Page 135 of Wicked Savage Wolves
She claims a seat on the sofa across from me instead of sitting beside me like before. “No.”
A muscle tics in my jaw.
“Jordy—“ Her voice is soft and I can feel the careful letdown she’s about to deliver and I don’t fucking want it. “I don’t know you.”
“Then get to know me.” That’s what dating is for, right? I’ve never done the whole exclusive thing before but I know how it works. Humans like to date before they decide to marry. I’m not missing a step here. At least I don’t think I am.
“Aren’t you seeing someone? Georgia or Kaitlyn or,” she rolls her eyes on a forced laugh, “I don’t know, half the senior class? All the girls at least.”
Is that what this is about? My reputation? I sleep around, sure. Sharing skin privileges isn't some taboo thing for my kind. But that doesn’t mean I have to. I haven’t been with anyone since she came back. I sure as shit don’t belong to anyone else. I’ve never been exclusive with a girl—shifter or otherwise. Joaninha would be the first. The only.
“No,” I deadpan. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’d like to see you. The mother of my goddamn child.” Why is this such a difficult concept for her to wrap her mind around? I know we grew up different. I’m a wolf for chrissakes, but that aside, we’re both Hispanic or Latino or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I’m Honduran. She’s Brazilian. Our cultural upbringings couldn’t have been so different that she wouldn’t at least see the appeal in raising our son together. I’m trying to do the right thing here. Why is she making that so difficult?
“I don’t know you,” she repeats. Again.
“You know me well enough to let me finger-fuck you in a classroom.”
Her eyes narrow to slits.
I run my hands through my hair and try to tamp down my frustration. “Will you get to know me, then? I think our son deserves at least that much from us.”
“For César?”
Fuck, yes. Fine. “For César,” I agree.
She nods. “Okay. I’ll get to know you.”
That’s still not an agreement to date.
Goddammit. If doing things the human way isn’t going to work then fuck it. We’ll go after this like a wolf.
* * *
We spendthe next three days getting to know one another. All day Saturday and Sunday, and then I show up right after patrols Monday evening. We agreed my next visit would be today, Wednesday, but Joaninha wasn’t at school and she didn’t answer any of my texts. There’s an irrational fear inside me that says she’s bolted with my boy, but when I show up unannounced on her front porch, she lets me in without question and for the first time, César reaches for me.
There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is haphazardly thrown up into a bun thing on top of her head. “You look,” I pause, choosing my words carefully, “tired. Everything alright?”
She sighs. “Yeah. César is teething, so we didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Oh. “Is that why you weren’t at school today?” It makes sense. I pluck César from her arms and follow her inside.
Despite her oversized shirt, I can tell her spine is stiff as she hastily picks up César’s toys from the ground. “Umm…no. My mom usually watches César while I’m in school, but she’s dealing with Diego stuff today so…” she trails off and then hastily adds, “I have it sorted with my teachers. It’s not a big deal.”
My brows furrow. Her scent contradicts her words, the lie subtle but there, but I decide to leave it alone, knowing it isn’t my place. “Cool. Is it alright if I hang for a bit with César?”
She nods. “Yeah, that would be great actually. Do you care if I take a shower and catch up on some homework? You can have some one-on-one time with him?”
My smile widens and I turn to César. “What do you think, little man. Wanna kick it with Dad?”
He gurgles and waves a fist in the air which I take to mean hell yeah, so I turn back to Joaninha with a grin. “Sounds good. Shower away.” I try not to think about her naked and wet in said shower, but my mind wants to go places it shouldn’t. It’s been nice these past few days, which is better than I could have expected.
At first it was terrifying. There is so much I don’t know, and when César is tired or hungry, it’s not like he can tell me. I don’t know his cues, but I learned real fast that my boy has a temper. If I take too long trying to figure out what he wants, my man loses it. Who knew something so tiny could be so explosive? And the diaper changes, my God. Nothing this cute should smell that bad.
The uncertainty has mostly faded now. I still don’t know everything there is to know, but I’m learning, and Joaninha’s been good about filling me in if she thinks he’s trying to tell me something. She doesn’t have to make this easy on me. She isn’t required to help me figure out how to be a dad. But she has been. Helpful, I mean. And while it’s the least she can do after keeping him from me, I guess, I don’t know, I appreciate it. Hell, I’m grateful, really. Not that I’ll tell her that.
We haven’t talked about the whole dating thing again, but I think I’m winning her over. It’s slow moving, but I can be patient.
She heads upstairs and I move with César to the living room, finding the basket of blocks and cars she keeps close by for him. We play on the floor for a bit before grabbing a snack from the kitchen, one of those food pouch things he seems to like.
