Loved by the Bear - Part 1 Read online

  Madison

  My new roommate, Josie, kicks the door shut behind her as she leaves to go shower. Thank god, because she smells worse than a boy's locker room. I frown as I wonder if the odd girl and I are really going to get along. She's got some serious baggage I can't quite figure out, and I like to think I'm pretty good at reading people. At first I thought she might have come from some rough inner-city neighborhood, but her accent is nondescript like an educated New Englander. And she apologized for teasing me too much, which makes me think at some point she learned manners. But she's definitely acting as if she needs me to believe she's tough.

  The knife she had… I shake my head when I think about how Josie threw it at me as if she was testing me. If I didn't have great reflexes it would have hit me. It for sure freaked me out. Who carries something like that? Maybe she thought she'd need it on the bus. My laptop chimes as I turn it on to check out the orientation schedule. There's an ice breaker scheduled for the transfer students. While I doubt Josie will want to go, I suppose I should ask her.

  I let out a sigh and get water from the fridge. It's hot, but at least there's a nice breeze coming through our window, and last night the temperatures dropped to make sleeping comfortable. Cold liquid soothes my throat as I drink, and the image of my mother standing in front of our open refrigerator door acting dramatic about the heat makes me smile before sadness sets in. My mother loved to laugh and could make any situation humorous. My throat tightens because I miss her so much. Before tears come, I take another sip of water to calm myself.

  My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer four years ago. And when she got really sick, I delayed my college education to care for her as well as spend as much time with her as I could. She died last spring, leaving me with just an ex-stepfather for family. And since he and my mother divorced when I was twelve and he never felt like I was his real daughter, he's faded out of my life. The sad reality is I'm alone.

  Mom never told me who my real father was and said it was a relationship that was never meant to be. It never mattered much to me until she was gone. So when I found her shoebox full of love letters from a guy she was dating around the time she got pregnant with me, I got curious. I looked up the name and found that the man who I think is my biological father is still living in Orono. Since my mother and this man had gone to school here at the University of Maine, I decided it was the perfect place for me to resume my education.

  Only now that I'm here, I fear I may have come all this way for nothing. There is definitely the possibility the guy isn't my father, or worse, that he wants nothing to do with me. I don't even know if he's aware I exist, and I imagine a surprise child from a relationship he had twenty-three years ago might not be welcome.

  I walk over to my mirror to redo my ponytail and notice my mascara has smudged under my eyes from sweating. The floral scent of my makeup remover wafts toward me as I open the bottle to dab some on a cotton ball. Part of me thinks I should respect the fact that whenever I asked about my biological father my mother would tell me that it was a secret best kept. I always got the impression he wasn't a good guy, but if he's the man I found on the internet, that's not true. He works on a tree farm and won some humanitarian award for his volunteerism.

  As I rub make up off my face the door opens, and Josie enters wrapped in her towel. "Man," she says, "does a shower feel good. I was afraid things were rotting, you know?"

  I grimace at the colorful vision she presented. "I do. I went camping once and didn't shower for five days. It was super gross." My mirror is in the back of my closet nook and directly across from Josie's. She drops her towel and lifts an arm to apply deodorant, giving me a view of a well-defined arm and the rippling muscles in her back. She's got the most fit body I've ever seen on a woman in real life. I gape in shock before I avert my eyes, and now I wonder if maybe she really is an assassin. I grin at my crazy imagination because there's probably a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  My mascara clatters in its slot in my makeup holder before I walk over to my desk. Since Josie seems to be trying, I say, "There's a transfer-student orientation thing at eleven that I'm going to. Want to come?"

  "I probably should if I want to make friends." She lets out a sigh and turns to me in just her bra and panties. "I'm not sure if you can tell, but I don't have the best people skills."

  "Sure you do," I say in a sarcastic tone as jealousy for her amazing body burns in me. "If we were in prison." Guilt takes over when I see the flicker of hurt in Josie's eyes. "Oh jeez. That was supposed to be a joke, not an insult."

