And I… Honestly? I didn’t know if I’d even want him to leave.

He was a fucking wolf.

At least half of him was.

A wolf in Vancouver? What sounded like a great movie title sounded like an incredibly bad idea as a real-life scenario.

Fuck.

I shivered, feeling like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over my head. If anything happened between me and Rhett, it meant I’d have to leave my own life behind. I’d have to leave Vancouver, my parents, my friends…

But how many friends did I really have?

After all, I’d been missing for two weeks, yet no one had noticed enough to file a missing person’s report.

“Are you okay?” Nix cocked his head, eyes narrowing again. “I think I lost you for a minute.”

“Mhmm,” I said, taking a deep breath, before shoving all those unpleasantly annoying thoughts to the back of my mind, “I guess my life is pretty much up in the air right now.”

Nix’s features softened, his shoulders sagging a little. “Same,” he said, barking out a laugh. “Hard same.”

I gently pushed the plate with pastries closer to him. It really didn’t look like we’d eaten anything at all. “Grab another one, and let’s talk about… easier topics, okay?”

Letting out a gust of air, Nix nodded, giving me a careful smile. “Easier topics sound good. Soo… What’s your favourite colour?”

I couldn’t help but snort. “What are we? Five?”

Nix shrugged. “A person’s favourite colour can tell you a lot about them.”

Whatever.

I took a moment to think about his question. I liked a lot of colours, but the first thing that came to my mind was Rhett’s wolf in front of the lush nature. Dark, but still vivid greens, deep browns, hints of the blue sky in the background…

“Green,” I finally said, a wistful smile on my face. “Definitely forest green.”

Which was ludicrous. I’d almost died out there. The forest had damn near managed to kill me, but in the end… it’d brought me Rhett.

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes.

What the fuck was I thinking? Was there something in the water? In the pastries? Was Herb’s secret to selling addictive pastries that he put actual drugs in there?

“What were you thinking about just now?” Nix asked, and I opened my eyes again, finding him staring at me with open curiosity on his face, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Nothing,” I said, though it really didn’t feel like nothing. Actually, it felt monumental. Like a revelation. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to acknowledge it. “So, what’s your favourite colour?”

Nix giggled. “Glitter.”

I laughed, too, then grabbed another pastry. This time, I had no idea what kind it was, but it smelled like cinnamon and maple syrup, so it couldn’t be bad.

“That’s not a colour.”

“Fine.” Nix huffed out a laugh. “Purple.”

I could see that. I bet he could rock a punk-goth-chic outfit with a lot of silver, black, and purple.

Yawning again, I rolled my shoulders.

How long had I been out and about already? Probably just a couple of hours, though it felt like I’d been running around town for days. My feet certainly felt like I’d walked a marathon with lead weights attached to my ankles.