The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of studying. Whenever Rachel left to meet Peter, Clay and I would sprawl on the living room floor. I would read my books while he read his, and I turned his pages. We didn’t talk much. He seemed content just to lie by me.
Because of Clay’s sensitive hearing, we always moved back into my room before Rachel could get from the car to the door.
“I bet I’m looking for a new roommate before the next semester starts,” I said to Clay when I heard Rachel come through the door late Sunday night. He didn’t have much to say one way or the other.
On Wednesday, I realized I hadn’t done my laundry in days. My meager wardrobe lay in a mashed pile in the corner of my closet. With a sigh, I plucked out a semi-clean shirt and the jeans from the day before. After I dressed, I grabbed what I could from the remaining heap and ran downstairs to cram it into the washer. Clay watched me from the top of the stairs. If I didn’t leave now, I’d arrive late for class. I threw in the detergent, ran up the stairs, and nearly plowed Clay over on my way out the door.
When I pulled into the driveway that evening, there was a service truck parked in front of the house, and Rachel’s car already sat in the garage. Baffled, I watched her hurry out the back door. She wore a wide grin.
“You are brilliant!” she said as soon as I opened my car door.
“What’d I do?” I took my bag loaded with library books out of the front seat and closed the door.
“There’s a hot repairman working on the washer in the basement. Thank you for breaking it.” She linked her arm through mine and walked me to the house.
“I didn’t do anything but throw in a load of laundry before I left,” I said quietly as I glanced at the open basement door.
Clay sat in the hallway, staring down the stairs. When he heard me, he turned his head to watch us.
“Hey,” Rachel said. “I’m not blaming...I’m just thanking.” She continued to grin.
“I thought you were into Peter,” I whispered.
“I am. It doesn’t mean I don’t window-shop. Go down there and flirt with him and see if we can get twenty percent off our bill.”
“I will not,” I huffed with a laugh. I moved away from her and got myself a drink of water. “It’d be safer to send Clay down there to learn how to fix it than me trying to get us a price break.”
“If our dog starts fixing things, we’re hitting the road and making some money,” said Rachel.
We both heard the heavy tread on the basement stairs at the same time. Rachel’s face lit with anticipation while I eyed the door with dread. Was it too late to run past and hide in my room? With Clay so close to the door, I’d probably trip on him, and the repairman would find me lying at his feet.
Then, I saw the guy. Denim hugged his long, lean legs, and a snug shirt displayed his biceps and abs to perfection. I knew better than to stare; he would take my attention as a come-get-me signal for sure. But with a body like that, a girl had to look her fill. When my eyes finally met his, he smiled broadly and flexed.
Well, that just ruined the whole window-shopping experience. A conceited hottie. Their vocabularies didn’t include the word no, which made it difficult to fight them off. The situation called for a retreat. I turned to Rachel.
“I have to go pick up my ring before Clay gets here. He’d be heartbroken if he found out I bent a prong on the setting already. Plus, my hand feels naked without it.” While I spoke, I held out my left hand dramatically and gave it a wistful look. Maybe it was over doing it, but I wasn’t sure he’d get the point otherwise.
“The dog?” the man asked with a puzzled look at Rachel.
A nervous laugh escaped before I could stop it. “We named the dog after my fiancé. He has a good sense of humor and likes the dog, too.”
I bolted out the door and got back into my car. Clay hadn’t been fast enough for a change, and I had to leave him behind.
Not knowing what else to do, I went grocery shopping and took my time to read the labels of the different orange juices the store offered. Even after the drawn-out shopping trip, I had to drive past the house three times before the truck finally disappeared.
When I staggered in through the back door laden with groceries, Clay sat waiting for me in the kitchen. I set down the bags and peeked around the corner to look for Rachel. When I didn’t see or hear her, I spoke to Clay in a whisper.
“You better keep reading the books I bring home. You can be our repair guy. It gives me the willies that he knows where I live.”
Clay nodded his head in agreement...which Rachel saw as she walked into the kitchen. She paused mid-stride, her eyes wide.
“Did he just nod?” she demanded.
I acted natural. “Yep. I’ve been working on it with him. He caught on really fast. The nodding isn’t bad, but his smile can be a little scary.”
Rachel stared at us for a moment then shook her head.
