He grinned. “Happy birthday, Furball.” He set the cake down on the porch in front of my wolf.
She stared at him.
Then at the cake.
Then at him again.
He must’ve gotten my birthday from Abby, or Maya. Our friend group always went out to eat when birthdays came around, so we all had a list of the dates.
“Chocolate doesn’t hurt werewolves,” Graham clarified.
I knew that.
My wolf did too.
But somehow, she was still stunned that he was being a good, thoughtful guy.
After one last look at the cake, she finally lifted her gaze to him again. And stared.
“The pants are for your human,” he explained. “So we can match after you shift back. I thought it was funny. Ethan sent me the link.” His expression was a little sheepish. His face was reddening a little as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “If it’s not funny, just?—”
He cut himself off when my wolf stepped forward and, without further drama, bit his arm.
It wasn’t a dainty little nibble.
It was a massive, possessive chomp that clearly declared:
THIS ONE IS MINE.
I heard Enzo & Austin’s front door close as the shift began.
Closing my eyes, I tried to breathe through it. To focus on respecting and surrendering to the wolf, the way Graham and his friends had taught everyone else to.
My shift wasn’t instant, and it still hurt—but the pain was over much faster and hurt significantly less by the time my bony knees replaced my wolf’s back paws on the porch.
Looking up as I sat back on my heels, I found Graham kneeling in front of me. His eyes were bright and his lips were stretched in a relieved grin.
There was no way for me to reject him now. Not that I had any interest in doing that.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” I dragged a hand through my hair, pushing it out of my face.
Graham’s gaze dipped to my breasts for a moment before he forced it back up while redness spread over his cheeks.
Amusement had me biting back a smile.
He was at least a little attracted to me. That was good, because I was definitely attracted to him, and he was the one with the power to reject me in this situation.
I didn’t think he would, but still.
“I don’t have a shirt, but we can grab your clothes from my house,” Graham said. His face was getting redder by the moment.
He was flustered. By my nudity.
Hopefully that was a good thing.
I was pretty sure it was. Or at least kind of sure. Sureish.
