Happy with the cheesy goodness that loaded my plate, I headed back to the table.  When I sat down again, I picked up my fork and licked the salad dressing from it.

A storm of desire hit me so hard I dropped my fork.  Metal clattered against china, and just that fast the desire disappeared.  It didn’t fade; it vanished completely.

I looked up from my plate and found everyone watching me.

Where had that come from?  I glanced at Clay.  He didn’t look the least bit guilty, and I felt his curiosity when he found himself under scrutiny.

Beside me, Carlos slightly shifted in his chair.

“You okay, Z?” Ethan said softly.

“Yeah.  Fine.”

I refused to look at Carlos.  It couldn’t have been him.  I picked up my fork and carved out a bite of my pizza as if nothing was wrong.  But I had a feeling there was a lot wrong.  And most of the wrongness sat to my left, quietly eating his food.

Gradually, everyone started to eat again and conversation resumed.  I remained physically focused on my pizza while my thoughts drifted.

Why was Carlos so detached?  It took Ethan years to hold back his emotions, and he only just recently discovered how to close himself off.  However, even closing himself off didn’t completely save him from me when I pulled.  Yet, when I’d pulled, Carlos hadn’t seemed affected at all.  If things went south and this group turned on Ethan and me, Carlos’ ability to block me could very well screw any chance of escape.

Yet, with all the leaking emotions around me, I didn’t feel one bit of dishonesty or disloyalty.  Instead, there was a ton of happiness and gratification.  I lifted my eyes from my food and traced the source to Jim as he sat with another plate piled with pizza.  A glance at the buffet table showed the decimated remains of three pizzas.  Geez, had he been eating while putting more on his plate?  He lifted a piece and consumed the triangle in four bites.  The piece wasn’t small.

Jim caught me watching him, grinned, and lifted the next piece in a salute before eating that one, too.

“How long do you give the manager before he comes out and asks us to leave?” Ethan said, following my gaze.

“I think Jim intends to find out.”

Jim winked at me.

The rest of the men ate just as heartily but were more discreet about it.  Since the women, except for Winifred, didn’t seem to have the same aggressive appetites, I guessed it was a werewolf thing.  I went back to my pizza.

By the time I finished what I had on my plate, I was full of pizza and emotions.  Though Jim broadcasted his satisfaction of his gluttony the loudest, Gabby’s emotions drew my attention.  Something was bothering her, but never to the degree that she stopped eating or spoke up about it.

A waiter came with the bill, even though the guys were still eating, and asked if we would care to order any dessert.

“Is it all-you-can-eat?” Jim asked.

Charlene shot him a warning look.

“No, sir,” the waiter answered.

Jim shook his head and went back to his pizza.

“I think we’ve eaten our fill,” Thomas said, as soon as the waiter walked away.  However, I caught his gaze straying to the buffet table as he ate his last piece.

Emmitt went to pay, and the group began to stand.  I felt a burst of amusement and looked up in time to see Emmitt swipe two slices of pizza on his way back past the buffet.  He discreetly passed a slice to his brother, Jim, as we walked to the door.  The amusement had come from Grey.

If I hadn’t felt so tight with overload, I would have been amused too.

*    *    *    *

The first mile on the treadmill took the edge off; the fifth mile saw the immediate tension drained.  I was used to running after eating.  When I’d had a job, I had often gone to the gym over my lunch break, just to make it through the day.  That midday relief hadn’t always been enough to keep me from wanting to punch someone in the face, though.  But hopefully, this run would be enough to get me through the night.

I slowed the treadmill to a walk and reached for the towel I’d draped on the handle.

“Want to spar?”

Carlos’ voice made me yip and miss a step.  I stumbled backward and shot off the end of the treadmill.  Thick, bare arms wrapped around me, catching me before I hit the ground.  A tingle of awareness zipped through me.

I quickly straightened away, and he let me go.

“Thanks, but I’m good for now,” I said as I hid my blushing face by wiping it with the towel.  Other girls reacted to boys.  I didn’t.  What the heck was wrong with me?

“Z, you need twenty minutes.  Running’s not enough.”

I pulled my face from the towel and caught Ethan leaning in the doorway of the exercise room.  He arched a brow at me when I scowled at him.

“I’m drained.”

He grinned at me.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be scowling at me.”

Damn him, he was right.

“Fine.  Whatever.”

I tossed the towel aside and faced Carlos.  He wore the clothes I’d bought for him.  The sleeveless t-shirt stretched across his broad, muscled chest.  The material clung to his chiseled abs, too.  His shorts encased his massive thighs.  I swallowed and met his eyes.

“You make it look like I shopped in the junior’s section.”

He didn’t react one way or another, but Ethan chuckled.

“I’ll be in the room watching Bonanza.  There’s a marathon.”

He turned and left, and I shook my head at the empty doorway.  Ethan’s taste in TV was weird.  A person would never guess his love of Westerns by the way he spoke or dressed.

A brush along my spine had me spinning; but Carlos was a distance away, watching me.

“Kicking,” I said.  It seemed a good idea to keep him at a distance.

He nodded.

We settled into a rhythm, and once he had my pattern, I picked up speed.  I loved sparring against these werewolf guys.  I could go as fast as I wanted, and they met each move.  And I didn’t seem to hurt them like I could Ethan.

Fingers stoked my ankle as Carlos deflected a kick.  The lingering tingle returned my focus to the sparring.  I bounced back a step and eyed him.  Was he playing with me again?

He waved me forward.  I balanced and kicked twice, turned, and jabbed at his right shoulder.  The unexpected combination caught him off guard, and I connected with him.  He flashed me a quick smile.  It was like lightening, there and gone again.

After that, I kept things random.  He never attacked me, only blocked.  But whenever I left an opening, he would let me know with a soft, trailing touch.  When I focused on kicks, I usually felt his hands on my legs.  When it was my fists, he left the skin on my face and neck prickling.

Fifteen minutes later, I stopped.  My chest heaved and sweat soaked my back.  I could feel a trickle trailing down my lower spine.  I’d depleted everything and dodging his roaming touch was now impossible.

“I’m done,” I said, bracing my hands on my knees.

“Five more minutes.”

Something in his tone stopped my panting breaths.  My lungs screamed for oxygen as I looked up and met his focused gaze.  He stood before me, balanced on the balls of his feet as if ready to spring.  His hands shook.  No, his whole body shook. Did that shaking mean he wanted to go full wolf?  Right now?  I’d seen him like that twice before and didn’t want to see it again.

I forced myself to inhale slowly and keep still.

“For you or for me?”

He closed his eyes as if struggling for control.  He’d never seemed to struggle before.  That he did now worried me.  I knew how fast he could move.  Could I make it to the door?  I shifted my weight to my right foot, ready to turn and find out, but his eyes popped back open.  I stopped moving again.

“Five more minutes.”

Dude was like a broken record.  I would have laughed if not for the shaking.  Where was that old guy when I needed him?