The Shifter Romances The Writer

And there it was. He shifted his gaze back to the game. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of your mother?”

Scared was more like it. He kept his eyes on the television. “Did you come here to see me or meet your favorite author?”

“Alex, that is no way to speak to your mother. Of course I came here to see you, but it would be nice for your girlfriend to meet me, don’t you think?” She put her hands on her hips. “And I’m making all this food so—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Might as well nip this fantasy of hers in the bud. He took a long swallow of the beer. The cold brew slid down his throat but offered no relief to the ache inside him.

“What do you mean she’s not? Diego said—”

“Diego has no idea what’s going on. I told Roxy the truth about me, and she stopped talking to me. If you want someone to eat all that food, why don’t you call Diego and his new girlfriend, the barely legal waitress he shacked up with, and see if they’ll eat it? His address is on the sticky note on the fridge.” Alex put his beer on the side table and stood.

His mother backed up, but the gold fire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. Her beast was wound up. “Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.” He walked to his bedroom, closed the door and stripped down. A few moments later, he stood under the hot spray, letting the water beat on him and wishing he knew how to fix things between him and Roxy.

Or at least, how to make the pain of losing her go away.

Roxy wasn’t sure how many days had passed, but she knew it wasn’t enough to put a dent in the pain of betrayal and the awful humiliation she still felt. She couldn’t remember a time she’d hurt this much or felt this alone. Even marriage to Thomas hadn’t affected her this deeply. After all, she’d known before their first anniversary what a jerk he was. She’d expected the kind of treatment he gave her.

But from Delaney and Alex? She’d been blindsided. She wasn’t sure which one of them had surprised her the most. Delaney had a lot to answer for because she was the reason Roxy had moved here. And Alex…she shook her head. They’d just agreed to be completely honest with each other, then she’d tried to seduce him, and he still hadn’t said anything about Nocturne Falls being a haven for the paranormal or that he was a were-cat and Delaney was a vampire.

She paused on that thought. Was the paranormal real? Had they been telling her the truth? She was inclined to think they had been. Which was good, because it meant she wasn’t going crazy. But it also meant she had a lot to wrap her head around and she wasn’t even close to being there yet.

What she had fully arrived at was being a hot mess. She knew that. She sniffed and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. She’d been in the same pajamas for however long she’d been in the house. Hadn’t done a single sun salutation in days. Been living off whatever delivery this town had, which was mostly pizza, subs and Chinese. Fortunately, most of those things qualified as comfort foods. She’d even persuaded the pizza guy (with the promise of a big tip) to swing by the ice cream place and pick up a quart of Triple Chocolate Explosion, which was the most chocolaty ice cream they had, according to their website.

But what was worse than how she looked or the direction her diet had taken was that her book was also a mess. She’d tried to write, but every scene ended up going horribly off the rails as her feelings slipped through. Her tale of undying love between two soul mates had turned into a mish-mash of angry diatribes and bitter betrayal.

It would be career ending to turn something like that over to her readers, so she’d stopped trying. In fact, she was seriously thinking about postponing the book indefinitely. Or maybe writing something completely different. The only bright spot in the last few days had been that her divorce papers had finally arrived. Signed.

She was a free woman. Also miserable, friendless and woefully behind on her deadline, but free. Maybe Alex had helped that along by scaring Thomas into it, so she might owe him a little credit there. But not enough to answer his calls or texts.

Not yet.

She opened the fridge, not really hungry so much as looking for a way to distract herself. The pickings were slim. Some old house lo mein, a container of wonton soup, half an Italian cold cut and a box that held a couple slices of veggie pizza. Veggie. Because even miserable, she’d been thinking about her weight. A little.

“You are a sad, screwed-up woman, Roxy St. James.”

Too bad she hadn’t been thinking about her weight when she’d polished off the flan Alex had brought over, or the large box of truffles Delaney had left behind. Both of which she’d eaten in bed while watching old black-and-white movies.

Why hadn’t she been born in the age of old Hollywood? When times were simpler? She sighed and pulled out the box of pizza. She took out a slice, biting the point off the end. Heating it up took too much effort.

Her doorbell chimed. She had no idea what package this was, but she’d been ordering stuff online constantly in an attempt to never have to leave the house again. Hopefully, this delivery was the thirty-two pack of toilet paper, because that was going to become a necessity pretty soon, and running into Delaney or Alex at the Shop-n-Save wasn’t something she wanted to risk. They would want to talk—they’d both been trying repeatedly since she’d made them leave. But she wasn’t at the talking stage. And wasn’t sure she ever would be.