Page 8 of Shift Happens
“Not until recently,” he admitted. “I was raised mostly in wolf form. Our pack is traditional, stays shifted most of the time. But I’ve always been curious about humans. Your stories, your art,your coffee machines.” He made a face. “Though I still don’t understand why coffee needs to be so complicated.”
“It doesn’t. You just make it complicated,” I teased, which earned me a small laugh.
“Fair.” He looked down at his bandaged hand—the injury had transferred from paw to human form. “Thank you. For helping me. For not freaking out.”
“Oh, I’m definitely freaking out,” I assured him. “I’m just doing it internally.”
That made him laugh again, more genuine this time. “I can hear your heartbeat. It’s fast, but not fear-fast. More like… excited-fast.”
I felt my cheeks warm. “That’s a bit invasive, you know. The heartbeat-monitoring thing.”
“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “Wolf senses don’t turn off completely in human form. I try to ignore it, but with you it’s…” He trailed off, suddenly finding my bedspread fascinating.
“It’s what?”
“Distracting,” he murmured. “Your heartbeat. Your scent. They’re… nice.”
The temperature in the room seemed to rise several degrees. I cleared my throat. “So, uh, what happens now? With the full moon, I mean.”
“It’ll last two more nights,” he explained, grateful for the subject change. “I’ll have to shift again tomorrow and the next day at moonrise. Usually, I’d stay shifted the entire time, but I can shift back during the day if I concentrate. It’s just more natural to stay in wolf form during the full moon.”
“And you need somewhere to stay?” I guessed.
He looked up, eyes hopeful but hesitant. “If it’s not too much trouble? Just until I can reconnect with my pack after the full moon. I promise I don’t shed much.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. I think I can handle a houseguest who occasionally turns into a wolf. Though fair warning—I have no idea what to feed you.”
“I eat the same things in both forms,” he said. “Though in wolf form, I prefer meat less… cooked.”
“Noted. Raw meat for wolf-you, cooked meat for human-you.”
He smiled, relief evident in his posture. “Thank you, Finn. Really.”
“Don’t mention it.” I yawned, the late hour catching up with me. “We should probably get some sleep. You can take the couch, or—” I gestured vaguely at the bed, which was plenty big enough for two.
Milo’s eyes widened, and his scent changed subtly—something I couldn’t identify but found strangely appealing.
“The couch is perfect,” he said quickly. “More than perfect. Extremely adequate. I’ll go there now and leave you to sleep in your bed. Alone. Which is where you sleep. Alone.” He stood, backing toward the door in a way that reminded me of his wolf form.
“Goodnight, Milo,” I said, amused by his flustered state.
“Goodnight, Finn.” He paused at the door. “And thank you. For everything.”
After he left, I lay back on my pillows, staring at the ceiling.
My employee is a wolf shifter. Who apparently likes my heartbeat and scent. And is currently sleeping on my couch.
Sleep didn’t come easily that night, my mind too busy processing everything. And if I kept thinking about how Milo looked in my too-big clothes, with his shoulder exposed and his hair wild—well, that was just part of processing the whole werewolf revelation, right?
Chapter 4
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and something burning. I rushed to the kitchen to find Milo attempting to cook bacon, with limited success.
“Morning!” he said brightly, waving a spatula that had a piece of charred bacon stuck to it. “I’m making breakfast as thanks. Or trying to. Your stove is complicated.”
“It’s a standard stove,” I said, taking the spatula from him. “You just have the heat too high.”
“Oh.” He peered at the knobs. “Numbers are confusing. In the wild—with my pack—we cook over fire. No numbers involved.”