“You’re weird, Gabby, but in a good way. Anyway, it was one hundred and twenty-five dollars to fix the washer. I covered your half. With the vet bill, you’re up to one hundred, minus the burger and drink from disaster night.”
Ouch. “Okay. I’ll run to the bank after class tomorrow.” I chewed my lip for a moment. My pathetic savings couldn’t take these kinds of unexpected hits. Life was more expensive than I’d anticipated.
I turned to unpack the rest of my groceries and noticed Clay watching me closely. Not wanting to draw Rachel’s attention to him again, I ignored his look and finished up so I could go study.
* * * *
On Friday afternoon, Rachel rushed in through the back door while calling my name in a panicked tone.
“In here!” I said as I jumped up from the bed.
We nearly collided as she flew through my bedroom door at the same time I tried to leave it. I caught her by the arms.
“What’s going on?”
“Peter broke and told Scott he had plans to go to dinner with me tonight,” she panted.
I stared at her. She ran through the house to tell me she had a date? I really didn’t see how I qualified as the weird one sometimes.
“So...?”
“Peter’s coming here to pick me up, and Scott’s coming with. Gabby, I don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer tonight. Peter can’t shake him.” Her emphatic expression told me the degree of insistence Scott had used to accompany Peter.
I groaned, flopped back on my bed, and forgetting about Clay, landed on him. He didn’t even twitch, but I still reached back to pat him.
“Sorry, Clay.” I froze mid-pat then bolted upright. “I’ve got an idea! Rachel, if you have any clothes that would say I’ve been dating a guy for a while, can I borrow them?” I didn’t want to spend any money unnecessarily.
“Sure, but who are you dating?”
Rachel moved out of the way as I rushed from my room. I heard Clay hop down from the bed to follow me. I grabbed shoes from the closet. My plan could work. I just needed to convince Clay. They both trailed behind me as I struggled to slip on some shoes while I walked to the kitchen. It wasn’t easy. I almost tripped twice and covered most of the distance hopping instead of walking. I grabbed my car keys.
“I’ll let you know when I bring him home. Come on, Clay,” I called, holding the door open for him. With a baffled glint in his eyes, he followed me.
I rushed to the car and waved for him to hurry. I had the doors slammed closed and the engine rumbling seconds later. Clay studied me as I careened out the driveway and took off in the direction of the shopping district.
“You’re here to keep me safe, right?” I took his grunt as a yes. “Then, I need you to be more than my dog.” I risked a glance at him. He tilted his head at me clearly confused. “I need you to put on your skin. Be my date tonight. Please?”
I sounded desperate, but I didn’t really care. The thought of Scott cornering me gave me shivers. His normal personality probably qualified as nice, but I’d seen how the obsession had worked on others. Scott’s fascination with me had obviously advanced. Yet, if Clay were to run interference as my date, it could permanently dissolve.
“You took a shower today, right?” I expected the harrumph he let out. “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. It made my work a little bit more difficult, but I would manage.
I found an open spot and careened into it, slamming on the brakes at the last second. Only Clay’s good balance kept him from falling out of the seat.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said as I rushed out the door.
Inside the store, I tried to remember how he’d looked as a man. Hairy. Dirty. Tall. Well, taller than me. Had he seemed thin or chubby? I couldn’t remember. His jacket had obscured most of his shape, and I’d been distracted by the whole “hey, I’m your Mate” thing.
Usually, when I shopped on my own, it didn’t turn out well. However, my crazed sprints from rack to rack held most of the men I encountered at bay. So, I scoured the clearance racks and guessed at sizes while trying to stick with safe styles.
Panting for breath, I raced to a register. I bought Clay a linen pant and shirt set, the largest brown foam bottomed sandals I could find—I could always cut the foam down to size—and a few other essentials.
Then, I ran out of the store. Clay was standing on the seat. He just stared at me as I opened the car door and tossed the bags at him. They landed at his feet.
I started the engine and 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. I put the car in gear and drove it as if I’d stolen it. I made it to the house in record time.
Rachel was already dressed and standing outside by the back door when we got home. She had a stack of clothes in her arms.
“Where’s the date?” she said as her eyes searched the empty car. “They are going to be here in fifteen minutes.”
I waved her back into the house. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. I hope.”
