Insolita Luna Read online

  PC seemed to be taking it a little more in stride than he had earlier. Maybe I was just keeping him drugged with my touch, or perhaps he was operating on the hope that his lycan mother would swoop in and save the day by figuring out how to break us apart. I knew he was looking forward to freedom from me, but as improbable and impractical as the bond was, I already found myself liking it. It felt good to be connected to him. I wasn’t fully sure I wanted it to be broken.

  The fact that I’d even thought that for a second freaked the hell out of me. I tried to steel myself, to pull away and not get sucked into the necessity of his touch.

  Don’t even think about that road, let alone go down it. Remember how it felt when you were nearly dying earlier. Practical, Miles. Be practical.

  My resolution of practicality lasted for about thirty seconds, until it was completely engulfed by the swarm of butterflies that took flight in my belly when he reached over and sank his fingers into the tingly sensitive hairs on my neck.

  We didn’t talk much. The shop was busy all night, but I had to admit I liked glancing over and seeing him reading on the end of the cash register counter, coffee in hand. I’d been shocked when he wandered over to my register with a steaming latte for each of us. Apparently he’d dared to go where no man had gone before… behind Megan’s temple of caffeine perfection. And I’m sure the results were nearly as good as hers. Too bad I was too distracted to taste it.

  Normal everyday details, like the taste of coffee and whatever it was the customers said to me, didn’t seem to matter in the scope of the whole night. I was still reeling in the surrealist quality my life had suddenly taken on. I still couldn’t quite grasp the fact that PC was real; he really was the wolf I’d seen in the alley, and he was perched with a book only four feet away, shooting me cute, knowing smiles when he caught me watching him.

  And every single time the store was empty, I’d drift over or he would stand and come to me and before I knew it, we’d be touching, kissing, hugging each other close and breathing in slowly. A huge part of me was itching to talk. I still had questions, ones I wasn’t sure he even had the answers to.

  Plus, I wanted to get to know more about this guy I was connected to so closely, the guy who already had the power to make me feel goofy and giddy and fluttery, like I couldn’t stop smiling. We were so physically comfortable with each other, it felt like we’d been together our whole lives, but all I knew about him was his name and the unbelievable but undeniable fact that he was human and a wolf and he existed… and that when he kissed me, it felt so good I never wanted to stop.

  I wanted to close the shop early that night. With the events of the past few days, I felt like I deserved an hour or so off. Unfortunately, a fairly consistent string of customers kept coming through the door. Every time I thought I could close down and turn off the lights, one more came in. And since the sign on the door said the store was open until eleven, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do except smile and wait. As a result, it was near midnight by the time I had the books all put away and my register counted and closed. I was tired, and I realized, after three days of not eating, I was ravenous. Surreptitiously glancing around, somehow sure I’d see Megan popping her head in the door or something, I stole a tuna salad sandwich from the refrigerated display on the side of her coffee counter.

  “Shhhh, don’t tell. I’m starving and she’ll never notice it’s gone,” I said as I unwrapped the sandwich. Then I took a big satisfying bite and chewed, making “Mmmm” noises around the huge chunk in my mouth.

  “It’s our secret. As long as you give me a few bites.”

  I swallowed, then smiled and gave PC a small brushing kiss before offering him half the sandwich. I didn’t even bother to give myself the “stop kissing him” lecture. It had completely been pointless up until then; there was no reason I could see that it should start working. Resisting the pull I felt toward him was a total waste of energy.

  Out on the street, store locked up, sandwich eaten, and all other convenient distractions gone, I was all of a sudden unsure of what to say. How do you talk to a lycan who’s your imprinted mate when you really only met him a few hours ago and he’s now on his way to sleep in your god-awful apartment because you physically can’t stand to be away from each other? Despite the chilly breeze, I felt my cheeks bloom red, flustered, and hot.

  “Um….”

