The cheap, furnished places Noah rented either didn’t have TVs or required cable. No unnecessary expenses, especially when he wouldn’t hang around.
Noah prepared himself to run at the first sign of trouble. His wolf must have had some trust in Slade to sleep with the human in the room.
They ate, each sitting on their own bed, saying nothing, while two people on the TV talked about news from places Noah read about in books.
“Look, I’ve got appointments most of the day. Will you be all right here alone?” Slade asked, rising to his feet.
Alone. Again. Noah’s least favorite word. “What kind of appointments?” Was he allowed to ask? He knew nothing about human rules.
“Tattoos. I’ll be inking skin all day.”
Really? “Like what’s on your skin?”
Slade smiled. “Yeah. See this one?” He held out his right forearm, displaying a colorful dragon in flight. “This is my work.”
Noah felt his brow pull tight. He pretended to hold a pen, drawing imaginary art on his arm.
“I’m left-handed,” Slade said.
Oh.
Slade’s face animated, his words so passionate while talking about his work. “I did some of the work on my leg too. I practiced on myself as an apprentice and covered over a few of the worst ones.” The man’s smile matched his art: vivid, brilliant, attention-grabbing. The heavily tattooed biker looked far less intimidating when he smiled.
Some tensesomethinginside Noah relaxed. His lips curled upward into an answering smile. “Apprentice? Cover over?”
“My first appointment is a cover-up. A woman wants her ex-boyfriend’s name gone. After today, ‘Kevin’ will be a rose.”
“That’s how you earn money?” At least tattooing sounded more legal than Paul’s work. And more lucrative than getting paid under the table for farm chores.
“Some. I also paint custom motorcycle helmets and gas tanks. Then there’s the damned good money I make from a weekly online video channel. I’ll show you later if you want.” Slade pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “That’ll have to wait for later. If I get the chance, I’ll bring you some lunch. I’ll call if I can’t stop by so you can order pizza.”
“Order pizza?” How did one order pizza?
Noah’s confusion must’ve shown. “You’ve never ordered a pizza?” Slade asked, voice incredulous.
“No. I like living in remote places. No one delivers pizza there. I cooked mostly everything I ate, but I’ve been to a few diners.”
A wrinkle appeared between Slade’s brows. “You didn’t leave home? Ever?”
“I worked on some nearby farms. Hunted. Camped out.”
“But nothing involving other people.”
“People make me nervous.” Especially the ones chasing Noah with guns. Nothing wrong with admitting some truth, right? Not easy to hide Noah’s level of awkwardness around humans.
Slade studied him a long moment. “Okay. Tell you what. If I can’t come back for lunch, I’ll arrange delivery.”
A stranger? Bringing food to the room? Noah must not have hidden his panic well, for Slade added, “I’ll call you first and let you know, okay? But, if at all possible, I’ll come myself.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know how to work a remote?” Slade aimed a plastic device toward the TV. The program changed.
“No. I’ve never worked a TV.”
Slade’s mouth fell open. “Never?”
“No. P…Paul didn’t think much of TV. Too much human propaganda, he said.” Oh, fuck! Had Noah said that aloud? His heart pounded in his throat as he waited for a reaction. Nothing. His nerves calmed. He’d have to be more careful in the future. “Since I wasn’t raised watching TV, I never really needed it. I read books instead.”
