Wolf

That Saturday, Christa was putting the last of her pitiful belongings into a cardboard box. The pile she had stacked by the door was unimpressive-only two boxes tall by three boxes wide and deep composed mostly of clothes and mementos that she couldn’t sell.
Seeing how little she had in the world brought tears to her eyes. But she quickly banished them. She was alive and healthy and she had a great new job. That was all that mattered. Satisfied with her pep talk, she picked up the first box to move to her new apartment right as the doorbell rang. She frowned.
She opened the door to find Wolffe and Benoit on the other side. She suddenly remembered her boss’ offer of help.
“I completely forgot you were coming,” she said without thinking. “Not that I wasn’t thinking about you-I mean I wasn’t-I mean-” Christa stopped before she stuck her foot any further into her own mouth. There was no denying that Wolffe Reese was attractive and there was something about him that called to Christa. But he was her boss and therefore, off limits.
Wolffe cracked a smile, amused at the fact that he could shake her. Women in his world were unshakeable. He liked Christa’s world better. He stopped those thoughts in their tracks and his expression fell just slightly.
Benoit sensed both of the humans’ moods and saw he had two options: he could go against both their wishes and push them together, or distract one of them and keep them apart. Or, he thought as he sat on his haunches, he could do nothing and let fate sort itself out.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Christa said for what felt like the tenth time as they followed the moving truck to Christa’s new apartment in the better part of the town. It wasn’t upscale by any means, but Christa would at least feel safe on her balcony-her very own balcony!-at night.
“I told you it was a welcome to the company,” Wolffe reminded her from the passenger seat.
“But to rent a moving truck?”
“I hardly expected to try and move things in this matchbox,” Wolffe said with a chuckle. “With Benoit riding along it would have taken us all weekend, even with your few belongings.”
Inside the large truck, her things had looked even more miniscule. Wolffe felt sorry for her, having so little to call her own. But she didn’t seem worried about it, so he was not going to sulk for her.
“Do you take him everywhere with you?” she asked.
Wolffe was confused for a moment. “Whom?”
“Benoit…” Christa said like it was obvious.
“For the most part, yes. He doesn’t much like being left alone for long periods of time, not that he enjoys my company any better.”
“He must just miss you when you’re gone all day.”
Wolffe couldn’t hold in a snort.
“Pets love their masters,” Christa argued.
“I’m not entirely sure he’s gripped the concept that I am his master.”
“Where did you get him anyway?”
Wolffe thought carefully. “Fate.”
Christa glanced over at him. There was a seriousness to his expression that she’d only seen when he was dealing with grave matters. Funny how well she’d come to know his expressions after only a few days.
Look out!
Christa’s head turned back to the road just in time for her to slam on the brakes before ramming into the moving truck that had stopped at a red light. She whipped her head back to Wolffe.
“Did you hear that?” she demanded.
“Hear what?” Wolffe asked carefully. Yes he’d heard Benoit’s thoughts shout from the back seat. Sometimes the thoughts that were projected from one’s mind were so urgent that they didn’t just go to a specific person, but everyone in the area. Benoit had slipped, but if he hadn’t, Christa would be dead.
Christa faced him fully. He was looking at her like she was slightly crazed. Maybe she was. “Nothing,” she said quickly. It was probably just her subconscious reminding her to keep her eyes on the road. She turned back as the light turned green and the truck moved forward.
Wolffe didn’t look at Benoit, but the wolf got the message all the same. He didn’t slip up, never had he come closer to revealing that he was a man trapped inside a wolf’s body. Mainly because he didn’t care enough to try to save someone. He laid down on the back seat, suddenly not sure he liked the closeness he felt towards Christa. Not like he’d felt towards past women in his life: the lust, the passion, or the one time he had felt love. More of a…protectiveness over her. Until now he hadn’t seen a problem with it. But he couldn’t forget the last time someone had discovered what he and Wolffe were, and although he blew it off, he knew in this day and age people wouldn’t just run them out of a dinky village: they would be hunted down and killed if not tortured first. So he had to watch his feelings, because he couldn’t trust anyone, not even Christa.

“I can’t believe how big it is.”
It was the third time Christa had uttered those words as she walked around the two-bedroom apartment. It had new furnishings that she kept touching reverently. Wolffe watched on with part amusement and part of the pity that he couldn’t shake. The appliances hadn’t been a big deal to him: they were a model older than the ones he had in his apartment. And if she thought this was big she should see his place…he frowned. He didn’t bring anyone to his apartment; that was his space. Most of his acquaintances didn’t even know where he lived.
“You’ll get used to it I’m sure,” he broke in to dispel the emotions he was beginning to feel. It took him a moment to realize what the feeling was-guilt-guilt that he had so much and she had had so little. He frowned slightly at that. He shouldn’t be feeling that. He had worked his ass off to get where he was. He stopped his thought again. There was no reason to go down that road again. “So where do we start?”
“Oh I’m fine, thanks. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than help me unpack,” Christa said politely.
“It’s no trouble,” Wolffe assured. “And the moving truck was my ride back to my car. They left ten minutes ago.”
“Oh I didn’t even get to thank them.”
“They don’t need thanks; they were hired to help you move.”
Christa hesitated a moment. Her boss was like a light switch with his moods. “Well I still would have liked to thank them.”
Wolffe didn’t know how to respond. It was a disturbing feeling, not knowing how to act in front of someone. Being what he was, he had to have his thoughts and actions carefully planned but around this girl, it was impossible.
“But you really don’t have to help me unpack. It’s mostly clothes and little stuff anyway.”
“If you don’t want my help you could just say it,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended.
“N-no I j-just don’t want to be a burden.”
“You aren’t a burden.” Wolffe’s mouth opened before he could sensor the words.
Christa just stared at him. His expression said the exact opposite of his words. He looked almost angry. She felt her own anger flicker. Who did he think he was? All she said was he didn’t have to help and he goes getting all defensive. She scowled. “Well if you want to help so bad, the green bins have my nick-knacks in them, you can set them on the coffee table.” With that she picked up two of the boxes that contained clothes and marched into the bedroom. Right as she shut the door she heard Wolffe laugh. Maybe the man was bipolar.
“Well, well, the little mademoiselle has a temper,” Wolffe muttered with a smile. Talk about unpredictable.