Hope(less) (Judgment of the Six) Read online

  Searching for a parking spot at the shopping center, I probed, “You took a shower today, right?” I expected the harrumph he let out, but I had to be sure. “Do you know what size you wear? Shirt, pants, shoes?” Unhelpful, he continued to stare at me. Given what he’d worn when I first saw him, he probably didn’t know. Speeding into a parking spot, I slammed on the brakes. His good balance kept him from falling out of the seat. “Fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Trying to remember how he looked as a man, I scoured the sales racks, guessing at sizes and trying to stick with safe clothes. I bought him some essentials, a linen pant and shirt set, and the largest brown foam bottomed sandals I could find. I could always cut the foam down to size.

  Shopping in a clothing store on my own usually didn’t turn out well, but running from rack to rack like a crazy woman held most of the men I encountered at bay long enough to run past them. Panting for breath, I paid and ran out of the store.

  Back in the car, with Clay staring at me, I tried to think where I could take him to get dressed. Somewhere he could walk in as a dog and out as a man. I couldn’t think of a single place that allowed dogs in changing areas. I’d just have to try to pull a fast one on Rachel. Putting the car in gear, I drove it as if I’d stolen it and made it to the house in record time.

  Rachel, already dressed, stood at the door waiting for me with a stack of clothes in her arms. Her eyes searching the empty car behind me, she demanded, “Where’s the date? They are going to be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes… I hope,” I said not looking at Clay. Waving for her to go first, she led the way back into the house. I paused to toss the bag of new clothes in the bathroom for Clay.

  “Let’s go in my room and you can help me pick what to wear.” She’d already noticed the fact that liked my privacy and usually left me alone. So she perked up at the opportunity to dress me. Pulling her into my room with me, a sign of my desperation to get rid of Scott permanently, she failed to notice that Clay hadn’t followed us from the kitchen.

  “I need something a little tropical, or hippie-ish,” I said as I closed the door and started to undress.

  Rachel set the clothes on the bed, her expression filled with suspicion. “Who is this guy? Why do you need to dress like a hippie?”

  “He’s a good friend and he didn’t much notice to go home to change. Because I’m cheap, I got him some clean clothes from the summer closeout racks. He’s got longish hair so I think he might look like a hippie in them.”

  I spoke a little louder for his benefit, thinking he might hear me through the door. I wanted him to know why I purchased what I had. Rachel looked up at my sudden increase in volume. Clearly, my weirdness had just increased a level. I motioned to the pile of clothes, distracting her. She began rifling through them searching for something to fit my requirements.

  Continuing my story, I said, “He was just behind me. I told him he could use our bathroom to change.”

  “How good of a friend is he?” she asked.

  “Well,” I smiled knowing Clay could hear, “we’ve slept together.”

  She surprised me by not saying anything. Instead, she held up a few options. I picked a flowing, knee-length cream skirt with a light yellow, scoop-necked top and hurried to get dressed.

  “You do know that the best way to look like you’ve been dating a long time would be too look like you don’t care how you look, right?” she asked.

  I rolled my eyes at her and gave the skirt one last tug to straighten it, studying myself in the mirror with a critical eye. Dressing up was a gamble. It might send the wrong message to Scott even with Clay present. Maybe I should follow Rachel’s advice and dress down. Then Clay would look out of place in his clothes.

  “That looks great on you,” Rachel complemented me, as she scooped up the rejects.

  Worried Clay might need more time, I stalled by fixing my hair. I didn’t own any make up to apply.

  “So what’s the guy’s name?” Rachel watched me closely.

  “Clay,” I admitted reluctantly. Considering I’d asked a huge favor of him, I couldn’t lie about his name.

  “Shut up...,” she laughed in disbelief, standing in the doorway with arms draped with clothes.

  Holding up my hands in the mirror, I swore, “Not lying. He talks as much as the dog too. So don’t bother trying to make conversation.”

  Figuring I pushed our time limit, I turned and let Rachel inspect me. She smiled her approval and dashed to her room to ditch the extra clothes. We crossed paths in the living room as she went to look out the picture window while I went looking for Clay.

