Page 36 of Good Luck Charm for the Wolf

Every time I stumble across something pretty? I want to know what she’d think about it.

Hell, I passed a damn pizza-themed potholder at the store earlier and almost bought it just so I could text her a pic just to say thought of you, Sunshine.

Pathetic.

And yeah, I couldn’t stop calling her little cutesy nicknames either.

Sunshine. Baby Girl.

I never had the inclination to do that before. In the past, if I called a woman anything other than her name, it was likely because I forgot it.

But not with Dina.

I called her all those things because I wanted to.

Because she felt like that to me.

Like Sunshine.

Like mine.

I am so fucked.

I toss my phone onto the couch like it’s personally responsible for this downward spiral.

Except it dings.

My Wolf perks up immediately.

My other half is snapping in my head all snarls and growls like did she text back? Did she laugh? Did she say something sweet?

I actually growl at myself.

“Get a fucking grip,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand through my hair.

But even as I say it, I know the truth.

I’m gone.

I’m so far down this rabbit hole I’m about two seconds away from posting a Date to Mate review praising the frigging app!

“Cursed Lone Wolf finds beautiful pizza sorceress for emotionally reckless snuggles and possible HEA. Hooray for Uncle Uzzi’s magical machinations!”

I flop back onto the couch, arm thrown over my face as the realization sinks deeper and deeper into my bones.

This isn’t casual anymore.

Not even close.

Because I don’t just want Dina.

I crave her.

Her smile.

Her laugh.

The way she bit her lower lip when she was thinking about something in the pizzeria yesterday afternoon.

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