Page 32 of Good Luck Charm for the Wolf

Morning, Baby Girl. You just wear something pretty (and maybe with easy access), Sunshine and I’ll give you a whirl.

My Wolf isn’t satisfied with temporary.

And if I’m not careful, this thing with Dina?

It’s gonna break every single rule I’ve lived by since the day I left the Pack.

Chapter 10

Dina

Have you heard of the morning after blues? Me too.

But surprisingly, I am not feeling any.

Nope. Not me.

In fact, I practically skipped to my first class this morning—yeah I know, weekend classes might sound bad, but I love mine.

Today was productive. My professor was constructively critical. But I leave my art class feeling good.

No, scratch that—feeling great.

I nailed my charcoal piece, my professor complimented my composition (which basically never happens), and for once, I wasn’t internally screaming about deadlines or customer complaints or whether mozzarella was technically a food group—it so is, by the way.

Today feels light.

Hopeful.

Easy.

Happy.

I am glowing with it, until suddenly, a big, fat shadow falls over me, blocking out the sun.

I’m halfway down the steps of the fine arts building, tote bag over one shoulder, still riding my little high, when I hear a voice I’d hoped I’d permanently muted.

“Dina, hey.”

I freeze.

No.

No no no.

I turn slowly and there he is.

Eric. The Human Dumpster Fire himself.

Complete with his signature backwards hat, smug grin, and that irritatingly casual stance like the world just owes him something.

He’s leaning against the railing like he’s starring in his own cologne ad.

If that cologne was Eau de Overconfidence and Shitty Taste in Clothes.

“Eric,” I say flatly, gripping my tote tighter. “What do you want?”

He flashes a smile that used to charm me, but now makes my skin crawl.

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