I went back to Sam after leaving Embry sitting in the sand and asked him to keep someone between Emb and I on patrol rotation at least for a while, so we wouldn't have to be phased at the same time. He was pretty put out about the situation, but considering the head full he'd caught off of me that morning he was willing to make the adjustment to the schedule at least in the short term.
Sam wanted to know if Billy had been any help at all, but I was fucking sick of talking about it at that point and just wanted to run off some steam. I told him that I'd take the afternoon patrol and that I'd come back and talk to him after that.
I focused on the familiar burning sensation travelling up my vertebrae as my bones and muscles realigned themselves; the calming effect the wolf had on me was almost instantaneous. I let the confusion and drama of the last 24 hours slip away and ran as fast as my paws would carry me. I zeroed my attention on my surroundings and completely ignored the twisted web inside my mind. I needed to forget the whole mess, even if just for a short time.
Patrols were typically three hours, and staggered throughout the day, adjusted as needed based on the weather and what was found in the territory over the last few runs. Three hours alone, in the woods, with nothing to do, but keep my nose on alert for bloodsuckers that shouldn't be there—really, none of them would be allowed to be there if it were up to me—that sounded just about exactly what I needed.
Of course, I wasn't able to keep my mind completely off it for the whole patrol though, but somehow thinking about it as the wolf gave a new perspective. Blame animal instincts I guess, it seemed a little more cut and dry: I wanted Embry, Embry wanted me; the wolf didn't really seem to see the issue the same way I did. It relaxed me a bit even though I knew that I still had a long road ahead of me before I would be able to face this thing and actually make a decision.
We avoided each other for almost a week. I fell into a pattern that used to be familiar. Jared's uncle ran a landscaping company that I had worked for last summer and Jared got me hired back on part time when his Uncle Rick landed the summer maintenance contract with the Town of Forks. It was a good fit; I'd bet a month's pay that Rick knew about the wolves, and if he didn't he was a seriously laid back guy. As long as we got the work done, he didn't seem to care that one of us would take off randomly for a few hours at a time.
I did my patrol shifts when I had to, I went to work, I slept. If I knew Embry wasn't going to be out there too, I'd run to kill time when I wasn't busy. I also spent just about every waking second thinking about the fucking mess I was in; without actually getting anywhere close to making a decision.
The first couple of days were fine. I didn't really notice that things were that much different except I wasn't hanging out with Embry at all, which had become an almost daily thing. I started working on Tuesday, two days after I'd asked Emb for some space.
On the third day I started to notice the change. I was so bitchy all day at work that Jared ribbed me about being on my rag. By that evening I felt like I was coming down with the flu; my joints ached and I was totally fucking exhausted. Wolves don't get the flu though.
Mid-day on day four I felt like I was losing my mind. I was fucking miserable; my head felt like it was going to split in two, my chest felt empty. To top it all off I was so fucking horny it hurt. I thought about Emb—a lot. I wondered, if things were this bad for me, how was he managing? He was the one who'd imprinted after all. I was just a fucking horn-dog.
It had been five days since I'd told Emb that I needed some time and space to figure this out. Five days since I'd seen him at all. Five long, fucking excruciating, days. I'd had more than I could take; something had to give.
I still didn't have a fucking clue about what I was going to do about the imprint, so I wasn't ready to talk to Embry. I had to relieve some of the tension in my body though, so I headed into Port Angeles. Pam would be at Mill Creek, and I knew that wasn't the road I needed to be heading down. Someone with no strings and no trail would be ideal.
I found myself at Bar R. It was Friday night and the college crowd was out in force. I spent some time sitting at a table in the corner just watching the crowd. Thinking about Embry so much had opened my mind and I actually found myself watching the guys as much as the girls. The girls put on a better show and were way less afraid to let you know they were interested. I found who I was looking for easily enough without having to try too hard—Hell, she may have even found me, I don't actually know-either way, it didn't take a lot of effort on my part, which was good because I wasn't on my game.
That's how I wound up in a stall in the men's room with a girl whose name I didn't even know, on her knees in front of me. She was working way harder than she needed to, looking up at me through her eyelashes and licking her lips trying for that seductive thing that was just over the top as she unbuckled my belt; with how keyed up I was she could have been just about anyone.
I nearly threw her off me the second her lips wrapped around my cock though. It made my stomach turn and my vision swim; it was all wrong—she was wrong. I pulled her to her feet and buttoned my pants, muttering a half-assed apology to her as I opened the stall door and left. I wasn't going to find any relief in that bar or any other.
I considered leaving my car there and running back to La Push for a moment. I didn't want to run the risk of having to explain the shit in my head to anyone else that might be phased, especially if it were Emb, so I drove the 70 miles back in record time.
I parked in the drive way at my house, but didn't even bother to pretend to be going home—the old man was probably already too drunk to notice anyway. I couldn't fight the pull anymore; I walked the two blocks without even realizing I'd done so.
The house was dark, but listening closely I could hear two heartbeats inside; one sleeping and the other beating a chaotic rhythm like my own. I walked along the side of the house to the bedroom window, which was open. I pushed it open further and climbed through.
Emb was lying in the middle of his small bed, curled into himself and shaking. He looked like he was worse off than I was. I hadn't had a plan when I climbed through his window; I just knew that was where I needed to be. He was suffering because I said we needed to stay away from each other. Seeing him like that fucking hurt; I knew he just needed me close.
