Page 34 of Just a Friend for the Lion
“Liebchen! My stunner of a Pizza Queen! Look at you—brighter than the Harvest Moon and ten times as luscious!”
I snort. “Thank you, Uncle Uzzi. Look, if this is some kind of setup, I swear?—”
“Would I ever interfere with fate?” he gasps, hand to chest. “Just enjoy the evening! Mingle! Munch! Maybe even mate?—”
“UNCLE UZZI!”
“Just mingling! I said mingling!” he singsongs, disappearing into the crowd.
I head for the refreshment table to calm my nerves with a mini spanakopita and—bam.
I feel it.
Him.
Heat licks up my spine.
My stomach flips.
My skin prickles like my body is a divining rod and he's the water source.
I turn slowly.
And there he is.
Carter.
In a tux.
Looking like some forbidden snack from a luxury Shifter-only chocolate ad.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dark curls slicked back, a gold watch peeking out of his sleeve, and that grumpy alpha scowl turned up to eleven.
“Holy shit,” Dina breathes beside me.
“Don’t say it,” I mutter.
“Girl, if you don’t lick that man’s jawline, someone will.”
“Stop it. We’re ignoring him, remember?”
“Right, right.” Pause. “But just real quick—do you think he waxes or trims?”
I turn around before I can answer.
Or combust.
But it’s too late.
He’s spotted me.
Carter strides across the floor like he owns it—shoulders rolling, nostrils flaring, gold eyes locked on me like I’m the only damn thing worth seeing.
But if that were the truth, I wouldn’t be in this predicament, would I?
Dressed to the nines at a magical party with dozens oftoo beautifulmen and women—I mean holy cow, supernaturals are just in a class of theirown.
I feel dowdy. Chubby. Decidedly unattractive by comparison.
