A Girl and Her Wolf (Howl, #7) (8 page)

Chapter 13: Colby

While Emma went on another one of her walks—shutting Colby out from her thoughts, yet
again
—he tried to find a way to not worry too much. He hated when they kept things from each other, and it felt like that was all she was doing lately.

Trying to occupy himself, he turned to Daven, who was playing in his bouncer on the floor. “Aunt Emma is acting odd lately, isn’t she, buddy?” he asked.

Davenport stared up at him knowingly. Colby was about to make animal noises because it was one of the things he’d found that the baby really seemed to love, but it was obvious from Daven’s eyes, which were fluttering closed, that he was ready for naptime again.

Emma was right. The baby
was
sleeping much more than normal lately. Colby wasn’t sure if he should be alarmed about it or not, though.

After he placed Daven in his crib, he stared at him for a few moments—just long enough to watch him drift off to sleep.

Then, Colby sat down on the bed and pulled Emma’s diary out of the top drawer of his nightstand. Except, there were even
more
diaries in various colors and designs. Apparently Emma had been keeping a diary for almost as long as Colby had—and more importantly, she had left them somewhere she knew he would find them. On
purpose.
He was glad that his mate wanted him to learn so much about her. It was odd to admit, but reading the diary was one of the only things that had comforted him in a while.

He
picked up a glittery orange one, flipped to a random page, and began to read what she had written.

Dear Diary,

The party at my house last night totally sucked. I’m not usually the type to get so drunk that I fall down the stairs, but that’s exactly what happened. . .

Colby smiled, remembering exactly which party Emma was talking about. Even though they’d known each other since they were kids, it was the first time he had ever realized that he had feelings for her.

*

Colby still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to let Luke drag him to the party at Emma’s house. It wasn’t long before Luke had abandoned him to talk to a bunch of girls. That left him alone, standing in the hallway, minding his own business and waiting for the bathroom to open up, when Emma Taylor came tumbling down the stairs behind him. He didn’t see it firsthand, but his best guess was that her gigantic heels had snagged on the carpet, causing her to lose her balance. It was either that, or because she was drunk as a skunk.

“Ow,” she slurred, sitting up.

Sometimes, Colby thought that Emma’s drunken moments were just an act to get attention from everyone. He was pretty sure that this wasn’t one of those times, though.

“Wow, it feels like the room is spinning,” she murmured as she gazed past him. “Nice haircut.”

Colby shook his head, rolling his eyes. “It’s a hat, Emma. I think you better lay down.”

He expected her to fight him about it at first, but she nodded in agreement. “I think I’m going to end up falling again if I don’t lie down. Wait, I did just fall . . . right? I’m not imagining it.”

“Yes, you fell. That’s the reason you’re on the floor,” he explained, helping her up. Glancing around to make sure that no one was watching them, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. He settled her into her bed, wrapping the comforter around her.
  

“What do you want me to tell people when they ask where you went?” Colby questioned.

“I don’t care. Just tell them . . . tell them I went on vacation,” she murmured dreamily.

He suppressed a smile. “I’ll just tell them you’re not feeling so great so they should all leave, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma agreed. Just as he was about to turn off the light, she asked, “Colby Jack?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. She had her cover pulled up to her neck and she was staring at him. “When you’re done letting everyone know they need to go home, can you come back?”

“Come back
here
?” he asked, confused.

She nodded. “I want you to stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Colby felt his heart thump against his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about anyone besides his mate, and there was no way Emma was his mate. Aside from the fact that she wasn’t a werewolf and he couldn’t hear her thoughts, he’d already been given a mate. Now that Meagan was gone, he would never have a second mate.

But that didn’t mean that the butterflies that filled his stomach weren’t real, either.

“Okay,” he told her. “I’ll be back.”

*

The next morning, Colby woke up and found Emma’s head pressed against his bare chest and her arm wrapped around his waist. He couldn’t help but smile. It was hard to believe that the most beautiful girl in school would wake up next to him.

Just as quickly as the idea crossed his mind, though, he realized that it was probably an accident. There was no way
Emma Taylor
, who had made fun of him for so many years, would knowingly sleep this way with him.

No, she definitely had no idea that she was even touching him in her sleep and, as much as he enjoyed it, Colby didn’t want her to wake up feeling horrified, either. So, he removed her arm from his waist and got out of bed, careful not to wake her up.

Luckily, she seemed to be a heavy sleeper.

Pulling on his shirt, which he’d left on her computer chair the night before, he went downstairs and took in the sight of the rest of the house. When he’d made everyone else leave the night before, he hadn’t even thought about the mess they would leave behind. All he’d been able to think about was the fact that Emma wanted him to stay with her, even though she had already fallen asleep before he’d climbed into bed.

Colby had no idea when Emma’s parents would get home, but he wanted to make sure that there was no evidence of the party, just in case. The last thing Emma needed after her drunken night was to get in trouble for having a party. So, Colby found a black trash bag in the kitchen and began to stuff all of the beer cans and bottles inside, the glass and aluminum clanking together loudly as he filled the bag up.

About an hour later, Emma strolled into the living room, her blonde hair a disheveled mess. Her eyes were puffy and she hadn’t bothered to wash off her makeup from the night before, but she had managed to change out of the jeans and t-shirt she’d gone to sleep in and into a tank top and short shorts.

