surprisingly gentle as they probed my skin.
“Does this hurt?” he asked, gaze slipping to mine.
“I, ah…” Nope. In fact, it felt really, really freaking good to be touched. Even in such a chaste way. But I couldn’t exactly tell him that, could I? What with my make-believe NFL boyfriend and all. “It’s a little tender,” I admitted.
“Have you been queasy? Lightheaded? Confused?”
“No. No. And… I guess. I’m having issues remembering last night correctly,” I admitted. “Like, I feel like we met somehow. But then I think my brain sort of came up with a strange scenario on its own.”
“Really?” he asked, brow quirking up. “What kind of scenario?” he asked.
I felt the heat spreading across my cheeks, and I didn’t doubt that a blush was staining my cheeks.
“One where you were a wolf,” I admitted. “And then you attacked me.”
“Attacked you?” he asked, stiffening, seeming, I don’t know, offended? Worried? Something like that.
“You like lunged at me and took me down. And then… you turned into a man again.”
“What happened after I turned into a man again?” he asked, and I was suddenly aware that his hand had stopped probing, and his fingers were instead starting to gently massage my scalp.
I damn near melted.
Other girls could have the foot and back rubs. Those had never been my jam. But scalp rubs? I could damn near purr with pleasure right then and there.