Bad Wolf(66)

I shrug against her arm. I don't let many people get as close to me as Ev, but I've known her for most of my life. We went to the same elementary school, then high school. Her family lived a street away from mine. I trust her like few people in the world.

"She can be a bit too much sometimes," Ev concedes to my unspoken doubt. "Did she give you the rules of roommateship?"                       
       
           



       

I grin despite my misgivings. "Yep. Be honest about boys, never wash dishes in the morning … "

" … Your stuff is my stuff, and my stuff is my stuff, too … "

" … Wednesday is romantic comedy and ice cream night." I giggle. "Is she serious?"

"Deadly. Plus she changes the rules as she goes, on a whim."

I fall silent, wondering if this cohabitation thing will work out. Doubtful.

"On some days you may want to assassinate her," Ev says, steering me toward the entrance of a café. Crescendo, reads the sign over the door. "But on the whole she's good fun, you'll see."

I nod vaguely as we move between small, crowded tables, the air thick with voices and laughter. Freshly-ground coffee and a whiff of vanilla scent the air, underlain with a layer of sweat and human breath.

My hand strays up to my throat, to my choker. I made this one two months ago, when I took my decision to return to Madison. My fingers stroke the smooth planes of the copper plate. I breathe out.

"Here they are," Ev exclaims, and I recoil. Shit, I thought we'd have a quiet coffee, just the two of us. "Come on."

"Ev, who're "they"?"

"Micah, Ocean and Cassie. Micah texted me they'd be here." She sends me a bright smile. "Don't be grumpy. They're nice guys."

"I bet they are." Sometimes I wonder if there's any place in the world for the antisocial like myself.

I let her drag me to their table, and I nod at them, hoping my smile doesn't look fake. Normally Ocean's pretty face and crazy hair would be the first thing I'd notice, but since Kayla's comment I find my gaze drawn to Cassie.

She's so perfect, blonde and blue-eyed, skin smooth and pale, and a petite body that seems to have all the right curves. If she likes Jesse, then I guess it's a given fact they'll end up together. Beautiful people tend to gravitate toward each other.

Besides, they apparently even think alike. A match made in heaven.

No reason why the thought of him with another girl should sting like broken glass. None at all.

I find myself seated between Ev and Ocean. He leans in and smiles warmly.

"Didn't get a chance to talk to you at the party." His voice is light, his eyes and hair the color of summer sky. "I'm Ocean Storm."

"Ocean Storm? Really?"

He winces and shifts away. "Yeah, really."

"I'm sorry." Shitshitshit. "Hey, I-"

"It's okay. I know it's funny. Go ahead and laugh."

"It's not funny." My voice turns sharp and my insides churn, and I hate that I know exactly what he means and how he feels. I wonder how badly he was bullied because of his name. "I like it."

He says nothing, but I could swear his eyes brighten a bit more. He sips his black coffee, half-hiding behind his mug, while Cassie leans over the table.

"Amber, right?" Her voice is a velvet purr. "We met at the party. I'm Cassie, I used to work with Ev. She says you've been friends forever."

"That's right." I detect no jealousy in her big eyes. I like that.

"But you lived in Chicago for a few years?"

"Yeah."

"Must be nice. I'd love to go to Chicago someday." She turns her coffee cup in its saucer. "Someday, yeah … "

She seems nice, and her smile is dreamy and genuine. It's hard not to like her, although she's so pretty and likes Jesse.

Jeez, Amber. And why should that be a problem? Christ.

I need something to do with my hands, so I brighten when Ev waves to draw a waiter's attention. A cappuccino would be nice, plus I can spin the cup, much like Cassie is doing, stare into it, sip at it, bang it around in its saucer …  so many options, all preferable to interacting with people. With humans.

I think I know how cats must feel most of the time.

"Hey, guys," a bright feminine voice says, "what can I get you?"

Our waitress is here, and her tanned face is familiar somehow.

"Meg, how's it going?" Micah lifts his hand, and Meg gives him a high five. "How's Rafe?"

