Resisting Velocity (4 page)

***

Coffee.

Charlie needed coffee more than she needed her next breath of air. Stumbling through her tiny kitchenette, her eyes barely slit open, acting as protection from the harsh rays of afternoon sunlight, Charlie wished herself anywhere in the world but here.

Regret, bittersweet and powerful, washed over her as the coffeepot slowly started its hissing and popping morning ritual. She watched the midnight-hued liquid drip steadily into the pot and she let her mind wander.

What on earth had possessed her last night? She wasn’t the type to let herself go wild and crazy. She wasn’t the type to just lose herself in the moment. Though, in all honesty, besides “the kiss”, nothing had happened between them; they had only romped and tumbled with the enthusiasm of pups, allowed outside on their first full moon.

In the early hours of the morning, she had finally given up and let exhaustion claim victory over her, curling up inside the stadium, unsure of Zane’s response. She couldn’t shake the memory of his body curled tight around hers, the rush of contentment she felt as he fell asleep next to her, his steady breathing a soft lullaby. Why Zane of all people brought that out in her, she didn’t know. Luckily, she’d slipped away before dawn so she didn’t have to face him in the unsympathetic early-morning rays of sun.

There were too many questions she didn’t want to answer.

She didn’t notice the slight scent in the air until a raucous knocking nearly made her jump through the window. Biting back a yelp and spinning on her heel, irritation written in every line of her body—who in the hell was out making neighborly calls at this time?—she threw the door open and parted her lips, ready to take a proverbial chunk out of her early morning visitor.

“What the hell—Benji?” Her flare of rage washed away into happiness, her inner wolf wagging from the possibility of one-on-one time with a friend. Charlie relaxed immediately and allowed her weight to settle against the doorframe. She didn’t really know why Benji pulled at her heart strings, but she couldn’t ignore her wolf’s twinge of pleasure at seeing him.

Normally, Charlie wasn’t prone to excessive displays of…well, anything, but yesterday had been a special occasion and it seemed that today was headed in that direction as well.

Benji stared at her and flushed from the top of his collarbone all the way to the tip of his forehead. It was something that she knew the other wolf hated; he had worked hard to grow a shell thick enough to disguise his naturally bashful nature, but sometimes it showed through.

Looking him up and down, Charlie gave a low whistle and took a step back to allow him to enter her trailer. “Make yourself at home. It’s a good thing I have the coffee going, because you look worse than leftovers.”

“Nrrmph.” He climbed the stairs, shuffling like the undead.

A raised eyebrow at his grunt was Charlie’s only given sign of intrigue. She turned to get two mugs from the cupboard and filled them to the brim. If it had been any of the other guys in her personal quarters, she would’ve been annoyed at their assumption that she’d play waitress just because one of them deigned to come calling. But it was Benji and they had spent a great deal of time with each other, both as pack and as friends.

Glancing over, two steaming cups of coffee gripped tightly in her hands, she couldn’t help but give a thorough and motherly once-over to the man, who had flopped down on her couch with an arm thrown over his forehead.

He looked like hell. Torn up black jeans and a tank top covered his lean frame and she noted that he could use a bit of a trim. His normally bright green eyes were only slightly open and dark circles beneath them showed the wear and tear of late-night partying. Benji was going to need a lecture about taking it easy on the women and the booze.

Charlie set one mug of coffee in front of Benji and held the other one to her chest, enjoying the wafting scent of caffeine. She curled up in her peacock throne chair and they sat in silence for a few moments. She waited, watching as he unwound himself from the fetal position on her couch and picked up his own cup and drank, gulp after gulp. Once the last scalding swallow had been taken, Charlie didn’t bother to hide her astonishment as his behavior as she stared at him.

“What?” A blush began to creep up Benji’s neck.

“You’re…either insane or no longer have any idea of hot and cold.”

“Nah, I burnt my mouth the other day. Now it’s numb from that crap.”

“I’m going to call bullshit on that, Benj. You look like a zombie and the fact that you showed up at my place before noon is proof enough that something’s on your mind.”

An irritated toss of his overly shaggy black hair, a bit of squirming in his seat, averted eye contact, and silence was her answer. Charlie just sat and sipped tenderly at her coffee, vowing to not say another word until he’d broken down and told her what she wanted to know.

“Where was Zane last night?” The loaded question was followed by an accusatory stare and Charlie had to fight not to jump and get defensive. She clenched her teeth to hold it in. He had a right to know, as a friend, where his other friend had been last night and obviously he wasn’t going to question Zane—his alpha to-be—about his whereabouts.

“With me… We had a discussion about tendering my resignation. And then we…ran together.”

The silence that followed let Charlie know she was in trouble. In the past, she had always run alone, choosing to rebel against the traditions of the loosely-knit pack. Sure, she’d had gone running with Benji a few times before over the past few years, but only when the mood struck her, when the loneliness for wolven company became too much to bear. Fleeting memories of worrying about his reaction had been banished last night amidst the gaiety of their run and now they’d come back with collateral.

After a moment, Charlie couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Are you upset about something?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m going to have to say yes.”

The flush that had started after chugging down the coffee made his entire face a ridiculous cherry set on his shoulders and it continued to flame on high as he shifted in his seat. “Are you staying or going?”

She pursed her lips. “Staying, for now. Though I don’t really know what to do at this point because I can’t take my job back after giving Conner the promotion. And I have no intention of being a coffee gopher, or to sit around and get paid to merely exist.”

“Why not?” A flash of humor now as a quick shot of a smile danced across his mouth.

“Why not get paid to merely exist? Because I have more self respect than that.”

“Nah, why not get paid to be my coffee gopher? I could give you a uniform and everything.”

“Screw you, Benji.”

