My arms cross over my chest. "I'll never eat all that."

"Maybe it's for me. Not all of us subsist on caffeine and chocolate alone."

"You planning on bringing it back to your place?" I ask.

"No, but I am planning to spend a lot of time at your place, now that we'll be having sex every night."

"You're delusional." I snort. "And you also need a carriage. The handles on that thing are about to snap."

He scoffs. "Men don't push carriages. It's against the laws of nature."

"So you'd rather walk around giving yourself carpal tunnel from carrying all that?"

"Absolutely."

"You're an idiot."

"Aww, snookums, what have I told you about being so sweet to me in public?" He makes eye contact with the woman shopping for applesauce ten feet down the aisle and winks suggestively at her. "You should hear her in the bedroom." He gestures at me. "Total drill sergeant, this one."

The woman glances at me with wide eyes, then turns her back and quickly walks away. She doesn't even take her applesauce.

"I hate you," I hiss, fighting off a blush as I whirl to face Parker - who, I might add, is grinning like he's just won the lottery.

"Come on." He laughs. "Grab your peanut butter cups. I'll meet you up front."

There's really nothing to do but roll my eyes as he pivots on one heel and strides to the front of the store, somehow looking handsome and put together after very little sleep, while wearing his raunchy holiday sweater from yesterday. I follow at a slower pace, stopping to grab a six-pack of diet soda and a jumbo bag of Reese's on my way. When I reach the front, I make sure to get into a different checkout line so Parker can't pull any macho crap by attempting to pay for my groceries.

There's an old lady in front of me, struggling with the credit card reader. The conveyer-belt is practically empty, except for some cans of soup, a box of crackers, and a few rolls of toilet paper.

"Ma'am, as I told you, starting last week we only accept cash or chip-enabled credit cards." The cashier crosses her arms over her chest impatiently. "You can't use that card here."

"Chip-enabled?" the white-haired woman asks. "I don't know what that is."

The cashier sighs. "Call your card company. They'll send you one."

"But I need these groceries today. Even if they send a new card, it'll take at least a week to get here." The woman's voice trembles a bit. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Come back with cash."

"All- all right." The woman is visibly distressed. "I suppose I'll have to do that."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I have a line." The cashier looks pointedly at me and the three other people waiting. "So, I'm going to need you to-"

"Here," I say without thinking, reaching into my wallet and pulling out a twenty. "How much are her groceries? I'll pay for them."

"It's $17.50," the cashier tells me.

"Perfect." I pull out another twenty. "Just throw it all in with mine, I'll pay for it together."

"Oh, no," the elderly woman protests quietly, grabbing my arm. "I couldn't possibly-"

"It's already done." I pass over the money and smile at her.

"Thank you," she whispers, clearly embarrassed. "I usually have cash with me, but I was in a hurry this morning and-"

"Don't worry about it." I shrug and toss my stuff in a clear plastic bag. "The new chip technology is a big pain in the ass, if you ask me. But if you call the number on the back of your card, they'll send you an updated one."

She smiles and takes her bag from the cashier. "I'll do that when I get home. Can I at least pay you back?"

I shake my head. "Absolutely not."

Her hands curl around the bag handles. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Then don't." I smile at her as she nods, turns, and walks out of the store.

I'm still smiling as I shove my change into my purse. When I go to grab my bag, I find Parker's already got it looped around his arm alongside his own groceries. He's waiting right at the end of the checkout line, watching me carefully.

"What?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Why are you giving me that look, playboy?"

"No reason," he murmurs, suppressing whatever emotion I just saw in his eyes. "Come on, Zoe. Let's make like a tree."

"And leaf?" I snort and hold open the door for him - his arms are full of groceries. "I didn't realize you were in fourth grade."

"What do you have against a good pun?"

"Besides the fact that they're the lowest form of humor?"

"Baby, I'm the pun master. I've got puns for days."

"How nice for you."

We walk in silence for a half block. That's as long as he can contain himself.

"You know, sometimes when I get naked in the bathroom, the shower gets turned on."

I sigh. "Stop."

"I couldn't remember how to use a boomerang, but don't worry, it came back to me."

"You're getting less attractive by the second."

"My grade in Marine Biology was below C level."

"That, I can believe. You're not the brightest bulb."

"Two peanuts were walking in a rough area. One was a salted."

"That's it! I'm never sleeping with you again."

