Hungry Like The Wolf: A Paul and Rachel Novella

Chapter 5: Gravity

Playlist:

Sara Baraellis – Gravity

Tony Toni Tone – Whatever You Want

Daniel Bedingfield – If You're Not the One

Norah Jones – Come Away with Me

Landon Pigg – Falling For You in a Coffee Shop

Quileute Vocabulary:

Hó-kwat – Pale Faces

Pó-ok – Tribe People

Chapter 5: Gravity

As I followed him out to his car, I couldn't help studying his demeanor. "I really am sorry." And I was for snooping around his stuff. Even though the image of me in his sketchbook was something I didn't think I'd regret ever finding.

He opened the door for me. "You don't have to be. Seriously."

The garage incident was very small but sparked a suspicion about him. Almost supernatural reflexes. He was quite a man, I couldn't deny. He looked heavy, agile. But to be so quick on his feet? Quick to grab something that was on its way to the floor in a matter of seconds?

The stereo blared. It was a 50Cent song. I think it was "21 questions."

I was seriously thinking I had a few questions of my own about him. "Okay, that was really weird."

He didn't bother looking at me when he responded. "What was?"

"Don't play coy with me."

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Your little David Blaine act with the notebook. How the hell did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Come on, Paul. That notebook. You were yards away from me."

"Feet," he corrected me. "I was mere feet away."

"Still," I insisted.

His eyes rolled dramatically, still trained on the road. "Really, I'm just fast," he argued. "Why can't you just be satisfied with that knowledge?"

"Whatever," I muttered, realizing he wasn't going to tell me anything. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe he was already walking before I noticed and was able to get near me in time for the notebook to fall. I didn't know.

"It was nothing," he insisted. "I'm just quick." His tone was dismissive, ending my inquiry.

I sat quietly, a bit tense. But what if there wasn't an explanation? What if he was just quick on his feet?

His voice was low and soft but deep enough that I could still hear him sing along with 50cent. "Girrl, will you love me if I was down and out. Will you sti-hill have love for me."

I figured I'd just move on. "So, you're into hip hop, I take it?" I asked, but feeling lame immediately afterwards at such an obvious note.

"Yup," he said, his mouth popping at the "P." "And R&B. Some alternative rock. But yeah, mostly hip hop."

"I see."

His eyes drifted to me for a moment. "Not your thing?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I like some songs. Just not everything."

"Like what?"

"Um... Black Eyed Peas, LL Cool J. Most anything Timbaland or the Neptunes touches. Not sure how I feel about LiL John. Is T-Pain considered hip hop?"