Isaac looks at the windshield. Then he looks at me. Back at the windshield.

He turns at his side, pulls back his arm and buries his elbow into the already broken glass, busting it out the rest of the way.

Seth and his girlfriend hop off the hood of the Jeep quickly and go back to fondling each other a few feet away.

I just stare at Isaac, my lips parted, my eyebrows wrinkled in my forehead while he clears all of the thick, jagged pieces away. Good thing windshield glass isn’t as thin and sharp as regular glass or else his arm would surely be covered in blood and cuts.

He opens the door for me, dusts the nugget-like pieces of glass out of my seat and gestures with his hand for me to get in. I just shake my head, barely containing the smile and hop inside.

“The restaurant isn’t far,” he says. “I’ll drive slow so you don’t get any bugs in your teeth.” He grins.

“Gee, thanks,” I say, smirking.

The Jeep’s engine comes to life after Isaac gets in and he lets his window down as Treven comes around to his side.

“So who’s it gonna’ be anyway?” Treven says, leaning over at level with the window.

Isaac shakes his head once. “We don’t know yet,” he says. “So far, looks like it’ll be Nathan.”

I know they’re talking about which of them will be Alpha.

Treven looks mildly surprised. “He’s not going back with your father?”

“No,” Isaac says looking at Nathan out ahead talking to Darren. “Things in our family have…changed.”

I ignore the fact that his comment held an underlying meaning; one that I know involves me in some way.

“Well, man,” Treven says, starting to lean away from the window, “not to be a dick, but you know you guys can’t leave this territory without an Alpha for too much longer. The next challenge probably won’t be from friends.”

A knot forms in my throat and I can’t swallow it down.

Isaac nods subtly, as if in thought, but agreeing with Treven. “I know.” His answer is distant.

Treven smiles in at me, but there’s something more determined in his eyes. “You watch your ass, babygirl,” he says and looks back at Isaac. “You ever need us we’ve got your back.”

“Thanks,” Isaac says.

We pull away and Isaac drives slowly down the long dusty road, but it doesn’t help as much as I’d like at keeping the dirt out of my face now that there is no windshield.

“You know,” I say, wrinkling my nose at him, “you’re kind of bloody to be going in a restaurant.”

Isaac glances down at himself.

“Shower?” he says, looking over.

I nod heavily with a teeth-baring grimace.

We stop at his house first and he showers and borrows one of his brother’s cars before we head to the restaurant.

5

I PICK AT MY food after the waiter brings it to our table. All I can think about now is coming down with the flu right before our summer trip to Portland. Well, I have a few days to get over whatever it is. It’s annoying how at one moment I feel the sickness creeping up on me, and then the next moment I feel perfectly fine. At least the lightheadedness isn’t coming and going with the general crappiness.

“I can’t believe you’re not going to eat that,” Isaac says across from me. He spears a huge piece of salmon on the end of his fork and somehow works it into his mouth. He’s a lot like Harry when it comes to food.

“Hey, I ate some of it.”

“Not enough,” he says, pointing at my plate with his fork. “Now eat.”

I lean away from the table and press my back against the booth seat. Isaac stops eating and absently places his fork into the mound of rice on his plate. He swallows and takes a swig of soda, wiping his mouth afterwards with the edge of his thumb.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, “how long have you been feeling like this?”

“Just since yesterday,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I kind of felt like this last year right before I got the flu—I do not want to go through that again.”

He goes back to eating, but keeps his attention fully on me.

“Maybe you should get a flu shot,” he says, taking a bite of rice.

“Absolutely not,” I object. “I don’t do shots.”

Isaac laughs.

“Alright, well then I can get Camilla to mix you one of her health drink concoctions—some of that stuff she makes can burn the bacteria right out of your blood.”

“Uhhh, no I think I’d rather take my chances with the fever.”

“Smart girl,” he says grinning, pointing his fork toward me again.

“Why does she make health drinks anyway?” I say. “Not like she’s going to die of any diseases or anything.”

“She’s the weird sister,” is all that he says with the shrug of his shoulders. “Well, in any case,” he goes on, “if you get sick, I’ll bring you soup and Ginger Ale and stuff.”

I can’t hide the blush in my face and absently I pick up my fork and poke around in my rice just to distract from it.

We’re situated next to a window that overlooks the parking lot. The sun shines fiercely, casting bright pools of light reflecting off car windows. The trees are green again and there are flowers near the entrance of the restaurant, though they had probably been planted recently by some landscaping service.

Business is beginning to pick up at the restaurant as the day wears on; mostly small families who, by the way they’re dressed, look like just came from church, or something.

