Page 14

LUKE

After my training session with Hunter, I spent some time hanging out and skipping stones down on the shoreline. Then I took myself to Phoebe’s cafe for breakfast and got a haircut I didn’t really need. I wasn’t willing to admit to myself that I was avoiding going home, but that was exactly what I was doing. But finally, I couldn’t put it off any longer.

I just really didn’t want to deal with the elevator, okay?

I faced the stairwell, and in a fit of optimism, decided that maybe today my willpower would be enough to get me upstairs.

Spoiler—it wasn’t.

After trying and failing to access my apartment no less than five times and falling down the stairs every damn time, I ended up getting stuck with my hands clutching a top step and my feet firmly on the ground at the bottom. My body was stretched out like saggy old underwear elastic, and the whole attempt was a waste of time and dignity—not that I had much of that left.

I was still clutching the step and kicking myself for listening to the lies my ego had told me—you can get up the stairs, Luke! How hard can it be?—when Mr. Grayson walked into the lobby from outside. He took one look at the way my sorry ass was stretched out on the steps, clicked his tongue, then wordlessly held out his hand. I managed to ease my way to standing, and he led me into the elevator. Held my hand for the entire ride up too, somehow managing to project pity and judgment at the same time.

I guessed that answered my question as to whether he knew about supes.

He knew, and he thought we were idiots. Well, he thought I was an idiot. And he was right. I mean, a sensible person would have stopped after falling down the stairs once. But it had taken five tries before I got the message.

As I thanked Mr. Grayson and hurried inside my apartment, I wondered briefly if Hunter was available for elevator therapy as well as personal training.

Hunter.

When I first met him, I’d thought he was an inflexible asshole, and I’d been pretty pissed that he’d been about to bail on our appointment. But it turned out he was okay. He just didn’t take shit from his clients.

He’d thought I was the asshole for keeping him waiting, and he wasn’t wrong. I could have called, but I hadn’t. So yeah, he had a valid reason for being pissed.

Hunter was hot—especially for a non-shifter. He’d come by all those glorious muscles of his through hard work, not supernatural intervention, and I had to respect that level of commitment. And he hadn’t judged me for my lack of coordination. My inability to be on time? He’d judged the hell out of me for that. But I could hardly blame him, not when he thought I’d blown him off.

But the thing I liked best about Hunter—apart from his messy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and insanely hot physique—was the way he took it for granted that he could fix me. That level of confidence made him the sexiest guy I’d met in a long time.

Sorry, Cal.

I spent the afternoon cleaning my apartment and taking a nap, and then I practiced my shift until I was confident I had it under control. Hunter had told me we’d be training at night so that if I wanted to shift I could. It made sense, and maybe getting more comfortable in my wolf form would help.

I rolled my shoulders, assessing how I felt after the great stair disaster from earlier, and was pleased to find that apart from a few aching muscles I hadn’t done any serious damage. If I’d been human, I probably would have been in the hospital. Mind you, if I’d been human, I wouldn’t have fallen down the stairs in the first place, so…

I showered and dressed, determined not to be late tonight. I did my best to ignore the twisting in my gut at the knowledge that I was going to have to get down the stairs somehow. I spent far too long tying my laces, but it got to where I couldn’t put off leaving any longer.

I walked out of the apartment, approaching the staircase reluctantly, and squeezed my eyes closed in an effort to fool my feet into behaving. After a few seconds, I opened them again, went to take a step, and⁠—

Froze.

Well, fuck.

I hadn’t thought it was possible, but I was getting worse. Now I was going to be late again, and I wasn’t sure Hunter would accept “there were stairs” as an excuse a second time.

The way things were going, I might as well just throw myself down them.

Wait.

What if I did? What if I just kind of… yeeted myself off the top step and let gravity do the rest?

This morning I’d proved that I could fall down the stairs without major damage. What if I did it deliberately? At least I’d get where I was going.

This was genius.

I stood there, heart pounding, and prepared to launch myself off the top step. But when I went to take a step, I found myself frozen to the spot once again.

Nope, my brain screamed. Nope nope nope.