Page 12 of Shift Happens
Tomorrow was going to be awkward as hell.
Chapter 6
“No, absolutely not,” I said, crossing my arms. “You can’t just stack the Batman comics by ‘how cool the covers look.’ That’s not a cataloging system.”
Milo looked up from his creative reorganization project, amber eyes wide with innocence. “But this way, customers can find the most awesome ones first.”
“And how exactly would they locate Batman #462 if they specifically came in looking for it?”
He considered this. “They could… ask me? I know where everything is.”
“That’s not the point,” I sighed, though I couldn’t maintain genuine annoyance in the face of his earnest expression. “The point is having a system that works even when you’re not here.”
“Oh.” He nodded solemnly. “Like during full moons.”
“Exactly.”
It had been four weeks since the “werewolf revelation,” as I’d come to think of it. The morning after Milo had left my apartment, he’d arrived at the store right on schedule, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. I’d followed his lead, and we’d settled back into our work routine with only a few moments of awkwardness when our hands accidentally touched or our eyes held for too long.
If he’d smelled my arousal that morning on the couch—or worse, somehow sensed what I’d done after he left—hegave no indication. Which was both a relief and, strangely, a disappointment.
“Finn?” Milo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Why does your heart do the fast thing when you look at me sometimes?”
I nearly dropped the inventory clipboard. “I thought we agreed the heartbeat monitoring was invasive.”
“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “But you didn’t answer the question.”
“Because you make me nervous,” I replied, which wasn’t entirely a lie. “I never know what you’re going to knock over next.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Your scent changes too. It gets… warmer. Spicier.” He took a step closer, nostrils flaring slightly. “Like right now.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Okay, new rule: no scent commentary in the workplace. It’s weird.”
“Is it?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious. “For wolves, scent is just another form of communication. Like how humans use facial expressions.”
“Well, I’m not a wolf,” I reminded him. “And I’d appreciate if you’d respect my privacy, including the privacy of my… involuntary biological responses.”
He looked disappointed but nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”
I felt a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen expression. “It’s fine. Just… human boundaries, remember?”
“Human boundaries,” he repeated. “Right.”
We worked in silence for a while, restoring the Batman comics to their proper numerical order. Milo was careful to maintain physical distance, which only made me more aware of him somehow.
“So,” I said finally, hoping to dispel the awkwardness, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
He glanced up cautiously. “Yes?”
“There’s a comic convention next weekend in the city. I go every year to network with vendors and artists. Would you… like to come along? It might be good for your ‘human integration research.’”
His face lit up, all previous disappointment forgotten. “A convention? With other comic humans? And cosplay? And exclusive merchandise?”
“All of that,” I laughed, his enthusiasm infectious. “It’s a two-day event, so we’d stay overnight at a hotel. If that works with your… wolf schedule?”
“It’s perfect! The moon is waning.” He was practically bouncing. “I’ve read about conventions but never been to one. Do people really dress up like comic characters? Can I dress up? Should I memorize all the latest industry news? Will there be famous creators there? Can we—”
“Whoa, easy,” I interrupted his stream of questions. “Yes to cosplay if you want, though I usually just wear a nerdy t-shirt. Yes to famous creators. And yes, we can do whatever panels and events interest you.”
