"Give me a break," Connor muttered and started tossing popcorn at the screen. He wasn't the only one. Boos and hisses echoed around us.
"Who found this one?" Lucas called out.
"Daniel'" someone yelled.
"It's definitely in the running."
There was an unspoken competition to find the worst werewolf movie ever made. We had an unusual sense of what qualified as entertainment. Usually I laughed along with everyone else and made fun of what we all consid ered a parody of our kind. But tonight, watching a transformation—even one that was so far removed from reality as to be comical—hit just a little too close to home.
For as long as I could remember I'd defined myself as what I would become when I turned seventeen and faced my first full moon. All the insecurities that I'd felt because no guy had ever paid any attention to me would have melted away. In wolf form, I would have possessed beauty, confidence, and power. I'd never have to worry that some guy would abandon me the way my father had abandoned my mother and me.
I was suddenly very much aware of Connor's arm on the back of my chair, his knuckles feathering along my cheek. The contact was such a surprise my whole body stiffened.
"Hey, what's wrong?" His voice was low and deep, his mouth so near my ear that I could easily hear him in spite of the catcalls and whistles as the werewolf on the screen completed his transformation—without ever removing his clothes. Neat trick.
I shook my head. "Nothing."
He slid his hand around the back of my neck and began stroking the underside of my chin with his thumb. Heat pooled in my stomach. I was acutely aware of him studying me, while I tried to give the impression my attention was locked on the screen. I'd had so many dreams about moments like this with Connor, but now that one had arrived I didn't quite trust it. A few nights ago, he'd been prepared to commit his life, his heart, his body, his soul to Lindsey forever. Now he was giving attention to me as though she'd never existed, as though he hadn't had a symbol of her name inked onto his skin in an ancient ritual that was supposed to identify them as mates. And he'd felt a need to test me. Maybe I'd just test him back.
His lips touched my ear and my resolve to be tough where he was concerned shattered. I exhaled in a jagged breath. I thought I was going to melt into the seat. "Let's go," he ordered.
Before I could object—not that I would have—he stood, grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and led me out of the media room. In the hallway, he faced me. "Something is wrong. I know you're not still mad about this afternoon or you wouldn't have sat with me. Something else is bothering you. What is it?"
His voice emanated power and command. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted him to reassure me that somewhere I would find an answer, that I would become the beautiful wolf I'd always longed to be. But I remembered the odd looks I'd received when I'd hopped onto the treadmill. Those looks were nothing compared with the ones I'd get if the truth about me came out.
"It's this Bio-Chrome mess." Partly true. "I just wasn't in the mood to watch a movie making fun of what we are. Mason and his dad view us as little more than lab rats to be dissected and studied, and portrayals like that"—I jerked my head toward the theater— "don't help our cause. We're stereotyped."
"No, we're not, Brittany. No one knows we exist. Well, except for Bio-Chrome. The movies are fiction, based on someone's imagination or fears. We know they're grossly inaccurate but we can't be accurately portrayed if we're not willing to come out of the woods."
His words surprised me. "Do you think we should?" I asked.
"Some of us have been talking about it, but you heard the elders. They believe there's safety in secrecy."
"Is that what you believe?"
"I'd rather face the storm." He reached into the tub of popcorn and grabbed a handful. "Let's get out of here."
"Like where?"
"Just walk."
He took the tub I still clutched and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Wrapping his hand around mine, he led me outside. Usually I wasn't so docile, but tonight wherever he led was where I wanted to go.
We reached the edge of the yard, where it gave way to the woods. Leaning against a tree, Connor put his hands on my hips and brought me in alignment with him. My heart thundering, our eyes met and held. Very slowly, he skimmed his hand down my arm, and I hated that I'd had to wear sleeves to hide the bruise, that I couldn't feel the rasp of his touch over my skin. He threaded his fingers through mine, and a spark of electricity shot between us. Then he lifted my hand and began to lick any lingering butter and salt off my fingertips. It was probably the most sensual thing I'd ever experienced. But it didn't feel.. .I don't know. Honest.
"I won't be your rebound girl," I said, pushing the words up out of my throat.
He seemed surprised by my harsh tone. "Lindsey told me that you have the hots for me."
I slid my eyes closed and groaned. She had no right. I opened my eyes to find him still studying me.
"Well?" he prodded.
I gritted my teeth, hoping he wasn't about to make a fool of me. But this was Connor. The Connor who'd gone to school with me. The one on the football field who I rooted for. The one who carried campers' equipment into the wilderness and never complained. The one with the sexy smile. The one who—if I was honest—cared enough about our kind to make sure he was choosing the right person to serve as his right hand. "Yeah, so?"
"How much?"
"It's not something I can quantify on a scale of one to ten." Mostly because what I felt for him was off the charts.
"Was it like you just looked at me one day and bam'—you were struck by lightning?"
"No."
"That's the way Lucas said it was with Kayla. That when you meet your destined mate it's like taking a kick to the gut."
"Well, that's romantic," I said sarcastically. "Why does it have to be like that? Why can't we just gradually fall in love? The way humans do."
"Because we're not human." He pulled me closer until my hips rammed against his. "You let me win this afternoon. You relaxed your hold before I indicated that I was giving up. You know better than to do that."