Chapter 37 - More wolves

By Friday, everything seemed back to normal with my pull. Men once again noticed me. Their eyes followed me around campus. Thankfully, they seemed to remember my repeated rejections from the beginning of the semester and didn't approach me anew.

I did wonder what exactly had happened, though. The suspicions that floated around in my head needed further examination, but I wanted to talk through them while Clay listened.

When I walked through the door just before five, an empty house greeted me. I really needed to find out his work schedule.

Rachel got home a little after five. As soon as she walked in the door, she announced she'd decided to go out to a dance club. She continued to her room without waiting for a response from me. I followed her, needing the company. Life had just been a little too weird for me over the past week.

"Don't suppose you'd like to come with?" she asked, looking at the options in her closet.

I sat in the middle of her bed, safely out of the way of any clothing options she tossed behind her.

"You know how it is," I said as I plucked at a string in her quilt. "It's just worse if they're drinking."

"Which one do you like better?" Rachel asked, demanding my attention. She'd pulled two dresses from her closet. "This one?" She held up a red dress with a tuck that crossed the middle to accentuate the wearer's curves. "Or this one?" She indicated a standard black dress with a twist. The real hemline was shorter than the red's, but a secondary hemline, comprised of strands of beads, hung from the first hemline, giving the illusion of another six inches.

"I think the black one would be more fun to dance in."

"I think you're right." She set both on the bed and rummaged in her jewelry box. "I have an idea. Peter can't go out tonight. I think we should make it a girl's night out." She turned with something in her hand and arched a brow at me. "Unless you have plans with Sir Talks-A-Lot?"

"No, but—"

She tossed what she held in my direction. By reflex, I caught it.

"Have you ever tried wearing a ring? Some friends of mine do it when they want to go out to have fun and not be bothered by anyone." She grabbed the black dress, handed it to me, then begged. "Let's just try. It's a club with extremely expensive drinks. The prices discourage an all-out drunk, and it has great music."

I hesitated, thinking of Clay. Did I really want to sit here, waiting? It wouldn't help him get home faster. The niggling concern that his delay related to another challenge reared its head. But Sam had assured me that the challenger would want to heal between fights. If Clay dished out more than he got, the other guy wouldn't be ready yet, anyway.

She pounced on my hesitation. "You know I'll leave anytime you say you're ready to go. You never seem to let your hair down and just have fun. With that kind of constant tension, you're going to end up with heart disease or something."

Her comment about never having fun hit home. I did tend toward the more serious course. When was the last time I did something just for the fun of it? For myself? The double date with Scott had been for Rachel. The party last weekend had been for Nicole. The Introductions for the last two years had been for Sam.

Pathetically, I hadn't done anything just for fun since before I went to live with Sam. Even going to school and getting an education was more for my grandma than me. Before she died, I'd made her a promise to get an education and find something that made me happy.

But would going out dancing really be something I would find fun? I toyed with the fringe on the dress. Yes, dancing would be fun. The men who I'd rather avoid made it a less than fun idea. I looked at the ring in my palm. The large stone sparkled brightly. It was meant to be noticed, but not gaudy. Would it work?

"We'd leave at the first sign the ring doesn't work? Even if we never make it into the club?" I glanced up at her and caught her hopeful expression.

"I've got your back," she promised. "First sign, and we're home, curled on the couch, watching a chick flick."

"All right," I sighed and grabbed the black dress. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Gee, thanks," Rachel said with a laugh as I left to change.

****

Rachel and I had to stand in a long line. It seemed the college crowd favored the downtown club despite the overpriced drinks. We shuffled forward every few seconds while listening to the muted music that thumped from within. Each time the bouncer opened the door it briefly grew louder. The door didn't open frequently enough.

I shivered as we inched forward and tried not to move too much so the cold beads wouldn't touch my legs. Eventually we grew close enough that I could watch the man at the door methodically check everyone's ID. I wasn't worried. I knew I wouldn't have a problem getting in.

"Finally," Rachel said with a smile as she stepped up to the man. She showed her ID.

The bouncer barely looked at her. He eyed me closely, not even glancing at the ID I held out. I withstood his scrutiny, wishing he'd hurry so we could warm up inside. I'd pulled my hair back into a messy knot and added a touch of eyeliner and mascara. It wasn't much of a change, but between the makeup and the dress, he looked at me as if I were a goddess. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Then his eyes settled on the ring I wore.

"You come get me if anyone inside gives you any problems," he said. I nodded. He opened the door for us, and I stepped inside after Rachel.

The music's bass reverberated through the floor and my body. I wouldn't be able to hear anything else but didn't care. The club's warm air enveloped me.

Rachel pointed toward the bar. A long blackboard above the bar, filled with neon-colored chalk, listed their specialty drinks and prices. As promised, the drinks were expensive. Good thing we wanted to dance, not drink.

Grabbing my hand, she pulled me to the edge of the swaying crowd and started to dance. I did a little twist in the dress and smiled to myself as the beaded hemline flared out. The dress was as fun to wear as I'd thought. Then the beads slapped my legs on the backswing. The sting of it made me rethink the fun factor. If anyone got out of line, maybe I could use it as a weapon.

The music freed me from worry about male attention, about Clay, and about Sam and his stupid rules. I danced with Rachel and truly had fun.

Eventually, reality invaded in the form of our own all-male crowd, and our dancing became a game of evasion. Rachel arched a brow at me. I shook my head, not yet ready to call it quits. The deafening music made it impossible for them to talk to me, and its fast, heavy beat didn't inspire a slow, close dance. As long as I evaded the bump and grind, I could still enjoy myself.

After a few songs, I signaled to Rachel because a persistent member of the group kept rubbing up against my backside. She grabbed my hand, and we both ignored the protests of the men around us as she led the way to the bar. A few of the men followed. One of them managed to pull out his wallet and order drinks for both of us before we could stop him. Rachel took hers, but I shook my head and shouted to the bartender that I just wanted water. The generous buyer sulked a bit, but I ignored him and his shouted attempts at conversation.

Sipping my water, I looked around, feeling watched—by someone not in the immediate group of men who surrounded us.

I spotted two women further down the bar. They weren't exactly watching me. They were eyeing the crowd of men around us. Neither looked angry, but both looked a little envious. Dressed very similar to Rachel and me, they stood isolated at the bar. The way they kept glancing at me, they probably wondered what I had that they didn't. I couldn't blame them. I looked a bit frumpier than they did.

I motioned to Rachel, and we moved down the bar so our group would spread out to include the two women as well. I shouted my name over the music and pointed to myself by way of introduction. The women smiled and seemed friendly. They tried to make conversation with a few of the men.

I didn't notice someone leaning close to me until his breath tickled my neck and his unfamiliar voice spoke smoothly in my ear.

"About time you left your guard dog at home." He was just loud enough so I could hear him over the music.

Curious, I turned. He stood several inches taller than I did. No surprise since just about everyone towered over me. He looked even taller than Clay, but not as wide-shouldered. He had copper brown hair and hazel eyes. A humor-filled smile flashed at me as I studied him.

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

He leaned in and spoke in my ear. "No need to shout, love. You know I can hear you just fine." His lips touched the curve of my ear, and I shivered as he inhaled deeply. "Mm, you smell good."