Page 49 of Can't Help Growling in Love
I gape at her. She looks so worried, her gray eyebrows scrunched together, her hands clutched tight in her lap.
“No,” I blurt out. “Gods, no. This has nothing to do with that. I’m not—I’ll be okay, Stella, I promise.”
She relaxes somewhat, though she’s still frowning up at me. “All right, what has you so agitated, then?”
I drop onto the couch next to her and think of how to explain June to her. My lips curl upward at the memory of her, and my shoulders drop down a notch.
“I met my mate,” I say softly.
Stella makes a happy noise in her throat. “Asher! That’s wonderful. Who is she? How did you meet?”
I turn to face her. “Her name is June. She’s human. A night nurse at the hospital, and she wrote to me because she likes my show on the radio.”
I don’t mention that she also enjoys the spicy audiobooks I’ve been recording. That’s between June and me.
“That’s fantastic,” she gushes. “Have you told her what she is to you yet?”
At that, I drop my gaze to the floor between my knees. “Ah, not yet. We’ve, uh, we’ve only been dating for a short while, and it’s so soon…”
Stella’s concerned face hovers at the edge of my vision. “But…the full moon.”
“I know.” I lean back against the couch, groaning. “Don’t you think I’m aware? I’ve been going mad with the need to be with her. Hence the…” I gesture at the studio with my hand, hoping she’ll catch my meaning.
Hence the crazy behavior. Hence the nervous sweat smell filling every nook and cranny of this studio. Hence my inability to keep to my human skin for more than a few minutes at a time.
“Oh, Asher.” She reaches out and gently pats my shoulder, no more than a brief touch, then pulls her hand back. “You should talk to her. If she’s truly the right woman for you, she’ll understand.”
“You think so?” I hate how desperate I sound, but I’ve never had a relationship before, let alone had to have a conversation like that with a woman. “What if she just bolts? She’s—I really think she’s the one.”
My boss—my friend—lifts her chin and gives me a stern look. “Then you give her the time to come to terms with your situation. She’ll come back when she’s ready. And if she never is, well, then you’ll know, at least. But what if it all turns out okay?”
What if it all turns out okay?
It’s the same thing my therapist has been teaching me. Anxiety only spins out the worst-case scenarios, but since we can’t tell the future, these terrible options are just as likely to occur as the positive ones.
For the first time since I realized what June means to me, I allow myself to imagine what a best-case scenario would be.
June underneath me, her head thrown back in pleasure as I fuck her. June, proudly wearing a fresh mating bite on her neck. June, living with me, a ring on her finger, pregnant with…
I shake myself when Stella clears her throat delicately. Heat rushing into my head, I jump up from the couch and go stand in front of the open window to spare her the scent of my need.
“Er, sorry,” I mumble. “That got out of hand.”
She grins, her eyes glinting. “Ah, don’t worry. I was the same when I met my Roman. Love at first sight, and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
I slam my mental walls in place before I can picture my boss in a compromising situation with her very tall, grumpy troll husband.
“I’ll talk to her,” I promise. “She’s got some things going on with her house, but you’re right, she needs to know.”
Stella gives me an approving nod, then stands and walks over to her desk, where she keeps all the important documents locked up in a drawer. “Well, then, I’ll just grab the papers I need and let you get back to work. And please take this as kind advice from a very old friend—you need a shower before you see your June again. Even a human will smell whatever it is you had going on earlier.”
Not for the first time since she walked through the door, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me. But she’s right, of course. Now that I’ve snapped out of the frenzy that had been riding me all night, I can smell the nervous sweat on myself.
“Will do,” I promise her. Then I focus on what she’s doing. “So, you’re close to selling?”
She straightens, groaning softly. “Not yet. The realtor is putting up the ad this morning. She came by yesterday to take photos of the property, and she needs these in case anyone asks to see the documentation.” She waves the papers in her hand. “She’s fairly certain it won’t take us long to sell, though. This town’s been growing so fast. So many people want to move here, start a family or a business.”
“Right.” I think of June’s house and wonder what she could get for it if she sold it. If she moved in with me permanently and let go of that old place. “What are you selling for?”