Oh, right, she's Rafe's girlfriend.

"He's all right. Trying to straighten out the paperwork for the shop. Not a happy camper, I can tell you, but it needs to be done after his uncle's lies." She grins, all white teeth and sparkling dark eyes. These boys sure know how to choose cute girls. I guess my theory that pretty attracts pretty stands.

"His uncle's lies?" I glance at Ev, hoping for an explanation.                       
       
           



       

"Long story," she says. "Tell you later."

"All these boys have long stories to tell," Cassie mutters, quirking a grin at Ocean. His handsome features are locked in a scowl.

"That son of a bitch," he mutters. "His uncle, that asshole, almost stole Damage Control from Rafe. From all of us."

Okay, he does sound like a major ass. "From all of you? I thought the shop belongs to Rafe?"

"It does." Ocean lets out a long breath. "But he and Zane made it a home for all of us. Zane taught us the job. Rafe helps us with the rent. All of us think of Damage as our home."

"Okay, back up. All of you?" I don't know why I'm starting to relax around these guys. Ocean makes me feel at ease. Micah, too, and Ev is right beside me, so maybe that's why. "Who're all of you?"

"The Damage Boyz," Megan says and gives the two guys at our table an affectionate look. "Micah, Jesse, Ocean, Seth and Shane."

Long story? More like a saga. One of those that take up a whole shelf in a bookshop.

"I'll send someone to take your order," Megan says as I'm trying to process the conversation.

Zane and Rafe took them in. Zane taught them the job, and Rafe helps with the rent …  I want to ask more questions, but I'm not even sure how to pose them discreetly. Discretion isn't my strong suit.

And in the end it doesn't matter, because our waiter chooses that precise moment to arrive and take our order. When I look up, I find myself staring into a pair of striking green-blue eyes and a sexy grin that takes my breath away.

Oh, crap. Crap, crap. He's our waiter?

At this rate I expect everyone I met at that damn party to make an appearance. Resisting the urge to check if the rest of them are hiding under the table or behind my back, I sit ramrod-straight, duck my head and school my face into a blank mask.

Draw no attention. I'm not here. You can't see me.

"Embers," Jesse says, his grin widening, his gaze zooming in on my face. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah," I mutter, "fancy that."

The whole gang is here, but I all I see is him. Dammit.

He's dressed in a soft gray shirt that molds over his chest and shoulders, and black pants. His hair is so short it's just a shadow on his head, making his luminous eyes look huge.

Crap. Why can't I look away?

"How's the new job, J?" Micah nods at him. "Is Meg bossing you around?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Jesse chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that makes me shiver.

"Hey, Jesse James." Ocean lifts his coffee cup in a salute. "Bold, bad, and brave."

Why do I keep feeling everyone around me is speaking Chinese? "Jesse James? Not Lee?"

"Wait. You don't know who Jesse James is?" Ocean lifts his brows.

"He was a criminal," Jesse says, "who robbed trains."

"He stole from the rich and gave to the poor," Micah says. "He was kind."

"I know who he was," I interject, but I'm overruled.

"He was killed," Jesse mutters, looking away and shifting on his feet, "shot and buried."

A shadow passes over his face, and it sends a pang through me. The others fall silent, shifting awkwardly in their seats. I have no clue what the dark undercurrent of their jokes could mean.

This is a dangerous game.

"All right," I say into the stretch of silence. "How about some coffee, then, JJ?"

He lifts his head, a shadow behind his eyes. Then his dark brows lift, and his brilliant gaze lights up like a sunny morning. "You gave me a nickname!"

Why does he look so pleased? "No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you damn well did." He winks at me. "I'll be JJ for you, babe."

I sputter. "What? Everyone calls you something."

"But not what you called me." He bends over the table, braced with one hand on the surface, so that he looks straight into my eyes. His grin flashes again, blinding. "And you're not everyone."

I'm caught in his gaze, a moth in a web. My heart races. Goosebumps run over my skin. My nipples pebble, and fire fills my veins.