“Deke, what the fuck? You know you can’t get too close to a human—”
I don’t give him any warning. I leap into the air and let my wolf rip out of me. The t-shirt shreds, tearing painfully on my twisted limbs. But I was always quick to shift.
By the time Channing knows what’s going on, I’ve leapt over my bike. He scrambles off his bike a second before two hundred plus pounds of black wolf hits him in the chest. We both go down—him and his crotch rocket, and me on him. He swipes at me, his hands changed to massive paws, but I jump off him and dance away.
“Fuck,” he shouts. “Motherfucker.” He rises, struggling to get free of his clothes. He sees his bike lying on its side, the shiny paint scratched on the road, and he gets even more stupid with rage. “You’re going to fucking pay for that.” His claws tear at his clothes. Stupid fucker’s gonna have to ride home naked. He’ll take it out of my hide. I had the element of surprise, but once he’s in wolf form, we’re pretty evenly matched. When he’s riled up, like now, he can tear me up.
Good.
A growl splits the air, and a giant white and brown wolf stalks stiff legged towards me. Channing the wolf lowers his belly almost to the ground, his ears back and teeth bared, ready to pounce.
I grin like a maniac and brace myself, waiting for pain.
Sadie
When I’m back in my apartment, I set down the untouched platter of cookies on the table and check my phone. I’ve got missed calls from Adele, Charlie and Tabitha. I sigh and dial Adele.
“Sadie!” She answers on the first ring. “Thank God. Are you home?”
“Yes.” I toss my keys onto my countertop. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re coming over. Be there in fifteen.” She hangs up.
Well, shoot. I hurry to put a few dirty dishes away in my sink and wipe a few coffee stains off my counter. Then I open a bottle of red wine, a blend Adele bought for me. After tonight, I need a glass of wine.
Who was that guy on the motorcycle? He was one of Deke’s friends, but he didn’t act like it. He totally cockblocked Deke. And me.
What’s the lady equivalent of cockblocking? Muffin Muzzle? Beaver Damned? Clit-erference? I’ll ask Tabitha, she’d know. Whatever the female equivalent of cockblocking, that dude Deke knew did it to me.
Did I really want to have sex up against a wall with Deke in a dark alley way?
Yes, my ovaries shout. Yes, we want his surly biker babies!
My ovaries were never so vocal when Scott was around, and Scott, by outward appearances, would have made a far more respectable father of my children. It’s so weird. I never would’ve said that tough-looking biker was my thing.
Never in a million years.
I slosh wine into a glass and take a gulp.
Adele knocks on the door, and when I open it, I realize who she meant by we. Adele tromps in, followed by Tabitha and Charlie.
“Oh, hello, everyone,” I say. “I have wine.”
“We brought extra,” Adele says. Both Charlie and Tabitha lift the bottles they’re holding. Adele heads straight for my small kitchen and makes herself at home, grabbing three more glasses and pouring wine for all. I let her take over—Adele’s a chef, so my kitchen is in good hands—and head to my cozy living room.
“You doing okay?” Tabitha trails me, and we both settle on the couch.
“Of course,” I answer noncommittally although my voice is noticeably subdued. I haven’t even asked why they all dropped everything to come over. I think I already know.
Charlie drops into her usual seat—a bean bag chair I keep next to the fireplace. Both she and Tabitha look at me expectantly. I knew they’d figure out something was up with me and Deke; it was only a matter of time. It’s a small town, and word travels at lightning speed. If anyone saw us in the alley tonight, the news would get back to my friends immediately.
Instead of asking who saw what, I turn to Tabitha. “What’s the female equivalent of cockblocking?”
“Clam-jam,” Tabitha replies immediately. I knew she’d know.
“I prefer Pussy Putt,” Charlie says.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tabitha retorts.
“Twat Blocker,” Charlie offers, and she and Tabitha start arguing about sports metaphors involving vaginas.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Adele strides into the living room. She doesn’t sit but stands with her back to the kiva fireplace holding her wine, looking down imperiously at all of us before her focus sharpens on me. “Sadie, do you have something to share with the class?”
I sigh. “Who spotted me?”
“I did,” Tabitha raises her hand sheepishly. “And I was worried, so I told everyone.”
“What exactly did you see?”
“You with the big bad biker at the plaza tonight,” Tabitha says. “I was going to come over, but after I was done texting everyone, I looked up and you’d disappeared.”
Adele searches my face, looking concerned, “You know we were joking about you hooking up with a biker, right?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, I kind of thought the idea had its merits.”
All three of my friends stare at me in shock.
“He’s actually quite sweet.”
“Sweet?” Charlie repeats dubiously.
I hasten to explain. “Last night, Scott tried to ambush me, so I asked Deke to help me out and pretend to be my date. And he did. He’s really nice.”
“Hold on. Back up,” Adele says. “Scott tried to ambush you?”
“Yeah. I guess he installed a tracking app on my phone, so he knew I was in the plaza. And then he knew I’d get a rideshare home because it was Whine Wednesday, so he parked himself at the rideshare stop, so we could talk.”
“My goodness. He’s gone from delusional to full blown stalker,” Adele says.
“I’ll kill him,” Tabitha mutters.
“I’ll help,” Charlie says.
“But it’s all good. Deke helped me, and Scott backed off.”
“How did Deke help? Did he threaten Scott?”
“Not really.” I think back on those beautiful moments when I had the big biker beside me, silent and strong. The best kind of backup. “He had my back while I made myself clear to Scott. Then he reaffirmed what I said, invited me on his bike, and we rode off together.” I can’t stop the stupid grin from stretching across my face. It’s the only crazy thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I’m quite proud of it.
“You did what?!” My friends explode as one.
“I can’t believe you rode off with him,” Tabitha gasps.
“Did you let anyone know where you were?” Adele asks. “Take a photo of his license plate? Anything?”
“You got on his bike? So cool!” Charlie says.
“No, not cool,” Tabitha frowns at Charlie. “She got on a strange man’s bike. He could’ve motored to the middle of nowhere, and we’d never hear from Sadie again!”
“Yeah, but she’d get to ride that awesome motorcycle first,” Charlie points out with her tongue firmly in cheek and then ducks when Tabitha mimes throwing a pillow at her head.