Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)
“You’ll make a good businesswoman,” Ev says, distracted by the pendant. “Oh boy, I’m loving this one.”
“Then keep it,” I say.
“I’ll pay for it.”
“No way.
Ev sighs. “And here I thought you could think business.”
“We’re friends.”
Like I am with Jesse. We banter, we hug, we do things for each other. That’s what friends do, right? It doesn’t matter that I want him, that I want to kiss him, and lick him, and—
“Have you thought about your studies? You said you wanted to change direction, give up architecture.”
“Yeah.” I put the box beside me, stare blindly at the metal and glass. “I was thinking to take art as my major. I like creating things people wear, you know? Art that touches them, that touches their skin as much as their heart. Art that pierces them, and hugs them, and tethers them somehow.”
Silence spreads.
I blink. Uh-oh. Was it a mistake to say what I feel? People often find me weird.
But Kayla whistles and pats my foot. “That was deep, girl. Me like. You could use it as your logo. Art that pierces you to the heart, or something.”
I shake my head. Not so sure about that.
“I say go for it. Study art, focus on what you really like. What you got there,” Ev waves at my creations, “says the same. This is your path.”
That’s my feeling, too. I remember lying in my bed back in Chicago, wondering what craziness was driving me to return here, why I suddenly decided I needed to escape. Up until then I thought my parents could save me, fix my past and my fears, give me the best advice about my future. Architecture was their idea, as it combined art and more practical aspects of life.
I don’t want practical. I want my dreams back. I don’t want to bury my fears. I want to fight them and beat them.
Enough of running.
“I’ll talk to Tyler,” I say and run my fingertips over the smooth beads—over Jesse’s smooth, warm skin, over taut muscle and sinew—
“Something else on your mind?” Kayla taps her forehead. “I can hear cogs turning.”
“She needs lubrication,” Ev quips, the traitor, then rolls on the carpet, laughing. “Oh my God, lubrication …”
“Now, now. Very funny.” Kayla pats Ev’s head, her eyes on me. “Shh. Let’s hear what’s troubling Amber here.”
I gather up my knees and rest my forehead on them. “I’m just worried about Asher’s wedding.”
“W
hy?” Kayla frowns at me.
“I’m not good around people.”
“Nonsense,” Ev says. “You’re great. It will be lots of fun. You’ll see.”
Yeah, right. I love Ev, but sometimes I don’t think she really knows me. She can’t understand how I freak out like that in crowds. Thinks I can get over it.
As if I haven’t tried.
I think again of Jesse offering to take me, make sure I have fun. Will he do it now? I doubt it. I tried calling him—got his number from Micah, who promised not to tell him anything—but he doesn’t answer. I’m more worried about him than I am about the wedding, which is stupid.
He probably doesn’t want to talk to me or see me again, after my interrogation of him.