July was fast approaching now, and I was beginning to realize how much I loathed it. June was just so beautiful. June was the end of school, but the prospect of Summer still lingered in front of us. June meant we had that extra time. June was the possibility of nearly two entire months left with Paul.
July and I were not going to be friends. Don't even get me started on what a bitch August was going to be.
I sighed and threw my notebook on top of my suitcase. Three weeks here and I hadn't regretted a single day. Except maybe the first when I thought Paul was a gorgeous, angry, stalker. And of course the second time I had hung out with the boys, which was two days ago.
Let me warn the general population: if a boy dares you to eat something, don't do it. They have significantly higher 'gross' radar than most normal people do, and your gag reflex will follow. I learned that the hard way and still need sweet revenge on Jacob and Quil.
I squirmed a little just at the memory, shaking my head and walking downstairs.
At my great insistence, Angela finally went out. We both felt bad because we planned to be with each other, but we hadn't been spending a lot of time together. I debated a mixing of our two groups—her friends, and Paul's, but she quickly informed me that they didn't generally hang out together. I wanted to know why, but Ben had arrived before I had a chance to ask, so now I was here.
The twins were at their friend's house and my aunt and uncle were at the store, so I was left to my own devices. Every once in a while, when he wasn't hanging around at every possible second, Paul got weird about his plans with the guys. It was usually late at night, so I didn't want to know what they were doing. It affected me because that meant he'd usually sleep extraordinarily late the next morning, or rather, afternoon.
My uncle told me I could take his car if I wanted it. There were two in the garage, so there was usually one left when someone went out. But I didn't know any places around here besides Paul's house, the beach, and the diner, and I couldn't really go to any of them right now.
So, I flipped on the television. I wasn't going to be a stupid mess without her boyfriend kind of girl, I was going to stand strong.
Yeah, look at you, watching TV all by yourself. Way to take a stand my logic echoed. But I ignored it and turned up the volume.
Paul was still tired when he woke up, but realized it was almost twelve and he promised Kris he would be over for lunch. He nearly rolled out of bed, stretching his sore muscles and slipping on a T-shirt. He didn't bother looking in the mirror, because he was in a rush and didn't really care about the state of his hair.
Right after he brushed his teeth, he nearly rammed into his mother in the hallway, but quickly caught her and moved her aside before she fell. She held her heart, and he grinned cheekily at her.
"Sorry Ma."
"Where are you going in such a rush, Paul?" she asked, giving him a smile that let him know she knew exactly where he was going.
"I'm having lunch with Kris," he said in an even tone, not letting her embarrass him like she wanted to.
"And when am I going to meet this girl?" she asked, her strange smile growing bigger.
"Never if you keep smiling like that," he whined.
She had to stand on her toes to kiss him ever since he phased, and he watched as she did it now, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"You're lucky. I was this smitten with your father and I didn't meet him until I was twenty-five."
He growled a little at the mention of his father, but didn't shake like he normally used to. It seemed like since he met Kris, he could calm down a lot easier. He could picture her on their first date, pointing out his temper and dark eyes with a goofy smile, which immediately made him relax.
His mother had noticed the growl however and she lightly slapped his arm.
"None of that," she said, putting on a brave grin. "You go meet your girl, and tell her your mother wants to have dinner one night."
"Will do, Ma," he agreed, glad she had moved on from trying to embarrass him...
"And you better tell her, or I'll break out the awkward puberty pictures!"
...And she was back.
I had gotten so into my show that I didn't notice when Paul walked in, stooped down to kiss me, and then stopped upon seeing my face.
He froze, got an angry look on his face that morphed to concern, and sort of growled a question at me.
"Why are you crying? Who made you cry?"
I hastily wiped my face, turning away from his assessing eyes.
"I will kill them, Kris. Who was it?" he demanded, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him.
I rolled my eyes at his macho attitude. I wasn't used to someone being constantly ready to defend me. I felt like I had some sort of old-fashioned prince instead of an overgrown teenager.
"No one," I mumbled, blinking a few times.
"Don't lie," he said, crouching in front of me.
"It's nothing," I said shaking my head.
"Just tell me," he prodded.
She mumbled something intelligible, so Paul got a little closer to her.
"What?" he asked.
She muttered something again, but all he could make out was 'home' or something, so it didn't make sense.
