I didn’t think she was going to be in any hurry to bite him, though.
Not after what we’d been through with my ex.
Graham put his phone down again and sat on the floor, just petting my wolf, until someone knocked on his front door ten or fifteen minutes later.
“It’s one of the guys,” he told my wolf, when she growled at the door. “My packmates. They’re pains in my ass, but they’re decent guys.”
She huffed, rising on all fours and shaking out her fur. Graham’s lips curved slightly.
“You want to meet them? Their reactions will probably be even worse than mine.”
Furball nodded emphatically.
“Alright.” Graham stood up. His pajama pants were ridiculous, but he didn’t seem insecure about them.
That didn’t surprise me.
In general, werewolves were pretty confident. That probably came with knowing how attractive they were to human women.
My wolf walked to the door in front of him, wanting to be between him and whoever was outside. It seemed safe to guess that she was still being possessive of him, but I didn’t know why she’d be worried about his pack.
Graham pulled the door open for her, and she glared up at the dude on her mate’s doorstep.
His hair was golden, and his skin was too. He was just as big as Graham, but he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.
His eyebrows shot upward when he saw me. “Fuck. Nico wasn’t kidding.”
“Does he ever?” Graham’s hand brushed my wolf’s side, and she leaned a little closer to him. “Furball, this is Ethan. Ethan, meet Stella’s wolf.”
“Can’t say I saw this coming.”
“I don’t think any of us did,” Graham agreed. “I’m going to head to Stella’s apartment to see what I can figure out about her business. Can you hold down the fort while I’m gone?”
“I do that anyway.” Ethan grinned, but the expression didn’t meet his eyes. “Good luck, Graham Cracker.”
“Thanks.”
He saluted my wolf before walking into the forest.
Graham closed the door, mussing the fur on my wolf’s head enough to make her snort. “Let me find some pants, and we’ll head out.”
She followed him into his room, then into his closet.
His expression was knowing when he looked over his shoulder after grabbing a pair of black sweats. “If you’re trying to make your human attracted to me, I can vouch that it won’t work unless she already is.”
My wolf snorted.
He dropped his pajama pants, revealing a perfect, bubble-shaped ass.
Furball didn’t have to do a damn thing to make me attracted to him. I already was, whether I liked it or not.
But… did he not sleep in underwear?
He stepped into a pair of boxers, followed by his sweats. A t-shirt went on afterward. The small selection of them that hung in the closet told me he didn’t wear them often.
Graham threw a few more pairs of clothes in a backpack, followed by another pair of pajamas—these ones had pizza slices on them—before he led my wolf out to my truck.
It was still sitting on the side of the road with the engine running and the keys in the ignition.