  "It’s cool," she says in an icy tone. "We're from two different worlds. I get it."

  "No. It's not cool, Josie. I'm sorry. It's just you—" I realize no matter what I say I'm only going to dig my hole deeper. "I apologize."

  "Seriously. It's okay. I made fun of you earlier based on where I think you came from, so it's only fair you do the same."

  My heart stops for a second. "You didn't really come from—"

  Josie busts out in laughter. "No way. I'm just busting your chops."

  I blow out a breath in relief and decide I should get to know more about Josie's background so I don't put my foot in my mouth again. "How did you get in such incredible shape? I have to tell you, I'd kill for that body."

  "Careful." She glances down at her abs as she buttons her shorts and then back at me to grin. "You might have to."

  "What?"

  Josie laughs again. "You are so damn easy, Madison. I worked at a fat camp last summer." She lifts her arm to flex a bicep. "Working out eight hours a day got me this, but it'll only take a couple months of pizza and beer for me to lose it all. You'll see."

  "Huh." I look down at my round belly and rub it with a hand. "Maybe you can get me a job there next summer. I could certainly use it."

  "Stop." Josie steps closer and looks intently into my eyes. "You're so much sexier the way you are. Trust me, any guy would choose you over me in a heartbeat."

  Her kindness warms my heart. "Now you're the one who should be careful. That was a really sweet thing to say to me, and if word gets out it's going to ruin your badass reputation."

  She yanks a tank top over her head. "That might not be a bad thing." She gazes at me with what might be sadness in her eyes, and it surprises me. "I'd like to fit in here, Madison. I'm craving normal. Studying, partying on the weekends, boyfriends…"

  I'm dying to ask what has been abnormal about her life, but I'm not going to pry with a girl like Josie. I think she'll tell me when she's ready. "Then you've got the right roommate. I'm boringly normal."

  Josie leans into her mirror to apply eyeliner. "I don't believe that. We've all got a story, Madison." She turns to look at me, and I'm taken by how her simple makeup complements her chiseled face. "You can tell me tonight over wine. Sound good?"

  I smile as I grab my ID lanyard and slip it over my head. "Sure. But you've got to tell me yours too. Deal?"

  "Deal," Josie pulls the door open for us. "But then you're going to find out I'm the boring one."

  Somehow I doubt that's true, and that's okay. Because I have a feeling having someone like Josie in my corner could be a very good thing.

  8

  Josie

  My feet stick to the floor as I sidestep a small puddle and head for the keg. The air is heavy with the moisture of collective sweat, and loud music mixes with shouts of people trying to be heard. Ah, frat parties. How I have missed thee. I chuckle to myself before I smile sweetly at the guy who hands me a clear plastic cup of keg beer. "Thanks." He's too thin to be a werebear, so I pretend I don't notice the way he's leaning in to talk and move to wander around the party instead. I hear Madison giggling and look over to see she's holding court with three large guys. Werebear large. Bingo.

  I glance around and find a tiny girl holding a full cup of beer. I reach out and grab it from her as I walk by and ignore her indignant cry as I approach Madison. I really did luck out with her as a roommate, because it didn't take Madison long to find what I'm looking for. "Here," I say as I hold the cup out to my roommate. "Figured you could use one."

  She smiles at me as if I'm her best friend. We're getting there considering we preloaded with the beer and wine in our room before leaving, and she told me about losing her virginity. "Thanks." Madison sweeps out her hand. "Josie, this is Tod, Dylan and Matt. They're all seniors."

  "Hey," I say as I make eye contact with them. I rule out Tod quickly as a trust funder who's looking for a sweet girl, based on his polo shirt and short haircut. Dylan barely notices me before his attention goes back to Madison. But Matt has possibility. He thinks he's being stealthy by dipping his head to make his bangs fall over his eyes as he checks me out, but I’m totally onto him. He's wearing black skinny jeans with beat up converse and a heavy metal rock band T-shirt.

  "So," I yell. "How's the music scene around here?"