  The door to the bathroom remained firmly closed so I tapped on it and whispered, “Do you need help?”

  Unfortunately, Rachel overheard and started sniggering behind me. Apparently, there was nothing to see out the window. I tried shooing her away with a wave but she shook her head leaning against the hallway wall to watch.

  “Please hurry Clay,” I begged him yet again.

  The door opened. I took a step back to avoid the cloud of steam that rolled out. Clay stepped out with it. Stunned, I stared at him. I hadn’t seen him since the beginning of the summer. Well, excluding that brief look at his backside. I’d been too shocked to actually look then.

  He still looked scruffy, sporting a beard that concealed his entire neck along with a full mouth-covering mustache. His damp hair hung in limp wavy strands in front of his eyes, covering the top portion of his face almost down to his nose. Clean and dressed in the clothes I’d forced him into he looked amazing.

  His shoulders filled the short-sleeved shirt, and although snug on his chest, it fell loosely to his waist. Standing there, he put his hands in his pockets and waited for my inspection to finish. Embarrassed, I tore my gaze away, but not before I noted he’d left himself barefoot.

  “Brat,” I muttered. Clearing my throat, I added, “You’ll do.” I turned catching Rachel’s smirk. “Quiet from the peanut gallery.”

  She just laughed and rushed to answer the front door that mercifully rang just then sparing me from having to look at Clay again. In a way, I’d forgotten the man under the fur. I followed Rachel slowly entering the living room feeling curiously lost. Clay padded softly behind me.

  “Come on in,” Rachel invited Peter. Scott followed inches behind Peter. His eyes found mine and he smiled widely. I flashed a politely cool smile in return.

  I could see the moment Scott spotted Clay. His face first fell and then firmed in tense appraisal.

  “Hi, Peter. Nice to see you again, Scott.” His face lit at my statement. I felt bad for him. Bad that I needed to hurt him to end his fixation on me. “We were going to join you guys, but Clay just got off of work a little while ago and suggested he and I take advantage of the empty house tonight.” My heart skipped a beat or two at my bold words and I struggled to control the blush that wanted to paint my face. Thankfully, Clay stood behind me so I didn’t need to witness his reaction to my words.

  Scott’s face was a different story. I watched it turn red. “Isn’t Clay your dog?” he asked suspiciously.

  I smiled apologetically still feeling pity for Scott, “We named the dog after my boyfriend. It’s a bit of a joke. Clay, this is Peter and Scott, Rachel’s friends.” My disassociation of him broke Scott. His shoulders slumped and the familiar look of shame stole over his face. Why did this happen? I hated it. Pity and remorse swamped me.

  Clay lightly set his hand at the small of my back. A casual touch. His palm slowly warmed a large area. Even in man form, he could sense some of my anxiety.

  Noting Clay’s hand on my back, Scott glanced between us and then turned to his friend. “Peter, Rachel, I’m sorry to back out on you too, but I think I’m going to head home. I’ve been fighting a cold all week.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and left.

  Peter, who’d looked apologetically anxious when he entered, watched his friend leave with a concerned frown. Rachel murmured something to him and he nodded, going to the closet to retrieve her jacket. Rachel looked back at me as Peter held out her jacket to assist her, and asked, “Are you sure you want to stay in?”

  Rachel accepted Peter’s help with an ease that usually came after being together for years. I doubted they even realized how in tune they were with each other. That often happened when people found their perfect match. Their lives blended in a seamless perfection they simply called love. It was more than that though. Their deep connection put them perfectly in tune with each other’s needs and wants. It kept them open to suggestion and reason so they would always listen to each other. Yep, I’d need to look for a roommate soon.

  “We’re sure,” I answered with a smile and waved them out the door. “Don’t come home early.”

  When the door closed behind Peter and Rachel, I turned to Clay with a smile breaking our connection. “Home free. Thank you, Clay.”

  The subtle difference between living with Clay-the-dog and standing in a room alone with Clay-the-man tickled the nerves in my stomach. I refused to show it.

