I’d just assumed he was already a part of the pack. The way he acts with the other two, with Romulus and Lydia, it’s as if he’s been with them forever.
It’s just like the rumors at school, that Kaleb had just appeared one day as if he’d been there all along, and most everyone just went along with it. It’s been so long now that I’d forgotten them.
Until now.
“I want to go,” I blurt out. My eyes drop to the blade of grass in my hands. I’ve started tearing it to shreds, pulling the long stringy fibers apart one by one. “If you think he wouldn’t mind.”
“Mind? I don’t think Kaleb would mind …” Marlowe says, but there’s something in his voice that forces me to loo
k back up at him.
“But?”
“But …” Marlowe stretches out the word as he reaches out to brush the bits of grass and dirt off my lap, “why would you want to go, anyway? It’s just a whole lot of nothing. It wouldn’t mean anything to you.”
His words sting like a slap.
It wouldn’t mean anything to you.
I leap up to my feet. Beneath me, Marlowe gapes up at me in utter confusion.
“What is it? What’d I say?”
Here, now, looking down at him … it’s impossible to stay angry. The momentary seed of anger vanishes, breathed out in one long, shaking, sigh.
“You said I wouldn’t understand,” I say, carefully trying not to betray the quaver in my voice. “But how am I supposed to understand if you won’t let me?”
Marlowe’s hands reach out to me, pulling me back down into the grass beside him. He presses a kiss to the top of my forehead and then pulls back.
“That’s why I like you so much, you know,” he says, quietly. “You’re determined.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Marlowe must have noticed my pout, because he plucks one of the wildflowers next to us and gently threads it into my hair. It is a delicious smelling lavender-colored flower with petals the shape of teardrops.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says as he looks in my eyes.
I have to force a laugh. “Stop avoiding the question.”
“What question?” Marlowe asks, his smile widening into a familiar, mischievous grin. “I can’t think of anything else here, looking at you, except how utterly gorgeous you are.”
“Stop it!” I say, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping my lips—genuine, this time. I know what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean I have the power to resist it.
I sit up straight and force a stoic look on my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Marlowe gets a pained look on his face. “That’s absolutely untrue. Why else do you think we can’t keep away from you?”
His hands reach out to me hungrily, but I bat them away.
“I figured it had something to do with that whole being bonded thing that Lydia talked about. How exactly does that work anyway? I mean, she made it sound like you couldn’t control it at all, but you all seem to be in pretty good control of yourselves all the time.”
“It’s difficult to explain,” he said, his hands still reaching for me. His pained expression grows every time I push them away.
“Is it? Or is it that you just don’t want to tell me?”
This time, there’s no jest in my voice.
Marlowe doesn’t say anything, but he stills at my tone. He’s less impulsive than Kaleb, more restrained like Rory. Somewhere in the middle, I’m hoping he’s the sweet spot. He’s the one who convinced me to give this a shot. He should be the one to give me more answers.