Colby tried to force himself not to stare at her bare legs, but it was incredibly hard.

“What are you still doing here, Colby Jack?” Emma asked, puzzled. “Everyone else went home already.”

“You asked me to stay here with you last night? Don’t you remember?” Even as he said the words, though, a horrible sinking feeling filled his stomach.

“
I
asked
you
to stay here with
me
?” The disbelief was written all over her face.

“Yeah . . . you did.” Colby felt like a moron. She must not have meant to ask him to stay the night with her. In her drunken state, she probably had even thought he was someone else . . . although he distinctly remembered her calling him Colby Jack. Still, Emma didn’t even want to be seen talking to someone with his low social status; why would he think that she would ask him to stay with her?

God, he was so dumb.

Emma seemed to consider it for a moment before shrugging. “Well, if you say I did, then I guess I must have. But I think I maybe drank too much last night.” She eyed him curiously. “We didn’t have sex . . . did we?”

Colby shook his head, not glancing over at her to see the look of relief that had surely crossed her face. “No, but you’re right. You did get really drunk. In fact, drunk is probably an understatement. You should really be careful next time, Emma. You’ve probably never considered this, but . . . alcohol poisoning can and does happen. I would hate to see anything like that happen to you.”

Emma smiled at him sweetly. “I appreciate your concern, Colby Jack, but I’ll be fine.” She looked like she was about to make a snarky remark, but she covered her mouth like she was about to vomit. “Thanks for cleaning up. You can let yourself out,” she managed to mumble before making a mad dash for the bathroom.

Colby heard the sound of her retching loudly, which made him grimace. He might have been a werewolf, but there was still nothing grosser than the sound of someone puking a room away from you. He wondered if he should stay there with Emma, but she’d made it pretty clear that she wanted him to leave. He didn’t want to push his limits, so he tied the black garbage bag and took it out the front door with him, hoping that she’d be okay.

*

At school on Monday morning, Colby thought about skipping his art class. He suddenly felt embarrassed about what had happened on Saturday night. Clearly, he had gotten overly excited about spending the night with someone who wanted no part of him. It made him feel foolish, and he wondered if Emma had already started spreading rumors around school about him.

He was still wondering about it when Emma walked into the classroom. She didn’t look any better than she had on Sunday morning. In fact, Colby couldn’t help but wonder if she’d drank more after he’d left, or if it really just took her that long to shake off a hangover.

Whatever the case was, she groaned loudly as she took a seat across from him. She slumped over, pressing her forehead against the cool surface of the art table.

Colby blinked, trying to process it.
Emma
was sitting at
his
table . . . in front of
everyone
. And it didn’t even seem like it bothered her.

He knew that it was probably just a one-time thing, though—probably because she was still drunk or hung-over, or whatever. He tried not to get his hopes up over it.

*

The next day, though, when Colby got to art class, he found that Emma was sitting in the same seat. His table was otherwise empty; there were no cool football players or cheerleader types that she could want to sit there for.

It was just her and him.

“Wow, that’s really
good
,” Colby commented, glancing down at Emma’s self-portrait as he sat down. “You’re really talented.”

“You think?” Emma stared at the charcoal drawing in front of her. The deep-set eyes, delicate features, and freckled skin were a dead ringer for hers.

“Yeah, definitely,” he replied. Even though he felt nervous about talking to her in general, he decided to bite the bullet and invite her to hang out with him outside of school—
sort of
.  “Hey, I take this class at an art studio on Saturday mornings. Why don’t you come with me?”

It seemed like a strange way to connect with her outside of school, but it was the first thing that had come to mind that had in common. Colby had gotten really into his art classes recently. It was one of the things that his therapist had recommended to him after his mate, Meagan, had died, and oddly enough, it was one of the only things that really seemed to help. It allowed him to express himself without whining about his problems to everyone else—which was e
xactly
what he needed.

“Are there still any empty spots?” Emma questioned as she began to blend her hair on the sketchpad in front of her.

He tried not to stare at her in awe. That was
so
not the response he’d been expecting. “Well, actually, we just had a few people drop out, so there’s plenty of room.”

Believe it or not, he’d actually convinced Steve and Chris to go to the studio with him for the new season, but after a few classes, Chris had said there was no way Colby would ever be able to drag him back. Then, after a few more classes, Steve had been kicked out forever when he’d made a few less than appropriate comments to the nude models during figure-drawing week.

Turning to Emma, Colby told her, “In fact, it’ll be free for this first class, since my friend just dropped out. You can just take his place.”

He was pretty sure that wasn’t how it actually worked, but it didn’t really matter. He would use the money that he still had saved from mowing lawns over the summer to pay for it.

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to try it out, right?” Emma asked, her eyes lighting up as she glanced over at him. “You’ll just have to write down all of the details for me.”

“Okay, I will. Oh, and you’re going to need to get a permission slip signed from your parental guardian, I think. I mean, I had to because we had to draw a few naked people, but we’re past that now . . . so maybe you won’t actually have to.” He knew that he was rambling, but he couldn’t help himself. The idea of spending more time with Emma outside of school sent a jolt through him—a jolt that he’d been positive he would never feel again after Meagan’s death.

“Oh.” Her face fell a little.