Page 16 of When Hairy Met Stella

Except that. Her eyes weren’tthatgreat. But he trained his sights on the floor just in case he was wrong.

“No. I’m not… What are you even suggesting?”

“That we lean into this.”

Nope. No way. Nuh-uh.He thought about the last time heleaned intosomething, and it washerin the elevator. He could still smell her. But that was because he was standing toe to toe with her now. “We can’t… I can’t date you.”

“Of course not, silly,” she said as she pushed his chest. He didn’t miss the way it lingered there a beat longer than warranted before she pulled it away. “I just mean that we could fake it. Pretend that we’re together. That we’ve been quietly dating for a while now but didn’t want to say anything to take away from the wedding.”

Nate’s head shook like a bobblehead in an earthquake. “That’s…that’s a terrible idea.”

She raised her chin. “Give me one good reason why.”

One? He could have given her a million, most of them winding their way to the inevitable ending with either him getting hurt or her ending up dead. Not that he could tell herthat. He also couldn’t tell her that he’d had a crush on her from the moment he walked into the salon. And like the smell of the coloring products she put on her clients, it got stronger and stronger the more time passed.

“You’re my boss,” he said, giving the most obvious reason and burying the others down deep.

“So? There aren’t any policies about that.”

“There aren’t? Well, that seems like something I should bring up with management.”

Her lips quivered. She was enjoying this, wasn’t she? She was getting a little kick out of seeing this side of him. The side that was unnaturally flustered and not at all in control. A side he never let anyone see. “Management says it’s okay, especially since two employees are getting married this week, and everything at the salon is still hunky-dory. And also…I’m management.”

“Well, this plan of yours won’t work. I’m not that good an actor.” Clearly, because acting like he wasn’t at least somewhat interested in Stella wasn’t going as swimmingly as he’d hoped. He took another step back.

“I get it.” She shrugged and walked back to her side of the room to continue unpacking. “You find the mere idea of dating me as appealing Snickers bars.”

He paused for a second, mentally facepalming himself for the lie he’d told a few weeks ago. Back when she’d been eating fun-sized Snickers bars with Lucy and offered him one.

She shrugged. “I’ll just sit here and lick my wounds.” Suddenly, the thought of her licking anything was enough to make sweat prick the back of his neck. Because it reminded him of when she’d been eating the Snickers, ribbons of caramel clinging to her lips, which she’d licked in a way that made him swallow hard. That was why he’d said he hated the candy when she’d offered him a piece, even though it was his favorite. Hedeclined because he needed to get away from her. Because she found ways to grab his attention with even the most mundane actions.

And that was the precise reason he couldn’t pretend to date her.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder as he snatched a change of clothes, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he darted into the bathroom and shut the door. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, attempting to cool the warmth that had spread throughout his body. Werewolves typically ran a little on the warmer side, but right now, he felt like someone standing too close to a fire—one he had no idea how to put out. And he needed to put it out. As he rubbed his temples, he glimpsed himself in the large, lighted mirror, noting the wideness of his eyes. He looked like a crazed lunatic. Like someone out of control.

Like he probably did whenever he shifted.

That thought was the bucket of ice water he needed to snap him back to reality. Stella wasn’t for him. He knew that. He’dalwaysknown that. From the moment he’d walked into Hairy Stylez and applied for the job, there’d been something about her that made his insides ache.

She was beautiful, no doubt. But her smile…there was nothing like it. For as surly as he usually was, she softened him. And that needed to stop because, after all, he was a protector. And the best way he could protect her was to not get too close. Except, they were currently sharing a room.

He splashed some water on his face, not sure how long he’d been in the bathroom. Probably long enough for Stella to think she shouldn’t enter it for at least a half hour. Wonderful. They’d been roommates for less than five minutes, and he was already a bad one. He peeled his sweat-soaked shirt off his body, cringing as he caught a whiff of himself.

“That’s…ripe,” he muttered as he reached for a washcloth. He held it under the faucet and brought it to his chest, his shoulders dropping as the cold cloth met his warm, clammy skin. Thoughts of his beautiful roommate floated out of his mind until?—

“Aaah!”

His head snapped up at the sound of Stella’s scream, his protective instincts ramping up. He tore open the bathroom door and swooped down next to her kneeling by her suitcase. His eyes roved her body, looking for blood, broken bones, any sign of injury—not that he could have done anything to help her.

“What happened?” he asked, out of breath, his head mere inches from hers.

“My…sweater,” she began, her eyes on the luggage in front of her. “The zipper caught it and…” The sentence died on her tongue as her eyes lifted and then lowered…and then lifted quickly back up to…definitely not his face…as a redness crawled up her neck.

“Oh.” He easily loosened the sweater from the zipper’s teeth. “Everything’s fine now.”

He grimaced when he thought about how the past thirty seconds probably looked from her perspective. Him barging in like he was saving her from a life-or-death situation. He rose from the floor, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head, feeling like a moron for his theatrics.

“Uh-huh,” she said and then swallowed. “Everything is…fine.” He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and wondered how long it had been since she blinked. Why wasn’t she blinking? “You… I didn’t hear the shower running. Did you, uh, shower…while you were in there?”

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