I crush my cigarette, too, and walk into the club. When I don’t see Drew anywhere, I head straight to my car and drive away.
Saturday. The day when Drew will regret ever believing he’s above justice. The day Drew Blue takes his last breath.
I sigh an aggrieved sigh. His stupid name ruins even the most dramatic internal monologues,damn him.
Saturday. The day I have to face a werewolf who has murdered at least one human and can kill me with a swipe of a finger. But before that, I have to suffer through dinner with two of my friends who are grossly in love.
I can’t tell which one is responsible for the shiver down my spine.
***
I knock on Oliver’s door, preemptively exhausted. And I still have a murder to commit after this. Saturdays shouldn’t be this eventful in your thirties.
“Elliot’s here,” Matt shouts over his shoulder when he opens the door. “Hey, Oliver is just finishing up in the kitchen,” he says to me, thankfully in a decibel that won’t blast my eardrums. Aren’t werewolves supposed to be sensitive to sounds?
I smile at him and let him lead me in.
“You drove straight from work?” he asks, grasping for small talk. Matt and I never found a common ground to connect over. Not that I have much with Oliver either, but the man is just better at strong-arming people into becoming his friends.
“Yup,” I say, following him to the kitchen.
Oliver is shoving a large casserole dish into the oven. He walks up to me when he’s done and wraps me in a hug. I’m caught off guard, but I manage to pat him on the back twice before he peels away and takes a step back. “Why the fuck don’t you ever answer my texts?” he complains.
I roll my eyes. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Because you wanted free food,” Matt points out from theother end of the counter, where he’s shoving what looks and smells like homemade garlic bread into his face. What the fuck, Matt? That wasn’t veryawkward small-talk broof you.
“Exactly,” Oliver says victoriously.
I tilt my head, scowling at Matt. “Aren’t those supposed to be eaten with dinner?” I point at the tray Matt is clutching protectively. Two can play this game,Matt.
“Matt. Those are supposed to go with dinner.” Oliver walks over to him and snatches the tray back. Well, let’s be honest, Matt hands it over to him. But you wouldn’t know that with all the sulking his face is doing right now. Even his shoulders droop a bit for added effect.
Oliver ignores him. I’m proud of him for that because it takes a man with strong bones to say no to a six-foot-five broader-than-a-doorway werewolf who’s curling in on himself. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,you baby.”
I smirk.
Oliver pours three glasses of wine and hands one over to Matt, which placates him. I grab the other one, and we take our little cranky party to the couch.
“When was the last time you slept, man? You look like you spent the entire week in the clinic,” Oliver says once we’re seated. Matt and Oliver on the big couch, and I sit on one of the small ones facing them. Our placement unfortunately means I’m the center of attention again.
Oliver isn’t far from the truth, though. I’ve been spending a longer-than-strictly-necessary time in the clinic lately, only leaving when I have just enough energy to drive home without crashing the car mid-way.
Not that it helped. I still can’t get any sleep. I feel too restless whenever I try, my skin buzzing with the need to act.
At least things will get better after tonight.
“Just one of those insanely busy weeks,” I wave him off. “How is living together going?” I change the topic not-so subtly.
But it works. “I’d say we’re fine to keep it going for now,” Oliver shrugs casually, but the effect is completely ruined by thesmile slowly spreading across his face.
Matt laughs. “That’s weirdly close to what you said last night,” he says.
Oliver goes red so quickly, I’m worried he’ll faint, and when I glance at Matt, he’s not looking any better.
Good, becausegross. “I really,reallydon’t want to know. I’m not a curious person. In fact, I would love to scrape out most of the things I already know about this and you,” I tell them honestly.
Matt turns to me and smiles. “Wow, now I know how to get more than monosyllabic responses from Elliot.” He looks at Oliver. “Did I just crack some kind of code?”