  He smiled and took my hand. “So here we are, huh? I just wanted to say again that I’m really, really sorry about all of this. Doesn’t matter how many times I say it. Still doesn’t change anything. It’s so unfair that you have to be involved.”

  “How could I not be involved? Doesn’t imprinting kind of imply that there are two people, or, uh, a person and―” I didn’t know what to say without somehow managing to put my foot in it big time.

  PC nudged me with his hip as we walked. “I’m a person too. Just a different kind.” He gave me a teasing wink before his face melted into concern. “Hey, you’re shivering! Where’s your coat?”

  “Wasn’t exactly the first thing I thought of when I was trying not to die earlier.”

  PC winced. “Here, take mine.” He put down the books he’d been carrying, pulled his dark-gray hooded sweatshirt over his head, and stopped to hand it to me. All he had left was a T-shirt between him and the damp night air.

  “Aren’t you going to freeze?”

  “Nah, my body runs a bit hotter than yours. I’m fine.”

  Moron. How many times had I written that very fact in one of my stories?

  “I should’ve known. Thank you.” I pulled the still-warm sweatshirt over my head, inhaling slowly as I went. It smelled like him. I realized I would already recognize that smell anywhere; warm, sexy, a little sweet, and totally unique.

  As soon as I had the sweatshirt on, he grabbed my hand again. I chuckled softly under my breath.

  “What?”

  “Nothing… it’s just us. Going from strangers to ‘I can’t stand not touching you’ in what, like four hours? It’s a little bit of a mind bender.”

  “I’m sure we can stand it.” His voice sounded like he was starting to get annoyed by the whole thing.

  “Try it then.”

  He let go of my hand and scooted to the other side of the sidewalk. We stayed that way for a good thirty seconds, each walking silently, hands clenched to our sides. I hated it. I could feel him, a few short feet away from me. My skin was doing everything in its power to get closer. He was right there. I needed to touch him. Yeah, we could stand it, but it freaking sucked.

  “Shit,” he whispered angrily. Then he reached over, snagged a hand around my waist, and pulled me close.

  “No kidding,” I agreed. “So you always thought this was impossible?”

  “Yeah. I thought so. Figured it was just a story moms told little girls who were hoping for a lycan prince.”

  “But it is real, except instead of some pretty girl, you end up with me. Heck of a consolation prize.”

  PC squeezed my waist. “Don’t say that. And it might not be real; it could be a spell or something.”

  I coughed. “A spell?”

  He shrugged. “Spell, hex, whatever you want to call it. They can be nasty. I have a friend who can get people to do pretty much anything he wants. He doesn’t usually, but he could.”

  “Lycans can do that?”

  “No. Witches can―and they do. Most of the witches I’ve met have the mentality of a high school mean girl. They mess with people because it’s funny.”

  “And you think this might be that?”

  “It’d be easier to believe that than to believe imprinting is real.”

  “But if it’s a spell, then why me? I don’t know any witches.”

  “You didn’t know a vampire either until Zack confessed.” Good point. “And I have no idea why you or why me. The whole thing doesn’t make sense.”

  “And what if we are really imprinted?” Somewhere inside me, I knew we were… not that I had any experience
with spells, but who could make a spell that felt so amazingly real, like more real than anything in my life had ever felt before?

  “Then my mom will have to deal with it when she comes.”

  His voice sounded final, matter-of-fact. It made my stomach ache. I still had a million questions―well, that wasn’t true. I wished I only had a million questions. They were endless and seemed to be welling up in my brain, dying to get out. I didn’t want to push, though. I’d gotten a majorly skittish vibe from him since the moment we met, so I fell silent as we walked hand in hand through the quiet late-night streets.

  Everything was fine for a few blocks; we walked in companionable silence, doing this half lean toward each other like our skin was magnetic or something. It was actually really nice having him so close. It felt like I had a real live boyfriend for the night. If I ignored the rest of it, we felt normal together. That’s saying I could ignore―

  PC slowed his pace to a near stop, interrupting my musings. I felt irritation rolling off him, sudden and intense.

