Page 3 of Christopher

“What did Linda tell you I was looking for?” There was no way she would’ve wanted Drake to meet with Karl if Karl had behaved like this. She hadn’t said much about Karl, but she’d made it sound like he was a nice person, which was the opposite of the guy sitting next to Drake.

“She just mentioned a colleague. I asked to see a picture, and when I said you were hot, I decided we should go on a date.”

“You decided?”

“I mean, Linda is nice, but she was talking about love and relationships. We both know that’s not why we’re here.”

Karl had the balls to wink. Drake stared at him, unable to comprehend what was happening. He wasn’t even surewhatwas happening. He just knew he wanted to get as far away from Karl as he could, as quickly as possible. “Actually, itiswhy I’m here,” he said. “I’m looking for a relationship, not a one-night stand.” Or a one-afternoon stand. There was no way he was sleeping with Karl, though. He’d rather set himself on fire.

Karl blinked. “Who would want a relationship with you?”

Drake didnotwant to know what that meant. He didn’t care. Karl’s opinion didn’t matter, and it never would, because Karl was an asshole.

Drake clutched his latte, knowing he’d reached the end of his patience—and he had a lot of it. He got to his feet, ignoring the startled way Karl looked at him. “I have to go.”

“Already? But we’ve just started talking, and we haven’t even gotten to the best part of the date yet.”

“Like I said, I’m not looking for whateveryouare looking for. I want to get to know someone, fall in love, and have a relationship that will last the rest of my life. It’s clear we’re not looking for the same thing, so it’s probably for the best if we end the date before it can get any more serious.” There was no way in hell anything would ever be serious between Drake and Karl, but even though Drake was dumping Karl, he didn’t want to be rude to him.

Maybe he should be, because Karl caught his wrist and pulled as if he wanted Drake to sit again.

“If you really want a relationship, we can discuss it,” he tried. “There will be boundaries, though.”

Drake was tempted to stay, because he was curious about what boundaries Karl was talking about. Karl was still holdinghis wrist, though, and the sensation of their skin touching made Drake want to rush home and shower. Karl’s hand was perfectly warm and dry, but it still felt slimy.

“No, thank you.”

Karl frowned as if he didn’t understand why Drake was saying no. “I’m offering you what you want. Why are you saying no?”

Drake should tell Karl it was because he was a creepy asshole, but he didn’t have it in him. He looked around the coffee shop, desperate to find a way out of the situation without making it messier. He didn’t know anyone here, which meant that if he wanted to get away from Karl, he’d have to act as if he did. Hopefully, whoever he latched onto would go along with it and not demand that Drake ask him what the fuck was happening and who he was.

The coffee shop door opened, catching Drake’s attention. A tall man came in, and for a moment, the world stopped. He was on the thin side, lanky, with fluffy brown hair and curious eyes. He looked around the coffee shop as if he’d never been in one, and for a second, Drake couldn’t breathe.

Then Karl squeezed his wrist again, and Drake snatched his hand away. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“What are you talking about? Sit down, Drake. We’re still on our date, and I’m not done with you.”

Karl clearly thought Drake was going to go along with this, but Drake wouldn’t stick around even if someone offered him a million dollars. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised Karl, even though he had no intention of seeing him ever again if he could avoid it.

He rushed toward the man who’d walked in, and as soon as he was close enough, he grabbed the man’s arm and squeezed. The man looked down at him, so Drake quickly explained, “Just go along with it, please. Free me from this awful blind date.” He sucked in a breath and almost stumbled back.

What were the odds of him latching onto his mate?

* * * *

Chris had no idea what was happening, but that was par for the course recently. He had no idea what was happening most of the time.

But it was the first time someone latched onto him like an octopus. Maybe the guy was an octopus shifter. Chris had no way to know, and he didn’t think he wanted to find out.

The man who’d latched onto him had wrapped both arms around Chris’s arm, almost spilling his coffee on Chris’s jacket. Chris was glad the guy had realized what he was doing before making a mess and that he’d been careful, but that still didn’t explain what was happening.

He shook his arm, but the man continued staring up at him with wide eyes.

Chris understood why seconds later.

The air was heavy with the scent of coffee and people, but under all of that—or maybe above it because it was the only thing Chris could smell now—was the scent of Chris’s mate. There was no doubt in Chris’s mind that the scent came from the man hanging on to him, and he didn’t know what to do with that revelation.

“What’s happening?” he asked, but he wasn’t sure what he was asking. Was he asking the guy to confirm they were mates? Was he asking for an explanation as to why the guy had latched onto him?

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