Just trees, and dirt.
Suddenly, I didn’t hate the dirt as much.
I opened the closet door, and my eyebrows shot upward when I took in multiple massive stacks of fictional books. There were no bookshelves, but I spied classics, fantasy books, and even a few paranormal romances.
“You collect books?” I looked back at him.
“I… guess. I was drawn to the bookstore every time I went into town over the past few years. I never read them, but something said I needed them. Guess I was nesting without realizing it.”
“Nesting?” I looked back at the books, dragging my fingertip over the spines. Some were new, but most looked like they’d been read and appreciated already. I loved that. As much as I liked seeing the gorgeous photos of perfectly-posed bookshelves on social media, mine were always packed to the brim and overflowing. I cared about the stories, and was shitty with style.
“It happens to werewolves before they meet their fated mate. They collect things. Toilet paper. Non-perishable food. Money.”
“And books.”
“Apparently.”
“Well, I approve.”
A soft rumble deep in my throat said that the wolf inside me did too.
Nico was waiting stiffly in the doorway when I made it back out. He followed behind me as I looked around his entire house, peeking in cabinets and closets too.
I didn’t find any weapons. Or any more books.
Just normal things that any human—or werewolf—would need.
The house was beautiful, though. A twenty-eight-year-old woman’s wet dream. My friends and I had drooled over pictures of furniture and houses as gorgeous as Nico’s since we met, and I’d done the same thing on my own before that.
When I made it out to the back porch, I froze just outside the door.
I’d stopped so suddenly that Nico’s chest met my back. His hand grazed my hip before he pulled away.
The porch was stunning, with a massive hammock, a huge couch, and fireplace that fit the rest of the house’s vibes too. I instantly pictured myself curled up on the furniture with my kindle in my hands and a few paperbacks at my feet.
The view was what really fueled the fantasy. The porch had an almost-clear view of the lake, with a few trees basically framing it. Sunlight glittered on the surface of the water, and the forest wrapped all the way around the perimeter. I could see parts of a few other back porches around it, but they were all plenty far away.
“This is stunning,” I admitted, taking a few steps onto the porch before sitting down on the couch.
It was as comfortable as it was gorgeous.
I had been lusting after a sectional like that for ages.
I leaned against the cushions, and studied Nico.
He was still standing in the doorway.
And he still looked uncomfortable.
I wasn’t completely oblivious. It had been pretty obvious when he put walls up between us. The man wasn’t exactly sly.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked.
“No.” His answer was immediate. And he still sounded different.
“Let me rephrase that: we should talk.”
He didn’t disagree, and his expression was neutral enough to hide whatever he was thinking.