  He simply watched me, placing his now empty hand back into the front pocket of his pants. I could feel the air cooling the spot on my back he’d touched.

  “Um,” I mumbled not sure what to do. I hadn’t thought past getting rid of Scott.

  Clay’s calm gaze made the nervous butterflies in my stomach worse. Silly, really, considering he watched me all the time as a dog. I took a breath and tried again. “Did you want to do something since we’re both dressed up?”

  He shrugged.

  “You can talk to me, Clay,” I said with a little hope. I really began to wonder if he could speak. When he didn’t respond, I spoke again. “Okay... Do you want to go out or stay in?”

  He moved to the couch, sitting in the middle, his choice clear. Stay in tonight.

  I hesitated. With him sitting in the middle, I’d need to sit next to him to watch a movie. The one other chair crammed in the room sat at an odd angle to the TV. It gave you a sore neck if you tried to watch a movie from there. I felt so exposed wearing a skirt and sleeveless shirt, I wasn’t sure if I could sit next to him for a full movie.

  While mentally debating my options, he watched my face closely. “I’m going to go change,” I stammered, “I’ll be right back.”

  I turned and made it one step before the back of my shirt snagged on something. Surprised, I looked over my shoulder to find Clay standing right behind me holding a fold of my shirt between his thumb and forefinger. I could see the glint of his brown eyes behind the still damp strands of hair. He tilted his head back toward the couch and gave a slightest tug on my shirt indicating I should follow him there. My stomach dropped and I couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or a bad one.

  When I hesitated, he gave another tug. Caving, I turned back and sat on the couch.

  He padded over to the movies, making a selection I couldn’t see, and crouched to start it. It amazed me that he knew how to do that. Then again, he watched everything Rachel and I did. I wondered if anything escaped his notice.

  Pressing play, he stood and walked toward me with fluid strides. I felt graceless in comparison. He settled next to me and watched the previews. I tried to focus on them too, but couldn’t. Instead, I noticed our bare feet, the scratch on the wall next to the TV, his leg lightly touching mine, the sound of the water slowly dripping from the showerhead in the bathroom, his hands loosely resting on his lap. The long list of unimportant details would not let my mind settle.

  It was midway through the movie when my mind calmed enough to notice we watched an action comedy I’d wanted to see. I’d just mentioned it to Rachel this past week. She must have gotten it after that.

  Slowly, I began to relax and enjoy the movie even laughing aloud at one point. Clay’s echoing chuckle startled me, but in a good way. So he could do more than growl as a dog. His deep laugh sounded pleasant.

  When the movie ended, I moved to put it away. It was still early, just about six. Kneeling to look at the movie selection, I asked, “Do you want to watch another one? I can throw in a pizza for us.” Turning when I heard nothing, which wasn’t unusual, I saw folded clothes on the couch, but no Clay. “Clay?”

  Standing, I went in search of him, but he wasn’t in the house. I hadn’t heard a thing. I did a quick scan, but didn’t see him nearby. He did occasionally leave my side so I wasn’t too worried about it. He never stayed away for very long.

  I looked back at the pile of clothes with a slight smile. Good thing I took forever to pick a movie. Shrugging, I picked up his clothes and went to my room to change into some sweats and tank top.

  Scrounging around in the kitchen, I found what I needed to make a big bowl of buttered popcorn. Since I had nothing else to do, I decided watch the other movie I’d spotted before Clay had disappeared. When I walked into the living room, he once again sat on the couch. This time in his fur. I smiled at his familiar furry presence.

  “There you are. Want some popcorn?” I didn’t bother waiting for an answer but went to the kitchen to get him his own bowl. I split what I’d made between the two and set his bowl on the floor before sitting next to him. Getting comfortable, I curled into the couch tucking my feet under him. Bowl balanced at my side, I reached for the remote.

  I’d barely started the movie with the remote when he sighed gustily and laid his head on my curled legs. The heat of him relaxed me and I settled in comfortably content not to move him. Taking a piece of popcorn, I absently offered it to him watching the opening scene. He ate it so I offered him a few more pieces not fully paying attention when he licked the back of my hand.