  “Why’s that guy staring at you?”

  “Wha―” I looked up.

  Oh damn. You’ve got to be kidding me.

  The jerk, Jeff, from the bookstore, was walking toward us, listing noticeably to one side. He was indeed staring intensely at PC and me, like he was trying to place us… or rather me. Why, why, why? New York was so big there were people I’d never see, and yet I run into him again?

  Please let him be too drunk to remember me. Please.

  No luck.

  “Oh, I know you. It’s the picky, picky princess,” he sneered, recognition dawning on his face. “Is this the fictional boyfriend you were lying to me about?”

  “Yeah, I’m his boyfriend. Who’s the jerk, baby?” I had to give PC credit for acting quickly.

  “It’s nothing,” I mumbled. I’d read intense anger coming off the guy last time, and I didn’t know PC very well yet, but my guess was the situation could get ugly really fast.

  “You really gonna pick squirt here over me? I doubt his dick could do anywhere near the damage mine could in that sweet little twink ass of yours.”

  He grabbed his crotch suggestively and stepped forward to crowd up against me. I smelled his breath, heavy with rum and coke, felt the repulsive heat of his erection press into my stomach. I backed away, but he followed, jamming his body into my personal space again. What’s with me and drunk jerks?

  I was too busy trying to get him off me to notice that PC had lost his cool completely.

  “Don’t fucking touch him!” PC shouted, shoving his lean, compact body right up against the huge pile of muscle in front of him.

  “What you going to do, junior? Kick me in the shins?” Jeff the jerk laughed, and I cringed. The irritation had turned to anger, pouring from PC in thick currents. It didn’t seem to faze Jeff. He slung his arms over my shoulders and bent like he was going to kiss me.

  All of a sudden a muscular growl ripped into the night air. I didn’t see anything other than a blur, but I felt him move past me, so fast my hair blew against my cheek. The next thing I knew, the guy was on the ground, PC on top of him. But it wasn’t the adorable mop-top human PC I’d been getting to know all afternoon.

  It was the wolf, big and beautiful and snarling lividly.

  He growled again and got his muzzle right up close, breathing hot air all over Jeff’s now terrified face.

  Mine, his roar said. I could understand him perfectly.

  “I’m sorry,” Jeff whimpered, throwing his hands up and slamming them against the damp cement. The man looked like he was about to wet himself. I couldn’t blame him.

  “PC, it’s okay. Let him go.”

  I reached out and put my hand against PC’s neck, digging deep into the fur to let him know he could back off. He must have felt something because he backed up slowly, one reluctant step at a time, until he left Jeff trembling and alone on the street.

  Jeff, eyes wild, vaulted off the slick pavement faster than I’d imagined anyone of his size could ever move, and with one last look of disbelieving terror, he turned and bolted. I watched him run for a few moments, trying to absorb what had just gone down. Then I turned to find one extra large wolf sitting and looking at me, his expression markedly sheepish.

  “You’re a little scary when you do that, you know?”

  He cocked his head and whined.

  “Yeah, I know you’re not going to hurt me.” I reached out to pat him on the head, but as I was about to touch him I felt an odd pulse of heat, and instead of a wolf there was a very naked PC sitting on the ground, hunched over to shield his nudity. I was glad for him that we were alone.

  “I shredded my damn clothes,” he grumbled. “Gotta find my wallet and my phone. Hope they’re okay.”

  “Here.” I yanked his sweatshirt off and handed it to him. He wrapped it in a makeshift loincloth around himself. I found his phone easily; the scratched silver case glinted in the moonlight. Surprisingly, the thing still worked. We sifted through the rest of the tattered denim and cotton debris, me holding back laughter at the way he had to waddle around with his sweatshirt skirt, until he held up his hand victoriously.

