An (Im)Perfect Imprint (A Paul Lahote Imprint)

Chapter 4

A week later, I was staring at the bonfire, watching the embers burn bright as the different colored flames licked up the pieces of driftwood. The whole pack was there, and I was required to be there, to hear the legends for the millionth time. I didn't want to be here, and I definitely didn't want to be near Paul, who was sitting on the log next to me, and his eyes were burning holes in the side of my head.

Billy wrapped up the final story and many people were beginning to stand up and move around, milling about, talking to people. I kept my eyes on the fire, as I felt the pull to Paul becoming harder and harder to ignore. I stood up and maneuvered my way over to Uncle Billy, my Converse scrunching up dead leaves. Uncle Billy spoke in his gravelly voice, "Meredith, my dear niece, how did you enjoy the stories?"

I smiled at him through the dim light. "Wonderful as always Uncle Billy."

"Being a part of the pack becomes you," he said, "do you enjoy it?"

I joked, "It's always nice to have friends again."

Uncle Billy laughed whole heartedly. "I'll see you and Jacob at home. I have some business to attend to. It seems as though someone would like to speak with you."

He gestured towards Paul. I shook my head. "He'll be fine. I think I'll just grab that pan of brownies and head out."

I moved over to the food table, where Embry was busy stuffing his face full of chips. I sneakily grabbed the pan, and pulled it behind my back. Embry said, "Whatcha got there?"

I looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Embry growled, "Those are my brownies."

I giggled and sprinted into the trees, clutching the brownies as if they were my own child, dodging around trees, cackling the whole way. It was dark, but I could see the light of my house to my left. I abruptly turned and I heard Embry yell, "Where the hell are you?"

I ran out into the road, quickly crossing it, and hurried up the steps. I pulled open the door and rushed in, only to see balloons. Lots of balloons and everyone from the bonfire and Paul holding a cake with a picture of his face and "I'm sorry" written in icing. My stomach rolled and I really wanted to puke, and I had an overwhelming urge to literally throw the cake in his face. I squirmed inside while trying not to hurl the contents of my stomach, which was a lot, all over the floor. I said, "Paul, can I see you in my room? Now."

His eyes slightly widened and he nodded, which brought on a chorus of oohs from the guys. Uncle Billy seemed deadly uncomfortable, as I stormed my way into my bedroom, closely followed by Paul, who brought the cake in with him. I slammed the door shut behind and I turned to face him. I yelled, "What in the hell was that? Trying to force to me forgive because you had an audience?"

Paul replied coolly, "No but since you wouldn't even speak to me, I thought it would work better. And it did, might I add, because now I get to hear your precious voice scream at me."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, what I usually do when I'm about to cry. Paul continued, as he took a seat on my bed, "Just can you at least make an effort, for Christ's sake."

I glared at him. "I made an effort, you know when I tried calling you over 100 times, but last time it didn't work because I ended up being called worthless. How about them apples, huh?"

Paul groaned, "When are you going to get over that?"

I snarled, "When pigs fly out of your ass."

Exasperated, Paul yelled, "I've apologized. I don't know what else you want from me."

I gestured my hands wildly. "Bingo. I don't want anything to do with you."