Page 37 of Good Luck Charm for the Wolf

The way she looked at me like I was worth her time—even though I know damn well I’m not.

And that’s the real kicker, isn’t it?

That’s what’s eating me alive from the inside out.

I don’t deserve her.

Not even a little.

Not with the mess I carry. Not with the curse still clinging to me. Not with the life I lead.

But none of that seems to matter to my Wolf.

Because every time I try to pull back?

I end up right here.

Staring at my phone.

Texting her.

Again.

And hoping like hell she texts me back.

Please text me back, Sunshine.

Chapter 12

Doug

I tried working for all of three hours today, but my concentration is nil.

“This is insane. Completely fucking insane.”

I pace Horace’s living room like a caged animal, which, let’s face it, I basically am at this point.

My nerves are shot.

My skin still itches, thanks to Mrs. Goyle, Queen of Petty Spells, but I am on the mend.

Thank fuck.

I don’t wanna look like a monster for my date tonight.

Truth is, I feel like a green as grass teenager going on his first date with a girl.

To complicate matters, my mind is stuck on replay of every filthy, addictive sound Dina made last night while I whispered her through what was easily the hottest damn phone call of my life.

So yeah, my new permanent boner is being suffocated in my fucking jeans.

And now?

Now, apparently, the universe thinks I’m ready for more than just a casual encounter no matter how much I protest.

No thanks, Fate. Hard pass.

“I mean, come on,” I continue, running a hand through my hair as I turn on Uncle Uzzi and Horace, who are both lounging like they’re watching their favorite soap opera.

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