"What?" he asked again.
"Extreme Home Makeover, okay?!" she yelled, pushing Paul aside.
He looked at her frustrated face for a moment before breaking into laughter. He couldn't help how it echoed throughout the empty house, even though she was glaring daggers at him.
"You really are a softy underneath that exterior, huh?" he choked, laughter dying down.
"It's a good show," she defended, crossing her arms. "Those families really deserve those new houses. When they move that bus, I dare you to not be moved."
He smiled at her widely, taking a seat next to her. He breathed in the familiar scent and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so he could kiss the top of her head. He couldn't believe he had ever dreaded imprinting. He thought it was like being whipped. Having to care for someone, being consumed with them. He never really took into consideration the soul mate part of it, and how much he would want to be around his imprint.
He actually got stomach aches when he thought about his previous notions. How could be so stupid about it all?
Kris shifted in his arms, finally warming up to him. He smiled again, pulling her into his lap.
"You can change the channel now, since you're just going to make fun of me," she said, handing him the remote.
He took it quickly and kissed her neck, nuzzling his face into it.
"I was kidding," he muttered, placing another kiss on her cool skin.
He loved that she shuddered a little, turned in her lap, and placed both hands on the side of his face. He never felt like this with a girl. He was always the calm, collected one. He wanted girls to fall for him, but he stayed at a distance, never getting too attached.
Kris could make him do almost anything, if she wanted. He was pretty sure she wasn't aware she had this power, but she would learn it soon. It was probably written all over his face when she leaned in to kiss him.
He smiled slightly before throwing the remote aside and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned ever farther into him, prying his mouth open forcefully. He felt his stomach turn, every nerve in his body opening in excitement. She shifted in his lap, and he felt dangerously like he was soon going to be on a thin line between going overboard.
He continued to enjoy the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the feel of her lips for the next few minutes, before making a hard decision.
Using every piece of will power he had, he slowly pulled back. Kris barely opened her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, he noticed, and that made her look even prettier. He had to look away, catching his breath.
"So..." Kris said, recovering slightly. "TV?"
He nodded wordlessly, letting himself relax. He kept her in his lap, holding her from behind. She moved until comfortable and he grabbed the remote again, flipping through the channels.
He stopped on a war documentary, still replaying the previous moment over and over in his head. He felt himself getting worked up again when Kris's voice broke into his thoughts.
"Where were you last night?" she asked, more curious than prying.
"Out with the guys," he said flatly, like he'd said many times. It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth.
"Doing what?" she asked.
"Guy stuff?" Paul said gruffly.
"Alright, keep it to yourself," Kris said, scoffing.
"Nothing interesting," he excused.
She was silent for a moment. He was afraid she was mad, so searched for something to change the subject with.
"My mom wants to meet you. She said you can come over for dinner one day."
"Really?"
"Yeah, of course," he smiled. He felt better every day that she became a bigger part of his life.
"Is she a better cook than you?"
He frowned, remembering his very burnt chicken on their second date. He flicked her ear in annoyance.
"Yeah," he mumbled.
"Great. I'll have to compile my list of questions so I have some ammo against you in the future," she said.
He could hear her smile.
"Oh great, just what I need," he groaned.
She fidgeted happily in his lap and he rested his head against her shoulder. They both started to pay more attention to the tanks that were now rolling across the screen.
"You like war stuff?" she asked.
"Yeah, I always thought it was interesting," he replied.
"You know, I could see you as a soldier," she commented, grabbing one of his hands.
"I sort of am," he answered without thinking.
She paused for a second, before turning her head slightly. He felt panic start to rise as she looked at him through the corner of her eye.
"Why?" she asked.
He scrambled for a moment, willing himself not to shake in anger. Why the hell did he say that? It would probably not go over well to blurt out 'Cause I'm a werewolf and I protect everyone from enemies?' right? Somehow this just didn't seem like the right time.
"Because I'm in shape, hang out with a bunch of guys, and take orders from you," he excused, trying to sound as airy as possible.
It wasn't easy to sound airy when it killed him to lie, and triggered the temper that he was notorious for. So, he really just hoped he sounded sort of normal.
Kris chuckled a little delayed, and slowly turned back to the TV. He let out a small breath, hoping she didn't feel the loosening of his chest.
One thing was for sure.
He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.