We followed her in, and I paused to toss the bag of new clothes in the bathroom for Clay. I really hoped he’d help me.
“Let’s go in my room, and you can help me pick what to wear,” I said to Rachel.
“Really?” she said with an excited smile. She’d already noticed I liked my privacy and usually left me alone. But, I expected the opportunity to dress me would distract her from noticing that Clay hadn’t followed us from the kitchen or, later, his absence.
“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 have much notice to go home to change. Because I’m cheap, I got him some clean clothes from the summer closeout racks.” I spoke a little louder for Clay’s benefit. I wanted him to know why I purchased what I had.
Rachel looked up at my sudden surge in volume. Clearly, my weirdness had just increased a level. I motioned to the pile of clothes to distract her. She began to riffle through them, searching for something to fit my requirements.
“He’s got longish hair so I think he might look like a hippie in what I bought.” At least, I thought he might still have longish hair. It’d been months since I last saw him. “He was just behind me. I told him he could use our bathroom to change.”
“How good of a friend is he?” she asked.
I smiled. “Well, 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 appear like you’ve been dating a long time would be to look like you don’t care how you look, right?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes at her, gave the skirt one last tug to straighten it, and studied myself in the mirror. 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. But then Clay would look out of place in his clothes.
“That looks great on you,” Rachel complimented as she scooped up the rejects.
Worried Clay might need more time, I stalled by asking her how I should fix 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. Since I’d asked a huge favor of him, I couldn’t lie about his name.
“Shut up,” she said with a laugh of disbelief.
“Not lying,” I said, holding up my hands in the mirror. “He talks as much as the dog, too. So don’t bother trying to make conversation.”
I figured I’d pushed our time limit and turned to let Rachel inspect me. She smiled her approval then 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, and I went to find Clay.
The door to the bathroom remained firmly closed. I tapped on it.
“Do you need help?” I whispered.
Unfortunately, Rachel overheard and started sniggering behind me. Apparently, there was nothing to see out the window. I tried to shoo her away with a wave, but she shook her head and leaned against the hallway wall to watch.
“Please hurry, Clay,” I begged.
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 notice the rest of him, then.
He still looked scruffy. Between the beard that concealed his cheeks and entire neck, and the full mouth-covering mustache, I still couldn’t see much of him. His damp hair hung in limp, wavy strands in front of his eyes and covered the top portion of his face almost down to his nose. Yet, clean and dressed in the clothes I’d forced onto him, he looked amazing.
His shoulders filled the short-sleeved shirt, and although snug on his chest, it fell loosely to his waist. He put his hands in his pockets as he 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. Then, I cleared my throat and added, “You’ll do.”
I turned and caught Rachel’s smirk. “Quiet from the peanut gallery.”
Mercifully, the doorbell rang then so she just laughed and rushed to answer it. Their arrival spared me from having to look at Clay again. In a way, I’d forgotten the man under the fur.
I followed Rachel slowly, feeling curiously lost. Clay walked softly behind me.
“Come on in,” Rachel said to Peter. Peter stepped in, and Scott followed inches behind. Peter gave me an apologetic look as he moved aside. Scott’s 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 then firmed in tense appraisal.
“Hi, Peter,” I said. “Nice to see you again, Scott.” His face lit at my statement, and I felt badly that I needed to hurt him in order to end his fixation. “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.
“We named the dog after my boyfriend. It’s a bit of a joke. Clay, meet Peter and Scott, Rachel’s friends.” My disassociation of Scott broke him. 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.
Scott noted Clay’s hand on my back, glanced between us, 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. He nodded and went to the closet to retrieve her jacket. Rachel looked back at me as Peter held out her jacket to assist her.
“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 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 new roommate soon.
“We’re sure,” I said with a smile and waved them out the door. “Don’t come home early.”
When the door closed behind Peter and Rachel, I exhaled slowly, and turned to Clay, breaking our connection. I smiled at him.
“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 as he placed his now empty hand back into the front pocket of his pants. The air cooled the spot on my back that he’d warmed.
“Um...” I wasn’t 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 and sat in the middle, his choice clear. Stay in tonight.
I hesitated. The chair, set at an odd angle to the TV, gave you a sore neck if you tried to watch a movie from there. That meant I’d need to sit next to him to watch a movie. But I felt so exposed in a skirt and sleeveless shirt. I wasn’t sure if I could sit next to him for a full movie.
