“I haven’t lost yet.”
They’d claimed the pool table in the far corner, which gave them the best view of the large space. It also allowed Zander to track Gwen’s movements as she worked. Watching her walk around in shorts and a tank top was distracting, to say the least. Still, he was kicking Derren’s ass at pool. But then she bent over to pick up a coaster from the floor, and Zander understandably missed his next shot—it was the black ball, to make matters worse. Derren was immature enough to smirk about it.
Zander propped his cue against the wall as he downed a gulp of his beer. Hearing Bracken curse, he looked to see that the wolf was finally abandoning the pinball machine. Good, because all its bleeping and blooping was getting on Zander’s damn nerves.
“What time is Gwen meeting Kenny tomorrow?” Ally asked.
“Midday,” replied Zander, voice unintentionally hard. He didn’t want Gwen anywhere near that son of a bitch, but he knew the meeting needed to go ahead. They’d arranged it a week ago during the call she’d received from Kenny, which had been the day after she’d gotten her warning from Geena. “I don’t like it.”
“You were the one who said Geena’s suggestion was a good one, remember.”
“Doesn’t mean I like that Gwen and Kenny will be in the same room together.”
Overhearing that, Bracken sighed as he reached them and said, “Yeah, I don’t like it either.”
“Hey, who is that guy that keeps staring at Gwen?” asked Ally. “Is he one of the Moores?”
Zander didn’t need to look to know whom she was talking about, because he’d already noticed. Placing his bottle on the tall, high table where the other drinks rested, Zander said, “No. That would be Aidan, Gwen’s old therapist.”
Ally sneered, no doubt remembering all he’d told his pack mates about the human. “Asshole,” she muttered.
“Yeah, he’s definitely that,” agreed Bracken.
“Clearly my warning to stay away from Gwen didn’t penetrate,” clipped Zander.
Careful not to knock the rack of pool cues, Bracken leaned against the wall. “Well, to be fair, he’s in a public place, and he’s on a date.”
“Sitting in Gwen’s section of the bar,” Zander pointed out. “He thinks that being in a public place means he’s safe.”
“Damn,” cursed Derren. “Your shot, Z.”
As he got a good look at the table, Zander understood Derren’s frustration. The wolf had managed to pot all balls but the black, and the white ball was lined up perfectly to hit it. Zander effortlessly sank the black and then leaned the cue against the table just as Gwen approached to take their empty glasses and bottles. That lush mouth kicked up into a smile as her eyes met his.
“Come here,” he growled. She did, and he pulled her close, splaying his hand possessively on her lower back. He kissed her, growling in satisfaction as her body fairly melted into his, fitting against him a little too perfectly. His wolf took in her scent, letting it drown out the distasteful smells of dry chalk and green felt.
Gwen smoothed her hand over the solid bulk of his shoulder. “Why are you so tense?”
“I don’t like that Aidan’s here.”
She shrugged, nonchalant. “He always comes here when he’s on dates.”
“Does he always sit in your section?”
“Yes. But if I ask him to move or for one of the other waitresses to switch with me, he’ll think he bothers me. He’ll get a kick out of it.” Gwen nipped his lip, smiling at his low growl. “Now let me go. I’ve gotta work.”
Zander put his mouth to her ear. “If we were alone right now, I’d have you flat on that pool table with my dick in you.” He snaked his hand under her tank top just to feel all that soft skin. “On second thought, it wouldn’t be so bad if Aidan was here. Then he could see me taking you. He’d get that you’re mine.”
She arched an imperious brow. “Yours?”
“Mine.” He stroked the mark on her neck with his thumb. “Another shifter would see this and understand exactly what it meant—that you’re off-limits, that you’re not to be touched, that there’s someone who’ll raise fresh hell if you’re harmed. But a human . . . they know what the mark is, but they don’t get the true extent of how serious it is. That makes me antsy.”
“Zander, I think the humans here know that you consider me taken, since you’re rubbing yourself all over me like a cat.”
“Again with the ‘comparing me to a cat’ thing,” he complained.
“You know what I mean.” Gwen straightened, pushing against his chest. “Now I really have to work. Be good.” Collecting the empty bottles and glasses, she said a quick “Hi” to the other wolves, took orders for more drinks, and then disappeared.
Ally twisted on her stool. “Now there’s a guy staring at you.”
Zander followed her gaze. A tall, burly male was studying him closely through narrowed eyes. “That’s Gwen’s future brother-in-law, Chase. He owns this place. From what I understand, he’s protective of her.”
“And part of you is offended by that,” Ally sensed. “You feel that protecting her is your job. There’s no point denying it, Zander. I can sense what you’re feeling.” She crossed one leg over the other. “I like Gwen. She’s good for you.”
Yeah, she was, but Zander wasn’t the heart-to-heart type, so he said nothing.
“She doesn’t have any emotional expectations of you. She doesn’t pressure you to open up. You needed that at first. It was the only way you were ever going to know that, really, you don’t want distance.”
What he really didn’t want was to have this conversation. It felt like he was being profiled. Made him feel exposed to know someone could read him so well. Gwen was good at reading him, but he didn’t mind that so much—it didn’t feel like an imposition, though it probably should have. So Zander concentrated on the game that Bracken and Derren were playing, hoping Ally would take the hint.
“Marlon’s told me a lot about her,” continued Ally, unfortunately. “Enough for me to realize that, like you, she doesn’t give much of herself to people. You both seem to back away from anyone who pushes. But you didn’t like that she backed off and gave you space, did you? You wanted her to push. You wanted to know her, and you wanted her to want to know you. Over time, she stopped backing off and dropped her guard a little. But the irony is that if she hadn’t given you space in the beginning, if she hadn’t fought to keep a distance from you, you might never have seen that you don’t want it because your defenses would have stayed up.”