Wildfire

Chapter 8

8. Hide

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears away with my mind. I had managed to wedge myself into a study desk on the third floor of the Wilson library, far away from everybody else in a spot hidden behind several rows of books. The room smelled like old books and hot coffee, one of my favourite scents in the whole world.

It had a soothing effect on my frayed nerves, and after a few minutes I felt myself starting to relax. The tears never slipped out from beneath my lashes and my face remained perfectly composed, for the most part.

After a little while, I started to feel like a total idiot. He was just a guy – god, how could I let him affect me this much? I barely knew him. Granted, he was the first boy in a long time that I'd let get close to me physically, but that didn't warrant my reaction – and neither did the whole werewolf thing.

An image flashed through my mind – the gunman, shoving past me. The sleek, black gun in his hand as he aimed toward the middle of the alley.

I shuddered. It was all too much for me to process all at once; the shooting, the bullet, Diego's identity... the lecture. It felt like punches were coming at me from all angles, and I had no way to deflect all of them.

"That was one gorgeous looking coyote."

I glanced up, a flicker of frustration rising in my chest as I met the eyes of the small, dark-haired girl peering over the edge privacy board. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Relax." She rolled her eyes. "I just brought you coffee. You look like you could use some."

She swung her arm over the top of the board, offering me the steaming paper cup in her hand.

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully as I took it from her and gulped down a mouthful. As much as I hated that she'd found me so easily, I couldn't deny that I found her presence a relief. The knowing grin on her face distracted me from the faint pulse of fear that continued to echo through my system.

"How do you make it look so easy?" I asked after a few minutes.

She shrugged and flashed me a grin. "If I say, 'a lot of practice', will you think I'm a slut?"

"I'll think you should probably vary where you find your dates." I aimed a teasing smile in her direction.

"I would, if I knew where to start looking. Like your coyote's friends, maybe." She waggled her eyebrows at me suggestively.

"Don't call him that." I rolled my eyes. "And I don't even know if he has any friends. We didn't really do much talking."

Lexie snorted. "I bet you didn't."

"It wasn't like that!" I protested.

The memory of his hands gliding down my body rose in my mind and I felt heat flood my cheeks.

Lexie just smiled knowingly at me, like she knew exactly what was playing on a loop in my head. "Honey, the bite marks on your neck speak for themselves."

I grimaced, tugging self-consciously on the end of my scarf. What on earth had possessed him to mark me like that? Granted, I had enjoyed it at the time, but... it wasn't really first date material. Then again, neither was getting shot. I doubted anything that had happened that night had followed the rule book of dating etiquette.

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Actually..." Lexie smiled hesitantly. "I wanted to ask you for a favour. That's why I showed up to class today."