"Fine. I'm done." His voice is strangled, like he's trying desperately to hold in a laugh.

Glancing over, I see his lips are clamped together to hide his smile.

"Oh, just say it," I grumble. "I'm worried your brain will explode if you hold it in any longer."

He laughs. "Never trust atoms. They make up everything."

I roll my eyes. "It's a good thing you're hot. Otherwise, you'd have no redeeming qualities."

"If I wasn't weighted down by so many groceries right now, I'd probably kiss you."

"If you weren't such a pain in the ass, I'd definitely let you."

"Just for that, I'm not making you a kale smoothie when we get to your place."

"Considering I don't have a blender, you're not making anyone a kale smoothie."

"God, it's like dating a heathen."

"Except, we aren't dating."

He shakes his head in faux disgust. "Diet of pure sugar, no working heat, doors that don't lock... I know how Jane felt when she met Tarzan. Except, obviously, I look much more dashing in a petticoat than Jane."

I raise my brows. "Not even going to touch that one."

"You said you love kids' movies. Figured you'd appreciate the reference."

We're almost back at my building. "Yeah, well, Tarzan was never my favorite. I was all about Beauty and the Beast."

"Let me guess." His brows waggle. "You wanted a beast to call your own?"

"Um, no." I punch in the code to the outer door and follow him inside. "I wanted the cool-as-shit castle with the talking furniture, huge library, and enchanted closets. Obviously."

"Ah." He grins at me as we wait for the elevator to return, clanging and groaning as it descends down the shaft. "Phoebe loved that one, too. She made me watch it a thousand times with her when she was seven. And then they made the damn Christmas-themed sequel, which wasn't nearly as good."

I bite my lip to keep in a laugh.

Playboy billionaire Parker West is discussing Disney movies with me.

It takes a moment for that to sink in.

Parker sighs. "The snow, all the decorations on the damn castle... I think that's why she's so obsessed with Christmas, to be honest. I place one hundred percent of the blame on Disney."

I slide up the wooden lift gate and wait for the heavy metal doors to edge open. "Good to know."

"Speaking of Christmas, you never answered my question."

"Hmm?" I follow him into the elevator and slide my key into the panel. The car jolts into motion.

"Earlier, in the store, I asked what you're doing tomorrow."

I stare hard at the illuminated buttons on the panel. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes." He pauses. "Christmas Eve. Prequel to the most widely-celebrated holiday in our nation. Maybe you've heard of it."

"Ah." I swallow and keep my eyes averted. When the doors slide open, I step into the loft and practically run to the kitchen. "So, yeah, you can put those anywhere. I suppose I'll have to make room in my fridge for your healthy crap - that moldy banana is taking up so much space-"

"Zoe."

Damn. He's using his quiet voice. That gentle, cajoling one that makes me shiver and sigh at the same time.

I look over at him. He's dropped the grocery bags on the counter and is staring at me with questions swimming in his eyes.

"You want to tell me about it, or you wanna keep pretending it's not an issue until it breaks you down?" He steps toward me, eyes wide with trust. "Your call, darling. But you should know, whenever that happens - you falling apart - whether it's right now or tomorrow or next week or next year... if you'll let me, I'll be here to pick up the pieces."

And just like that, for the first time in years, staring at this man who never pushes or pries, this man who's just there for me even when I don't deserve it... maybe especially when I don't deserve it... I feel the damn floodgates crack wide open and tears spill down my cheeks in a relentless torrent of bottled-up despair.

14.

The Lone Wolf

Once I start crying, I can't seem to stop.

I weep and weep and weep until my throat is burning and my lungs are aching, until there isn't a single ounce of moisture left behind my stinging eyes. I weep for all the years I never allowed myself to, for all the days when I didn't have the luxury of falling apart. Because you can't cry when you're sleeping on a cot in a church basement surrounded by strangers. You can't let it show how much it hurts when your foster mother turns a blind eye to her husband's wandering hands. You can't be meek or weak when there's a whole world of wolves out there, circling in the darkness, picking off the sheep one by one.

You do the only thing you can do: You become a wolf, too.

A wild thing.

It's better to have battle scars and sharp edges than wind up dinner on a predator's table.

But in this moment, I don't want to have claws or teeth. I don't want to lash out.

Inexplicably, I want strong arms around me.

I want lips on my hair, murmuring reassurances.