  The second movie tended toward action-suspense more than comedy. Halfway through the movie, the bowl of popcorn rested on the floor, one of my hands burrowed in the thick fur at his neck, and the other lightly worried his fuzzy ear. At a particularly suspenseful part, the front door opened, scaring me so badly that a strangled scream tore through the air. My scream. Heart pounding in my throat, both Rachel and Clay stared at me.

  “And that’s why I don’t watch suspense movies,” I said to both of them once I could breathe again. Clay didn’t stop laughing for two minutes. Rachel laughed just as hard and thankfully didn’t notice Clay’s reaction.

  Clay licked my exposed midriff and then, finally, settled down. I gently tugged on his ear. “Cut it out,” I scolded softly.

  “So when did Clay leave? I thought he’d still be here after you said I shouldn’t hurry home.” Rachel kicked off her shoes and flopped sideways on the chair.

  I turned off the movie, giving her my full attention. “Nah, I turned my back and he took off on me.” I patted Clay on the head and he snorted. “It’s okay, though, I have my favorite guy here.” And I realized it was true. I liked no man better than I liked Clay in his fur. Sam used to claim first place, but I still felt disappointed in him for not warning me about the last Introduction and about the possibility of Clay showing up at the back door.

  “He was a little scary looking if you ask me,” Rachel commented reaching over to pet Clay. Turned away from her, he took the opportunity to arch a brow at me. I fought to keep my face straight.

  “When I first met him, I told him he looked like a crazy man. I still think he’s crazy, but he’s also nice and dependable.” Clay heaved a sigh. It seemed werewolves didn’t like to be described as nice either.

  “So does he act like Scott ever?”

  “No way.” It came out so fast I paused to rethink it. Nope, I definitely spoke the truth. “Most guys talk about themselves, trying to impress me, or just act scary obsessive. Clay’s different. I don’t think I affect him like I do other guys.”

  I looked away from both of them, thinking. At times, he showed his possessive streak, like when I went on the double date, but he didn’t act obsessive about it. According to my reliable sources of werewolf lore, Clay did feel a strong pull for me, but dissimilar to what normal men did. The pull should make him territorial and controlling, but he never seemed affected by any of that. Yet, for some reason, he stayed.

  “I think he just likes being with me,” I commented and noticing Clay looking up at me, met his gaze. Even when he wrecked the truck back at the compound, he didn’t creep on me like most guys had. “And I’m grateful that I get to be normal around him. I guess I just need to figure out how.”

  Rachel laughed at me. “You sound like you’re really serious about him. Why didn’t you talk about him before this? And why didn’t you say the dog had the same name? We could have changed it.”

  I decided to ignore the part about being serious. “I wasn’t sure if or when he’d make an appearance. And I like the name Clay. Besides, he doesn’t mind.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about Clay-the-dog or Clay-the-man anymore.

  Rachel switched topics and stated, “We should probably talk about overnight visitors… What rules do we want to set?”

  “Um, no loud noises?”

  “Come on!” Rachel laughed louder. “I meant, weekends only? Maybe guests ‘til midnight on weekdays? Notice needed? You know… that kind of stuff.”

  She still lounged sideways on the chair grinning at me. I really didn’t want to have this conversation with Clay present. He laid quietly, head on my lap, considerately pretending to sleep.

  “I don’t know. I trust you and your judgment, and you can trust my lack of a social life. I really don’t think I’ll see Clay very often so you don’t need to worry.”

  “Oh, he’ll be back. I saw the way he watched you. Are you sure the only rule you can come up with is no loud noises?”

  I thought of adding that she should warn me when we had a visitor, but I looked down at Clay and figured we had it covered. “Yeah, I think we’re fine.”

  “Great!” she exclaimed with a huge grin. Then she cupped her hands and yelled, “Peter!”

  The front door immediately opened and a sheepish looking Peter entered. “You were supposed to text me,” he muttered, appearing uncomfortable.

  I laughed. “Come on in, Peter. Clay and I were just going to bed.” Clay jumped off the couch first and I got up to follow him into my room. “Night guys.”