“I’m going to rip your hands off,” Austin grumbled from the other couch. He had been so quiet while watching television that I’d kind of forgotten he was in the room with me.
“Sounds like you’re in a better mood.” I clicked the lighter closed before tossing it onto the coffee table. Roscoe and I agreed to keep what the mayor said quiet until we figured out what his motives were. The last thing I needed to worry about was Austin melting down again.
“I could tear you apart right now.”
“You won’t,” I said dismissively, kicking my feet up on the couch while scrolling through the messages on my phone.
He gave another glare before turning back to the television screen.
“Adam and Roscoe won’t be back for a couple days, so either learn to get along with me or go hide in your garage.”
Without another word, Austin tossed the remote onto the coffee table and stood.
“Hold on.”
“What?”
“That was more of an invitation to converse. I wasn’t actually telling you to leave.”
The werewolf let out a short hiss through his teeth and opened the door.
“Come on, I’m trying to—”
The door clicked shut, with Austin now on the other side of it. These planned couple of days were already off to agreatstart. Roscoe’s ‘buddy’ had reneged on his promise to pick up the moving truck, so we needed to get it back to the city. Since Roscoe was the only one that really knew how to drive, he had to be the one to do it. I would have gone with him, but Adam was about as persistent as a Jack Russell Terrier waiting by the front door. Instead of telling him no, I’d reluctantly stood aside.
Having Adam out of the picture for a little while allowed me some precious alone time with Austin without having to deal with both of them arguing about everything. It was hard enough to find a moment Austin wasn’t pissed off, but Adam always exacerbated his bad mood. If I was going to have any chance in hell of getting control of the situation, I needed to win Austin over—or at the very least, get him to hate me less.
The squirming and rumbling of my stomach reminded me I hadn’t yet eaten lunch. Being cranky and hungry wasn’t going to help, so I’d leave him alone while I got a snack. Maybe I’d also watch a movie and get some chores done. It wasn’t like I had to get this done today, right?
The mayor’s expectations of me seemed egregious. Roscoe was the oldest and the one actually holding everyone together. His cooking was what lured Austin out of his hole, and his jokes kept the conversations light when they’d veer off into dangerous territory. Not only that, he seemed to know exactly what to say or what advice to give when the situation called for it.
Those redeeming qualities were also fused to an infuriating lack of motivation, like a Cronenberg monster of sage-like stupidity.
What was I thinking? I couldn’t trust Roscoe to lead a buffet line, let alone this family.
I rummaged through the pantry, trying to find something I wouldn’t need to cook. Roscoe bought a lot of sweets, which, oddly enough, hadn’t added more to his waistline. I hated to admit it, but even with his gut, the werewolf was naturally handsome. It made me wonder what he’d look like as a human if he had the mayor’s ability. Could he at least take on half-turn form like Austin?
As I shifted around a bunch of cream-filled snacks with nothing I wanted in sight, I almost considered tearing open a package of saltines. However, something in the far corner caughtmy eye. It was a black, unopened bag of pre-popped popcorn that looked like it had been purposely hidden.
After grabbing the snack, I headed back into the living room and planted myself on the sofa before turning up the television volume. The bag crackled as I tore it open. I then snatched a handful, shoveling it into my mouth.
The door leading to the garage creaked open, and Austin emerged, sniffing the air.
“Is that white cheddar popcorn?”
I examined the front of the bag. “Yeah,” I said, a bit puzzled as he padded toward the couch. “Do you want some?”
He plopped down on the sofa, stuck his nose in the bag and began to salivate. “Yes.”
I passed the popcorn, and he tilted the bag above his mouth, scarfing down nearly half of its contents. Bits fell into his lap as he chomped away, licking his fingers afterward before shoving his slobbery hand in.
“Keep it, I guess,” I said. Austin wasn’t even listening to me anymore. It was as though nothing else mattered but that popcorn. “If you’re hungry, I could make you something.”
He stopped chewing, and his eyes went wide. “Roscoe told me to keep you away from the stove. He was like, serious about it.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not a child! I know what I’m doing now.”
Austin licked his fingers again, his expression pensive. “I could go for a sandwich.”