I sat on the floor and leaned my back against the side of the bed without saying a word. Reaching behind me, I pulled his arm free and over my shoulder to rest his hand on my chest. His shaking stopped and the tension in him slowly faded, as did mine. I shuffled forward enough to rest my head on the mattress as exhaustion swept over me. He shifted his hand, so his fingers brushed over the skin of my neck above my collar and that felt better still. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat and breathing return to normal, lulling me into a calm sleep.
We woke in the morning in the exact same position. My ass was completely numb but I didn't want to move, still needing the calm his touch brought me. I knew he was awake too.
He started to pull his hand away but I put my hand on top of his to stop him. He let out a heavy breath across the back of my neck, making me shiver. He moved his fingers lightly across my skin.
"Avoiding each other doesn't fucking work," I mumbled, still half asleep and completely drugged by his soft touch.
"No," he agreed.
"You went out last night?" he asked after a long pause.
I knew he would be able to smell everything on me, but would also be able to tell that nothing had happened between the girl and me.
"Yeah, that was a bad idea," I laughed.
I sat up, stretched my back and turned to face him on the bed, sitting on my knees and leaning my arms against the edge of the mattress. He pushed himself up on his elbows, laying part way down the bed on his stomach.
"We'll have to figure something else out. I'm not going through that again," I told him bluntly. "I can't," I sighed and laid my forehead in my folded arms on the bed in front of me. "And I don't think you can either."
"No," was all he said in response.
We sat there quietly for a while. I couldn't help indulging in having him so close; I listened to his steady breathing and heartbeat, and greedily drew in his scent which was thick and heavy in the small bedroom. I felt his weight shift on the mattress above my head, but held still. I hoped that he wasn't getting up yet but wasn't able to bring myself to ask him to stay. I jumped slightly when I felt his fingers lightly touch the back of my neck, barely drifting over my skin. I wanted him to touch me—every nerve in my body craved it—but my mind was screaming at me to stop it before it went too far—to get out of there. I held my breath and waited; his breaths shallow and stilted as well.
Slowly, he curled his fingers around my neck, brushing lightly through the edge of my hair. It felt fucking amazing; calming and completely, fucking electrifying at the same time.
His heart pounded in echo to my own. I held still; fighting the urge to sit up and look at him because I was afraid it would either make him pull away or it would escalate things.
He ran his fingers tentatively through the ends of my hair and down between the tendons along the back of my neck and slowly back up. His voice was hardly audible when he whispered, "Is that okay?" My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't answer, so I nodded my head a little.
He shifted again, but continued to lightly trail his fingers along my neck.
It wasn't okay at all, it was way too much; I wanted to push him away and leave. It also wasn't enough; I wanted so much more. I slowly turned my head to the side and looked at him. He was lying with his elbow bent under his head, watching intently where he ran his fingers over my neck. His eyes flicked to meet mine and I was a fucking goner; I wanted to kiss him. I fought the urge, but it was clear he felt it too as his long fingers curled around my neck more forcefully.
I could feel my wolf rising up within me. Just as it had when I'd been running all week, the wolf side of me made it clear that it knew what it wanted. My animal instincts usually just led me to take what I wanted.
I watched as he clenched his eyes tightly closed against the tension that was mounting between us. As soon as he opened them again, I rose up on my knees a little and moved forward, putting my own hand around his neck and kissing him.
That was a bad fucking idea.
Don't get me wrong, it felt fantastic, but I wasn't really ready for his response. This wasn't like kissing someone who didn't want you to and getting slapped for it; this was the opposite in almost every way imaginable. I could feel that he wanted this even more than I did—of course he did, his was driven by some fucked-up supernatural cupid's arrow—and it was going to take a lot more than a little slap to turn this off now that it had started.
He kept his hand on my neck and his mouth never left mine as he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed and hauled me roughly up to sit there with him. Jesus he was fucking pushy. He manoeuvred us so he knelt with one knee between my legs allowing him to loom over me. I leaned back as he pressed into me, not wanting to break the kiss. He grabbed my hand away from the back of his neck and brought it down next to my leg. He held my hand there a minute before dragging his fingers up my ribs in a bruising path, dragging my shirt with them. I reached to touch him, and he grabbed my hand away again.
"Stop it," he growled, pinning my hand to the bed under his knee.
"I can't fucking touch you?" I protested in disbelief. I reached out again and he clamped both hands around my wrists, holding them tight to my sides.
Whatever fucking spell we'd been under lifted and I remembered exactly why I'd been avoiding him in the first place; I wasn't fucking ready for this as much as I wanted it. I struggled against his hold on me, as he glared at me through impossibly dark eyes way too fucking close to my face. I could feel the wolf just below the surface, rearing up and protesting. Embry was my fucking subordinate! Who the fuck did he think he was?
He suddenly let me go, pulled away from me completely and sat on his heels at the end of the bed with his fists balled on his tense thighs. "Go," he ground out, closing his eyes tightly.
All I could do was gape at him as I struggled to catch my breath; his mood swings were making me fucking dizzy.
He opened his eyes finally and it felt as though he were looking through me instead of at me. His entire body trembled. "Paul, you need to leave. We can talk later, but you need to go now. Please," he begged through clenched teeth. I could tell that he was barely holding himself back. I got up from the bed, walked the short distance to the window and left the way I'd come in last night, not feeling a lot better than when I'd arrived but for completely different reasons.
What a fucking mess.