Dannika Dark - Seven Years

If Naya wants him, she can have him.

I swung the door open and they were standing in the middle of my living room. Austin held a heavy bag under each arm as if they weighed nothing. Naya had on her favorite black heels with ribbons tied around her ankles several times. All you saw were legs that went up to a pair of tight black shorts. Her red blouse was a favorite—the shredded material looked like a yeti had tried to make out with her.

“Naya, this is Austin Cole. He’s an old friend who just got back in town and we’re doing some catching up. Austin, this is Naya, my good friend and neighbor. She also makes some really kickass baklava.”

“Yes,” Naya confessed, “I love to cook. Do you love to eat?” she asked, sliding a glance my way. “I think we should have him for dinner tonight. You two can talk and that’ll give me plenty of time to whip up something delicious. I know just the thing a man like you needs.”

Naya had her kitten motor on purr. Men responded to it without a doubt. She was testing the waters to see if I’d react, which I didn’t, thus giving her full permission to pursue. We had an unspoken agreement about that kind of thing.

Austin’s eyes were fixated on my shirt. “Are they still around?”

For a second, I thought he was talking about my breasts and I looked down to see if I still had them. Then I noticed the logo on my shirt.

“Yeah, believe it or not, they’re still in business.”

A nostalgic grin slid up his face.

The Pit was the best barbecue joint in town. At one time, it was a popular hangout for the teens. I’d go with my friends, or sometimes tag along with Wes. Their food was great, and it had become a place where we congregated to talk about school, guys, concerts, and stuff that didn’t matter. So many memories were tied to that place and I hadn’t gone back in all these years. We used to tear the ends of the straws and blow the long wrappers across the room. The owner must have hated us.

“Let me take those,” I said, reaching for one of the bundles of laundry.

He swung away. “I got it. Where do you want them?”

I wrapped my arm around a large bag and he swiveled away. “You act like I don’t know how to handle something that big, Austin. Just give it to me !”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Naya said with a wink, and the door closed behind her.

“Your bedroom or right here?”

His question startled me and I let go. Austin paced into my messy bedroom with the laundry. “I’m not folding your clothes,” he said with a chuckle. He dropped the bags on the floor beside the closet and glanced around with inquisitive eyes.

He was curious about my life. I saw it in the subtle way he scoped everything out, from the pictures on my walls to the comedy movies on my shelves.

“Why don’t I get us a drink,” I offered, disappearing into the kitchen. I could see him over the bar and he was looking at the back door that led to my balcony. “You want a beer? I don’t have your favorite, or at least, what you used to like.”

“Sounds good.”

This conversion was going to require more than a beer. It was too early in the day to get lit, so I pulled out two bottles and set them on the rectangular table in my quaint little dining room.

Austin had his back to me, still shirtless.

I quickly dove into the bedroom and fished out one of Beckett’s shirts from a bottom drawer. There was no way I was going to be able to carry on a conversation while staring at his six-pack.

“Here,” I said, tossing him the shirt.

He caught it and sharpened his eyes. “Whose shirt is this?”

“My ex’s.”

His fists tightened around the red material but his voice stayed smooth and relaxed. “How much of an ex is he?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He lifted the shirt. “You’re still keeping around a spare set of his clothes. You tell me.”

I sat down and took a swig of beer. “He had sex in my car with another woman. I’m not a forgive-and-forget kind of girl. I just forgot I still had it in there.”

“You just said you didn’t forget.”

I turned my mouth to the side and drummed my fingers on the bottle. “I can forget a T-shirt pretty easily. I can’t forget my ex getting ridden like a mechanical bull in the back of my Toyota.”

Austin suddenly ripped the shirt in half and the sound of the material tearing made me jump.

He calmly walked into the kitchen, dropped the shirt into the trash can, and returned to his seat across the table. Then he casually drank his beer as if nothing weird had just transpired with him going Hulk and shredding my former lover’s favorite “I’m an idiot” shirt.

The bubbles in my empty stomach were already working their alcoholic magic. “So tell me what happened to Wes. Don’t dance around the truth, Austin. I’ve invited you here and I want you to be straight with me.”

Austin sipped his beer and grimaced, setting the bottle in the middle of the table.

“I’m a Shifter,” he said.

“Shifter,” I repeated blandly. “You move around? What does that mean?”

“ Shapeshifter .”

My shoulders sagged. “I don’t have time for jokes.”

He didn’t break eye contact and those pale blue eyes polished me off like a dog licking his bowl clean. “There’s another world that exists that would surprise the hell out of you. Wes knew what I was.”

I sighed angrily. “Don’t drag Wes into your pathological—”

“Lexi,” he said in a hard voice, “I’m a Shifter.”

My eyes narrowed. “Then turn yourself into a zebra.”

He slowly shook his head and rubbed his jaw. “My animal hasn’t met you; I don’t trust him alone in your presence just yet.”

I threw my head back and slapped the palms of my hands on the table. “Oh my God. You’re kidding me! All these years I’ve wondered what happened to you and if you were even alive. I’m such a fucking idiot . Now you show up out of nowhere and the only thing you have to tell me is you’re a werewolf ?”

“Shifter,” he corrected with a suppressed grin.

Austin didn’t back down. He was convinced he was some kind of a paranormal but assured me he wasn’t a werewolf because they didn’t exist and the moon had no effect on him. His revelation also came with a warning label: those who knew about their secret were entrusted not to reveal it to the human world. There were consequences, and I really didn’t want to ask what those were. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell a soul. I didn’t have a problem with that.

I was never a fan of padded walls.

There were breaks in our conversation when I’d walk off to do the dishes, leaving him alone so I could allow the facts to settle in my brain. It was a lot to digest in one day, particularly after spending an hour in a tree. He went out on the balcony a few times to make phone calls, and I finally collapsed on the sofa and flipped through the TV channels. A tapestry of light blanketed the room, fading to nothingness as darkness dominated the sky.

Then my idiot neighbors cranked on their stereo. Austin flew in through the back door and sat in the chair beside me, rubbing his hand across his bare chest. “You should move into a house and get away from this lifestyle—too many drifters coming in and out of this place. It’s not safe.”

There he went again, talking about safe . Although I couldn’t deny it was nice to hear someone showing concern about my safety. As much as I wanted to roll my eyes, feeling protected by a man was an undeniable soft spot with me.

A knock—or more precisely, a shoe—tapped on the door. “Lexi, darling, open up. Dinner is served!”