  Tod frowns in confusion while Dylan practically drools over Madison. Matt answers, "Lame unless you're into garage bands."

  I nod and notice the callouses on Matt's fingers that make me think he plays guitar. "Garage bands are underrated. I've heard a few good ones."

  "Yeah?" Matt smiles at me and starts talking about a local band he loves. I smile back and nod as I pretend to listen, but I have no interest in what he's saying. I've been here two days, and as much as I'd like to complete my mission, I'm not willing to jump on the first werebear who finds me attractive. Still, there’s no need to burn any bridges just yet, so when I can't take any more, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

  I push my way into a bathroom that has the odor of air freshener and piss. I lean into the mirror to check out how my eyeliner looks and notice it's smudged like I'm a goth girl. It kinds of suits me, so I leave it and decide to use the toilet. The stall’s lock clatters into place before I squat, taking care not to touch the seat.

  It occurs to me that the plan to have a serious enough relationship with a werebear to make him bite me, turn me, and welcome me into his clan sounded good in theory. But now that I'm in the midst of trying to make it happen, I'm not so sure. How am I supposed to fake being in love 24/7? I can barely get through a boring monologue about the value of paying your dues playing at parties for a case of cheap beer.

  When I exit my stall to wash my hands, a cute girl says to me, "I love your shirt." She reaches out with her hand, and I latch on to her wrist with a death grip before she manages to touch my bare stomach that’s on display thanks to the cropped top Madison insisted I borrow. "Ouch!"

  I release her quickly when I realize I’m being too harsh. "Sorry. Reflexes."

  The girl rubs her wrist as she looks at me with watery eyes. "I was going to compliment you on being so fit."

  "Thanks, but you shouldn't touch people without being invited, ya know?"

  She glares at me now as if I was the one in the wrong. "Got it."

  As I leave the bathroom I hear her mutter, "Bitch," and I'm tempted to show her how much of a bitch I really am. But then I take a deep breath to calm myself. I have to remember I'm in the world of the naive, like I was before I went to jail. My back thuds against the wall as I lean on it and look out at the crowd without seeing. Since I can hardly remember who I was before I was arrested, I decide I need to use Madison as my guide. I replay the bathroom scene in my head and imagine what she'd have done. My roommate would have giggled as if the girl tickled her and then blushed at the compliment. I practice a giggle. It comes out like a goose being strangled, and it makes me genuinely laugh.

  A deep voice cuts in. "Drunk dancing never gets old."

  I turn to the guy and have to crane my neck to see his face. Considering I'm almost six feet tall, that's saying something. Blue eyes twinkle with his amusement, either at the dancing or the fact his size surprised me. "And you could—" I stop my wiseass reply when it occurs to me I'm supposed to be doing what Madison would do. I plaster on what I hope is a flirty smile as I sweeten my voice. "Are your moves better?"

  The guy grabs my hand and walks backward, tugging me along as he says, "Come find out."

  I lick my lips while scanning his body with my gaze. Hopefully he thinks I'm sizing him up for some bedroom gymnastics instead of assessing the best way to incapacitate him if necessary. He grins at me as he begins to sway his hips. I recall the way Lana would dance around her salon, and I channel her as I smile back at the guy. He may not be an amazing dancer, but he does know how to move to the beat, and it's hard not to notice how strong his arms are. I dance in a little closer, and he responds by grabbing my hips and pulling me tight against his body—a rock-hard body that matches mine.

  I press my small but fleshy breasts against his chest, and he lets out a low growl that takes sexy to a new level. I gaze up into his chiseled face, framed by a wild mane of pale blond hair that makes me think he descended from Vikings, and I turn on my inner-Madison as I slide my hand over his pecs. "You're so strong."

  He squeezes my butt. "You are too. Athlete?"

  I nod. "I'm Josie."

  "Axe."

  I raise my eyebrows as I stifle laughter. "Really?"

  He laughs. "Most people don't dare to make fun of my name. It's really Aksel but everyone calls me Axe."