  “Found my wallet!” His face clouded. “I’ve really gotta work on controlling myself. That asshole just made me so angry. When he got up in your face like he was going to touch you―”

  “PC, uh, we should probably talk about this at my place. It’s only another block. You need to get inside.”

  He nodded, and I gathered up his spilled bag of books to carry since he was going to need all his hands and concentration to keep that sweatshirt from falling to the ground. I smothered another grin.

  “I know you want to laugh,” he said wryly. “Go ahead.”

  A half snort, half giggle escaped. “Let’s go before you freeze.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Wolf. Warm. Remember?”

  “Yeah, I know. I forgot again. Let’s go.”

  After a long climb up the dark, cramped stairwell of my building, I let both of us into my tiny, unlit dorm. I was really nervous. I’d never had anyone up before (I wasn’t counting my Zack ambush earlier). Just the thought of having anyone in there was nerve-racking, let alone being in my place on my own with the guy I’d somehow imprinted on. Even thinking the word made me tremble a little. The situation was just so impossible. Definitely not what I imagined my first actual, um, sleepover to be like.

  Seeing my dorm through the eyes of someone new made it even more embarrassingly ugly. It was basically one tiny L-shaped room, with a half wall around my bed area in one corner of the long part and a bathroom door in the other. The small part of the L had what passed for a tiny living room, with a hard little university-issued couch. The only place I ever sat was the alcove where my bed and TV stand were. The rest of the place was stark, dingy, and practically unlived in. There were a few pictures and posters—I’d done my best with the budget that I had—but the couch was awful and the floor was bare of rugs. The walls probably needed new paint in 1950, but were so far past that point that only total demolition would fix them.

  I took the small bag of books PC had bought and set them on the floor in front of my never-sat-on couch, then walked quietly to my dresser and got out a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and pointed him to the small bathroom in the corner while I turned on the rarely used thermostat.

  When he came out, we smiled shyly at each other. I didn’t know where to go from there, and I doubted he did either. It was awkward in the silence of my slowly warming room—no people, no street noise, just me and him and the weird situation that was holding us together. I felt like I had to say something just to get rid of the quiet.

  “Sorry, my room really does suck. I’m hardly ever here.”

  He smiled at me and pulled me close for a quick, desperate kiss. It had only been about ten minutes since our last one, but it felt like forever. I was already such a junkie.

  “Didn’t even notice. To tell you the truth, since that night
in the alley, I don’t notice much of anything other than you.”

  PC sat on my couch and held out his hand for me to join him. I did, and immediately he leaned over to kiss me. My body shuddered, then relaxed, already becoming reacclimated to his touch. I couldn’t get over how familiar it seemed, even though we’d spent less than a day in each other’s company. The second we touched, the silence was no longer awkward. It was full of want, of need, of the way it felt when our mouths were connected. I didn’t have much of anything to compare it to, but I doubted normal people felt that click inside them when they kissed, that gear shifting into perfect mode where everything felt ten times better than usual. He ran his fingers through my hair and cupped my cheek gently. I scooted closer and pulled his leg up to drape over my lap.

  We need to deal with all this imprinting crap. Now.

  I tried to tell myself that, but it was so hard to tear my lips away from his. I wanted to keep kissing him forever. Especially when he lay down on the couch and pulled me roughly until I was sprawled on top of him. PC slipped his hands under my shirt to massage the tired muscles in my lower back, and ohhh. I groaned and deepened the kiss before I finally came to my senses and pulled away, scrambling to sit up. He looked hurt for a short moment, but his hurt turned into a sheepish grin and he helped me roll off him and sit up.

  “Sorry I attacked. I can’t seem to help it. I guess it’s the bond talking, or maybe the adrenaline from shifting, but I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  I reached out and touched his face, then put my hand in his. “Hey, I wasn’t exactly protesting. My body wants to be touching yours constantly too.” I smiled and tried to look nonthreatening. I knew he was still skittish. “My mind, on the other hand, knows we still need to deal with a few things.”