Page 18 of Pack Scratch Fever
The sweatshirt she wore hid her mating gland, but I couldn’t stop imagining touching the delicate skin underneath.
How sweet would she smell there?
“Avery,” Maddox says.
I huff and click through the pictures of the cats absentmindedly. “What?”
“She could be the one.”
I turn to him incredulously. “We spoke to her for five minutes.”
But a crazed look is in his eyes. “It takes people less than five minutes to know when they’ve found their Omega. We’ve been more than patient.”
I chuckle. “That’s not how this works, and you know it.”
Maddox has always been different. He’s the one to dive headfirst into things, is passionate to a fault, and fiercely loyal.
There’s a level of intensity he has that most people never achieve, and that’s him on a normal day.
He’s my packmate for a reason, though. His energy is infectious, and when he has his mind set on something, it’s almost impossible to change it.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he insists. “I dare you. I mean, come on, you’ve been staring at her shitty website for ten minutes. Youknowshe’s special.”
It’s been longer than ten minutes, but I don’t bother to correct him.
Instead, I nod in agreement. “But Poe’s not on board.”
“It’s not just about Poe,” Maddox snaps. “And he liked her anyway. I could sense it. It’s the first time he’s almost smiled in forever. This girl is special. I just know it. Ifeelit.”
“You feel a lot of things,” I smirk, and he punches my arm playfully.
“Don’t be a prick. Besides, we offered to volunteer, didn’t we?” He motions to the screen. “I’ll revamp the website; you retake those awful cat pictures. She’ll love it.” He points to one of the photos of the cat. “That, for example. You can make that cat look adoptable, not like a possessed potato.”
Mister Whiskers.
If it’s possible for a cat to scowl, the feline is doing it. His yellow eyes are narrowed, and long dark grey fur stands up sporadically in clumps around its face.
Mister Whiskers also looks like he swallowed a bowling ball.
Adoption fee: free.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“He reminds me of Poe,” Maddox adds.
I stare at the cat a little longer, taking in the displeased demeanor.
“He does.”
Maddox snorts. “He really needs a new job. That shit is killing him.”
I close my laptop. “Yeah, but good luck with telling him that. He has to figure it out himself; it’s not like he’ll listen to us.”
I’m aware that I’m lucky. Photography is my passion, and my job atLuna Community Collegepays well.
Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying what they do for work.
I yawn and am about to head to bed when I hear a faint sound.