  "Oh." This guy isn't as dumb as he looks. I move my arms up to drape them over his shoulders as we sway together. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

  "It's okay. It’s kind of a stupid nickname."

  I like a guy who doesn't take himself too seriously. "I don't know. I think it kind of suits you."

  "Josie," he says slowly, as if he's trying my name on for size. "Why haven't I seen you before? You can't be a freshman, and I'd remember a girl like you."

  "How did you know I wasn't a freshman?"

  "Too confident." He chuckles as he tilts his head toward a group of drunk girls screaming out words to the song that’s playing. "And too sober."

  I smile. "I'm a transfer. Junior."

  "What's your sport?"

  "Dancing. Can't you tell?"

  "You're funny. I like that."

  "No sports for me now,” I say. “I'm officially retired." While I'll still work out, it's likely that with schoolwork and time spent searching for a werebear mate, it'll be hard to maintain my current level of fitness. In a suggestive tone, I ask, "What's your sport?"

  "Dancing." Axe grabs my hips and lifts me up in the air, and I stiffen for a moment before I force myself to relax. "And sweeping girls named Josie off their feet."

  I groan as he lowers me to my feet by sliding me down his body, and likely making sure I can feel the hardness of more than his torso. "That was really bad. Does it ever work?"

  "Not sure yet. Want to get out of here?"

  This is where things get tricky. If I sleep with a guy too soon, they'll think it was about sex, and I'll blow my chance at a relationship. So even though the idea of being with Axe is appealing, I have to play my cards right. "I won't leave without my roommate, and I'm sure she's not ready to go, but let's go on the porch where we can talk."

  "Sure."

  After we slither through the crowd of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, we walk outside to the porch. I see the glowing red end of a joint as we move past a group of people, and we stop when we get to an open area. The heat wave broke this morning, and the night air is comfortably cool on my damp skin. "It feels good to be out here," I say as I lean back against the railing.

  Axe places himself across from me and drags a finger down the side of my arm, making me shiver. "Where did you come from, Josie?"

  I think about my life before the Eradicators stepped in and try to recall the fresh-faced college girl I was back then as I pull out my scripted back story. The one that doesn’t include my mother dying and the pity that would garner. "Connecticut. My parents got divorced my sophomore year, and my tuition fund disappeared in the mess. I moved to Portland with my mom and took a year off to work and gain residency so I could afford school here."

  "Smart." Axe is moving his finger slowly across my collar bone, and I think this guy knows what he's doing when I begin to crave his touch in lower places. "How do you like it so far?" he asks.

  I shrug and place my hand lightly on his forearm with a sudden interest in tracing the lines of his muscles. "It's only been two days. Ask me how I feel once I've started a few classes." Axe threads his fingers through my hair to cradle the back of my head and begins to massage my scalp. I practically melt at his touch and grip his arm for support as I ask, "What about you? What's your major?"

  He leans in close and grins, flashing a toothy smile. "Chemistry," he says softly before he places his mouth on mine. It's been a while since I was with a man, and that might be the reason why kissing Axe is sending shock waves of pleasure through my body, making me want so much more. Chemistry. It just might be, and that means I’ve found my mark.

  9

  Madison

  The last thing I expected to find when I walked out onto the porch of the frat house was Josie making out with a super-hot guy. A surge of jealousy spikes in me for a moment, which seems to be a thing for me where she’s concerned. But with her rough ways and tomboy body, she's so not the kind of girl guys are into, although, apparently she found one who is. I'm ready to go back to the dorm and came to find her, but I keep a respectable distance to wait until she's able to speak.

  I gaze up at the stars which are so much clearer here than at home, and I imagine my mother looking down on me. My heart aches wishing I could talk to her again as the chest-tightening feeling of loneliness sets in. I look over at Josie and realize my jealousy isn't so much that she found a guy; it's that I wish someone was holding me too. The thing is I could have easily been kissing Dylan, but I need more than some guy who's physically attracted to me. It was clear Dylan had one thing in mind, and it wasn't getting to know much more about me than what I'd feel like naked underneath him. I want more. I deserve more.