Love and the White Wolf - Book 1

4. Beginnings

       I slept a dreamless sleep thanks to the painkillers.  My headache was surprisingly gone on awakening and I felt refreshed.  I could hear sounds from the great room so I carefully made my way to the bathroom, showered and changed into clean clothes.

James was in the corner of the great room running on a treadmill, shirtless. Damn, the man was perfect. The term "eye candy" entered my mind.  I could see he had made coffee so I waved at him and poured myself a cup. I gingerly sat on a stool as my back was still twitchy.  He turned the tv on and as it played I looked more closely at the layout of the great room.  There was a kitchen with a large island, dining area with a table for eight, and living room with a large L-shaped sofa, two arm chairs, coffee table and assorted end tables.  In the corner where he had set up the treadmill, was also a punching bag, floor mat and weight station.  Both sides of the great space had large windows to the ceiling.  It felt modern, stylish, and expensive. 

"Hey, looks like your attack made the news," he pointed to the tv and turned up the sound.

Cell phone video from a witness showed me being attacked and falling.  When it happened it felt like it was in slow motion but in reality it was 10-15 seconds maximum.  As the attacker ran away James came out of nowhere and clotheslined the guy with his left arm.  He picked up my purse with one hand, picked up the attacker by the scruff of his collar with the other and dragged him back to where I lay unconscious all while yelling "Call 911!" The video showed me being loaded into an ambulance and a close-up of James getting in for the ride. The announcer commented on what a hero the unidentified rescuer must be to accompany the victim to the hospital.

"Wow! You really did get him good, didn't you?  Thank you, again," I exclaimed.

"You're more than welcome," he replied as he slowed the treadmill down to a stop.  He wrapped a towel around his neck and came to the counter. He was sweating noticeably but still smelled wonderful.  He seemed completely unawares of his physicality and its effect on me.  I had a hard time trying not to stare. 

"I hope I didn't wake you.  I often run along the river in the morning but I didn't want you to wake up in an empty place."

"You didn't.  The painkillers did their work.  No headache but my back is still bothering me."   My brain was on fire and while I spoke I could hear another voice in my head saying  "You smell fantastic! Please come closer to me!"

"Well, you relax while I get showered and changed. I'll make us a late breakfast when I'm done."

James excused himself and I walked over to the windows on the far side of the room just to keep myself from following him. There was a view of the river and the office towers on the opposite river bank.  The windows on the other side opened to some nice brick row houses with the occasional café, bakery or deli.  It was obviously a much nicer neighbourhood than where I had been living.  Trying to be helpful I went to get some things out for breakfast. As I bent down to get the toaster out of the lower cupboard my back pain flared and I gripped the counter to steady myself. James materialized at my side and ushered me to an armchair.

"Stay put," he ordered. "What can I make for you?" 

I asked for toast and coffee. He nodded and began cooking up a storm.  He set the table, served the food then escorted me to the table.  My plate had toast with a jar of jam beside it.  His plate was loaded with several fried eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns and toast.  I looked sceptically at it and he began to laugh.

"I have an extremely high metabolism so I need a lot of calories. I do eat more nutritious foods but I thought I'd make today my cheat day. It's amazing how much I can eat in a day.  I wonder about it myself sometimes."

That kind of explained the high body temperature I had noticed the night before. As we ate we shared information about each other. He told me about growing up in Brooklyn with his best friend Steve Rogers, the first Captain America.  There was a lot of fondness in his voice.  When I asked where Steve was now he smiled and explained how his friend had made the decision to return to the past to reunite with the woman he loved.  I realized he was probably feeling a little lonely without Steve and asked why he hadn't done the same.  He looked at his arm and said bluntly that he wasn't the same man anymore.  He felt like he would never again fit into his past so he chose to stay in the present. 

       I told him that for my sake I was glad he did and he seemed to cheer up.  He asked about my life so I told him a bit about growing up, getting accepted into art school, losing my parents at 22, then living briefly with my best friend's family. I hesitated at this point and he picked up on it.
       "What? What happened then?"
       "I'm not comfortable talking about it right now but I promise I will when I know you better."

He accepted my explanation and changed the subject. He asked for a list of things to pick up from my old apartment.  Shaking my head I said we should take a car or truck as I planned to move everything over.  He whipped out his phone and called Sam Wilson, the new Captain America.  Listening to them talk to each other was like listening to my friend's brothers.  There was ribbing, name calling and each was trying to out-talk the other.  I started to laugh and got an exaggerated look from James.  They decided on a time that afternoon and Sam promised to bring a vehicle that could hold all three of us plus my belongings.
       James cleared up the dishes and loaded the dishwasher.  He then asked if he could show me more of the place.  I must have had a puzzled look on my face because he quickly added that he meant the rooftop terrace.  The elevator stopped at our floor so we had to go up a flight of stairs to the roof.  My back was still sore but James held my free hand and patiently waited for me to take each step.  As we came through the doorway into the bright morning daylight I was surprised to see a beautifully built and decorated space. 
       There was a large wooden deck with built-in benches and plant stands.  Several large potted plants were scattered about in different groupings.  Near one of the groupings was a table with six chairs.  As the rooftop was above the level of the streetlights there were strands of mini lights to provide illumination at night.  It looked like something seen at a fancy hotel resort. 
       "Wow!  The HOA here has really outdone themselves!" I exclaimed.  This is a fabulous space for the building!"
      "This space is just for my unit," he replied.  "I built all of this on my downtime."
      "You built this, everything?" I couldn't believe it. "The furniture, the deck, everything?"
      "I did it all," he blushed. "Sam helped, of course, but just in the assembly and staining."
       I realized that he wasn't bragging.  This rooftop space was something he was genuinely proud of building.  He must have spent hours planning, building and staining.  I felt honoured that he wanted to share this accomplishment with me.  We enjoyed the rest of the morning up there talking about everything and nothing.