Page 20 of Flirty Pucking Wolf
Trevor looks at me. “Your hair would look pretty with that type of coloring. I don’t have the patience to grow my hair out, and it’s too wavy.”
I tilt my head, trying to picture him with long hair. I can’t do it. His brown hair is rich with copper tones. I think letting a drop of dye touch it would be a sin. Xavier agrees with me. Standing behind Trevor, he puts his hands on his shoulders and looks at him sternly in the mirror.
“Never, ever, dye your hair.” He runs his fingers through it. “Women pay so much money trying to get hair with this depth of color and highlights. A picture of you could be in the hair books to use as an example of what they want. It’s gorgeous.”
A flush creeps up Trevor’s cheeks. It’s from being complimented, not from having a man running his fingers through his hair. I know a lot of men wouldn’t be comfortable being touched like that. They aren’t homophobic. They’re just not used to touching other men outside of sports or roughhousing. I enjoy seeing this side of him.
“Thanks, that’s kind of you. Oh, I’m Trevor Carter. He/him as well. And this is Sophie Mackenzie.” He pats my arm.
I shake Xavier’s hand. “Good morning. She/her.” Every word I say somehow comes out awkward. Trevor isn’t awkward at all. Impressive. It’s lame that the bar to impress me is set so low. I should have higher standards for him.
“You’re the pro, right?” Xavier asks.
I nod.
“And you play hockey, Trevor?”
“Yeah, for the Atlantic City Devil Birds. I play center.”
Xavier laughs. “Oh, I know. My husband and I are huge hockey fans. We have Rangers season tickets and have been enjoying the PHL. You’re a joy to watch play, killer wrist shot. Could I get your autograph for him?”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.” He takes the pen and paper Xavier hands him. “What’s their name?”
“Vincent.”
Trevor writes something I can’t see and hands the paper back to Xavier. He reads it before he tucks the slip of paper into his gear bag and gives a bark of laughter.
“What did you write?” I ask.
All I get in response is a sexy wink.
* * *
“Good morning, friends! Who’s ready to get their shifter shimmy on?” Greta Knowles, the way-too-perky-this-early-in-the-morning show host, asks, smiling brightly at the camera.
Her morning show co-host Brandon Smiley—I don’t know if I hope that’s his real name or that he changed it for career reasons—wiggles his shoulders and beams. It’s a cliché, but the set lights gleam off his blindingly white smile. I can almost hear a ping sound effect.
“I am, Greta!” Brandon says. “I can’t wait to meet the contestants and pros for this season’sCelebrity Dance Dare. It’s a special shifter edition, so they’ll be bringing their animal magnetism”—he does a lame-ass growl and swiping paw motion with his hand that tempts me to shift into my wolf and show him how to do it correctly—“to the dance floor along with their moves.”
Trevor gives me the slightest of nudges with his elbow, and I do my best to look around casually so I can see the twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. The other pros and contestants roll their eyes or fight twitchy lips. Apparently everyone thinks Mr. Smiley’s a prat.
We’re lined up offstage, ready to be introduced one pair at a time as our names are
announced. There are eight teams in total, and we’re fourth in line. Trevor is by far the most handsome of the men here.
Greta gives me the smile women everywhere recognize. The one we give when we’re forced to work with a man less qualified than we are who probably makes twice our pay and we’re still expected to be perky.
She gives a tinkling laugh that’s more like shattering glass falling to the pavement than tinkling bells. “Yes, Brandon. Let’s see who’s competing for the Platinum Paw trophy. Our first pair is none other than charismatic actor Caleb Harkor and his pro partner, the sizzling salsa sensation Isabella Hernandez!”
The small studio audience erupts in applause as Caleb and Isabella make their entrance, showcasing their dance chemistry with a quick spin and a dazzling pose.
Brandon stares at the teleprompter, waiting for the studio intern to signal the audience to stop clapping. “Next up, we have the enchanting actress Olivia Mayes, paired with the king of smooth moves, Derek Duffy!”
Olivia and Derek glide onto the stage, radiating elegance and grace as they strike a pose. The excited crowd cheers.
The next team is announced, then it’s our turn. Trevor squeezes our clasped hands. I don’t know if it’s to reassure me or himself. I squeeze his hand in return.
Brandon’s grin is smarmy as he prepares to introduce us. “And now, from the boards to the ballroom, we bring you professional hockey player Trevor Carter and ballroom princess Sophie Mackenzie!”