The tension between them lifted as rapidly as it’d come, but the problem was that Charlie had a feeling that Benji had simply bottled away whatever was wrong with him and slapped on a smile instead.

“Really though, Charlie, you could totally be a coffee girl…and if you wore a mini-skirt, I bet Parker would tip you his life savings.”

“Can it, pup, or I’ll smack that smart mouth back into your head.”

“Oh yeah, I’m terrified of a half-pint security guard. Oh sorry,
ex
-security guard.”

Snatching a pillow off the couch, she wound up and let fly and smiled at the satisfying thud that followed.

“Damn, Charlie, was that really necessary?”

“Quit pouting and get out of here. I’ve got to get ready for the day and you’ve gotta go rub some of that ugly off yourself.”

“Baby, you’re just jealous that you’ve got to get ready to be half as pretty as me.”

“Out. Now,” she barked in an authoritative voice and Benji bounded out the door.

Chuckling, a smile dancing across her face, Charlie began to tidy up the couch and coffee mugs. That had gone better than expected. He hadn’t blown up about her running with Zane and he hadn’t made her explain why she’d wanted to leave, or what Zane had said to convince her to stay. Though she was going to have to figure that one out for herself first.

Why
had
she chosen to stay?

Chapter Four

Zane woke up alone, sprawled on the hard concrete floor of the stadium under the stands, no longer in wolf form and stiff as a board. He let out a low groan as he stretched, working the kinks from his back slowly, then froze when his arm stretched out and greeted nothing but air.

He’d fallen asleep cozied up besides Charlie, reveling in the shared warmth of their bodies. He’d tickled her nose with his tail and she’d bitten it, her blue eyes playful. They’d dozed off in the wee hours of the morning. Together. A smile sprang to his face, unbidden, and he let out another groan for good measure.

Damn it, he was smitten with the woman already, after just a romp. How would he feel after he lured her to his bed for an endless night of passion? Damn good, that’s how he’d feel, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. But if he didn’t play his cards right, she’d resist him every step of the way. She was cold steel right now, holding herself rigid against the feelings he knew she had for him, deep down. She just needed warmed up, softened a little.

He knew nothing about this sort of thing, honestly. He’d always had women fawning over him left and right—he’d never had to actually
work
at a relationship before. But the other girls had meant nothing. They’d been fun for a night or two, and then he’d lost interest. He’d only ever slept with one wolf outside his pack. The rest had been human and hadn’t interested his beast in the least little bit.

Charlie did. She’d called to him by just existing. She always had, for as long as he’d known her. Every time their eyes met, he felt it, a shared bond between them. A tickle in his heart, yearning to reach out and gather her in his arms and kiss every worry she ever had away.

He’d always heard tales of the wolf half of a person choosing their mate, but he never actually thought he’d settle down, especially not while the band was still riding on the crest of fame. This should’ve been his party years and all of a sudden, the idea of sleeping with a woman other than Charlie didn’t tempt him in the least.

He’d keep her. Until the end of the tour and, if he had it his way, until the end of their lives. Zane ambled to his feet and strode from the empty stadium, careful to avoid possible fans lurking around the corner. The sunlight cast a bright spring haze across everything and brought a tinge of afternoon heat to the air.

Pulling the keychain from his pocket, Zane unlocked his trailer and climbed the steps, shutting and locking the door behind him. He flicked on the lights out of habit, though the sun was so bright that they did nothing more than glow dimly, and he gathered a half-empty jar of instant coffee and a mug of water. Microwaving it for a minute-thirty, he poured double the granules into the cup and watched the liquid turn dark.

Then he contradicted it with two scoops of creamer and a pile of sugar, sipping it until it was sweet enough. He’d never particularly liked coffee—he just drank it for the zip of caffeine and after only having about four hours of solid sleep, he knew he’d be dragging by two in the afternoon.

He turned the TV on and flipped aimlessly through the channels. Settling on infomercials, he sprawled out on the couch and let his mind wander. How could he keep Charlie? If he could get her to stick by his side long enough to get to know the real him, not the careless-rock star façade he showed the world… If he could get her to fall for him until the feelings he held for her were mutual…

When he surfaced from his thoughts, his coffee was cold. But he had a plan. A slightly devious plan, but a plan that should work. No. A plan that
would
work. But he couldn’t pull it off by himself. Maybe it was time to gather the guys. At least Micah and Parker; Benji had the tendency to let things slip. The poor guy just couldn’t keep secrets to save his ass.

He found himself at Parker’s trailer, rapping on the door. The other wolf answered, half naked, but looking perky and not the least bit hung-over, despite probably partying hard last night. “Hey, long time, no see. You get lost? Find yourself a nice little tail to chase?” Parker grinned wide, knowingly. No doubt he smelled Charlie on Zane’s skin.

“Something like that. Get some clothes on and meet me at Micah’s trailer.” He didn’t wait for an answer—he was their boss and they knew it—so he just turned and walked off. Micah took twice as long to answer his door and unlike their keyboardist, he looked like he was still smashed. He blinked wearily at Zane, who smiled. “Have a good night?”

“Mnn.” Micah shuffled back into the darkness of his trailer and Zane followed him in. A minute later, Parker bounded in as well and they made themselves comfortable on the couch. Micah scrubbed both hands over his face and moaned again. “Killer headache.”

“Killer party,” Parker shot back. “You just drank too much.”

“Yeah, you look like shit, man,” Zane offered, not so helpfully.

“Fuck off.”

“Easy. Take a couple aspirin, chase it with coffee. Push through the pain. I need you to focus.” Zane leaned forward on the couch, elbows perched on his knees. His band mates looked at him, curiosity brightening their eyes, and he smiled. “I have a plan to keep Charlie.”

“Thought she was leaving?”