While I debated my options, he watched me 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 and found Clay standing right behind me. He held 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 his hair. He tilted his head back toward the couch and gave a slight tug on my shirt. 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. I surrendered, turned back, and sat on the couch.
He padded over to the movies, made 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.
He pressed play, 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 pressed against mine, the sound of the water as it slowly dripped 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. I even laughed 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 stood and went to put it away. It was still early, just about six.
“Do you want to watch another one?” I asked as I knelt to look at the movie selection. “I can throw in a pizza for us.”
When I heard nothing, which wasn’t unusual, I turned and saw a pile of folded clothes on the couch. But no Clay.
“Clay?”
I went in search of him, but he wasn’t in the house. In the living room, I glanced at the pile of clothes again. He had been so quiet I hadn’t heard a thing.
It took me a moment to think about using my second sight. Because of school and Clay’s presence at home, I’d fallen into patterns where I didn’t use it often. I felt safe enough that I didn’t need to use it. Still, I checked. He wasn’t anywhere in the immediate area, but I wasn’t too worried about it. He did occasionally leave my side, but he never stayed away for very long.
With a smile, I picked up his clothes and headed to my room. Good thing I took forever to pick a movie.
Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to watch the movie I had spotted just before Clay disappeared. I changed into some sweats and a tank top then scrounged around in the kitchen and found what I needed to make a big bowl of buttered popcorn.
Popcorn in hand, I headed for the TV. When I walked into the living room, Clay once again lay on the couch. I smiled at his familiar furry presence.
“There you are. Want some popcorn?”
I didn’t wait for an answer but went to the kitchen to get him his own bowl and split the popcorn between the two. In the living room, I set his bowl on the floor within his reach. Then, I curled into my end of the couch and tucked my feet under him. With my bowl balanced at my side, I reached for the remote.
I’d barely started the movie when he sighed gustily, repositioned himself, and laid his head on my curled legs. The heat of him relaxed me, and I settled in comfortably, content not to move him. I ate a piece of popcorn as I watched the intro. His head shifted on my leg, following the piece of popcorn. I absently took another piece and offered it to him. He gently ate it from my fingers. I offered him a few more pieces, not fully paying attention when he licked the back of my hand.
The second movie was more an action-suspense than comedy. Halfway through the movie, I’d abandoned my bowl of popcorn to the floor. One of my hands burrowed in the thick fur at Clay’s neck, and the other lightly worried his fuzzy ear. He didn’t seem to mind my grip as I stared at the screen. At a particularly suspenseful part, the front door opened. It scared me so badly that a strangled scream tore through the air. My scream. My heart pounded as 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 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 to give 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 take 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 said as she reached 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 ever act like Scott?”
“No way.” It came out so fast I had to pause and rethink it. Nope, I definitely spoke the truth. “Most guys talk about themselves to try to impress me, or they 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’d gone on the double date—but he didn’t act obsessive. According to my reliable sources of werewolf lore, Clay did feel a strong pull for me, but it was dissimilar to what human men felt. His pull, the werewolf version, 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 said. I noticed Clay looking up at me and 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.”
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. “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 till midnight on weekdays? Notice needed? You know, that kind of stuff.”
She grinned at me, still lounged sideways on the chair. I really didn’t want to have this conversation with Clay present. He lay 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 said 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 uncomfortably.
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.”
“Another early Friday night for us,” I whispered to Clay after I closed the door.
I pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets. Clay settled in his usual spot and began to breathe deeply while I lay awake thinking about the conversation with Rachel.
As she’d pointed out, Clay wasn’t like the other guys. At the Compound, when I’d felt the pull Sam had warned me about, I’d panicked. I’d thought Clay would be just like the rest and that I would spend the rest of my life trying to avoid him.
When he’d shown up at the door as a dog, and not as a man, he’d thrown me off guard. Now, I realized he’d been pretty smart about it. Somehow, he’d known I would be more likely to give him a chance as a dog than as a man. Again, I’d underestimated his intelligence.
Rachel was also right about Clay watching me. He followed me everywhere. I assumed his attentiveness was to observe and learn. What if it wasn’t? His quiet presence had already lulled me into indifference over his company. I needed to be more careful.