Feeling guilty for wasting so much food that I didn’t pay for, I lift the fork barely into my mouth and eat a small bit of rice from the end of it.

Isaac reaches across the table and places his fingers on my wrist, slowly lowering my hand. I let go of the fork and just look at him.

“If you don’t feel like eating,” he says, “don’t worry about it.”

I sigh. “I just hate it that you—”

“No”, he interrupts, “that doesn’t matter to me and you know it—I thought we were past this already.”

Pulling my legs up onto the seat, I cross them comfortably under the table and place my folded hands into the hollow of my lap. I let out another deep breath and lean my head back against the seat.

Last month, while standing in the concession line at the movie theatre, Isaac had made it perfectly clear that I could ‘never again complain or feel guilty’ about him paying for anything. I remember staring up at the ridiculous prices of popcorn and soda, refusing to let him pay for all that stuff after he had spent so much money on me throughout the course of that week. Lunch and dinner here and there. Blended iced coffee—he was to blame for getting me hooked on those anyway. A new leather purse I had just vaguely mentioned that I liked when we were in the mall in Augusta.

After that, I’ve been careful not to mention my like of just about anything because I know he’ll go out of his way to get it for me.

“I know,” I finally say, “but it’s the way I am. Besides, I hate to waste food, regardless.”

The waiter strolls over. “Would you like refills?” He goes to reach for my half-empty glass, but I decline. Isaac nods to the waiter, indicating he will take him up on the offer. “And please bring the check too, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing,” the waiter replies while taking Isaac’s glass from the table.

I raise my index finger and say, “And a to-go box, please,” just before he leaves.

Isaac smirks and leans back in the seat, too.

“What?” I say with a weak trace of laughter in my voice. “I can’t save it for later?” I tilt my head to one side, waiting for him to give in.

Isaac shakes his head, surrendering.

“I take it you’re going to pay for the gas in my car on the way to Portland?” he says, looking at me in anticipation. “The convenience store stops? Oh, and the I Love Portland t-shirts?”

It started out as a joke, but somewhere between ‘convenience store’ and ‘Oh’ the jesting expression he wore failed under something more intolerant.

“Adria,” he says, “I would never want you to change who you are, but with me, you’re going to have to at least try to let that independent wall down a few notches.”

I blink, confused, and at first feel like I should be offended until he continues.

“Why don’t you let someone take care of you for once?” he says. “Besides, I can guarantee you won’t win this argument, so why fight it?”

He eats the last of his food and then moves the plate to the end of the table.

I change the topic. He’s right, after all.

“So,” I say pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes, “how many times have you gone off with your insane brothers to do stuff like that?”

I catch the smile in Isaac’s face as he glances downward at the table, but then he raises his hooded eyes to look at me.

“You mean since we’ve been together?”

I smirk at him, trying not to let him disarm me with that sexy grin playing provocatively on his lips.

“Yes, Isaac,” I say, “since we’ve been together.”

Damnit! I have absolutely no willpower when he does that! He lets the guileful smile heat up even more around his eyes. I have been disarmed.

“Isaac?” I say, crossing my arms and trying to gain some of my ground back.

“A few times,” he answers. “A couple of weeks ago while you were at school, a pack came up from Vermont—they were friends also—and before that, the famous Choi brothers, Hyun, Hyo and Ki.”

I look at him warily. “And were they friends?”

Isaac scowls. “Not so much,” he admits, “but we beat them and they respect us for it.”

Well, that was good to know, but he’s still not off the hook here.

“And before the snow melted,” he continues, “a pack came all the way from Washington.”

I get the feeling they weren’t friends either and that maybe this challenge didn’t end as smoothly. My eyes get narrower as I wait for him to tell me.

“Yeah, I could’ve done without that fight,” he says. “Remember when Nathan was out of commission for two days?”

“Yeah.”

Isaac shakes his head and lets out a deep breath. “He was messed up pretty bad; the Alpha broke his back.”

I wince.

“And he still didn’t lose?” I could hardly believe it.

“Nope,” he says. “Nathan has never lost a challenge.”

“What about you?”

“Technically, I’ve never officially been challenged—Nathan’s closer to Alpha than I am,” he says. “But I’ve never lost a fight.” He puts up a finger and backtracks. “No, I take that back. I did lose to Atma Sahni, though he fights dirty and most don’t acknowledge that he beat me.”

“But you do?”

“Yeah,” Isaac admits. “Atma’s a badass and I respect him. He may fight dirty, but I think you have to be able to counter anything, no matter how dirty.”