Shit.
Fuzzy pajamas were hardly a good look when meeting your possible mate for the first time.
“I’m looking for my phone,” I explained. The woman was clearly suspicious. Or her wolf was, anyway. An explanation seemed like the best call. “I can’t remember where I put it.”
That didn’t make me sound like a catch any more than the pajama pants did.
Was I supposed to try to win her over?
I didn’t know.
Women being hunted by male werewolves never tried to win any points with their guys, but this situation was obviously different. We’d both been rejected—or rejected someone, in her case. Neither of us was new to the world of werewolves. That was bound to change things.
I figured it was, at least.
The wolf disappeared.
Guess she needed to sniff my bed some more.
I didn’t find the phone in the drawers, so I headed into my room to check the nightstand.
The wolf was already walking toward me with the device held carefully between her teeth.
I accepted it. “Thanks.”
She nodded, sitting down on her haunches and eyeing the phone.
If she was suspicious about finding other scents in my house, she was definitely going to have issues with not knowing who I was texting.
I sat down on the wood floor in the bedroom doorway, tilting the screen toward her slightly as I unlocked my phone. If she had the password, I didn’t think she could be worried about potential secrets.
I pulled up my messages with Nico—the last one was three months ago—and typed out a text.
Me:
What’s Abby’s friend’s name? I forgot to ask.
After sending the message, I waited.
And waited.
The wolf leaned in closer, and I absentmindedly scratched her behind her ears. She didn’t seem enthusiastic about the touch at first, but when I tried to pull my hand away, she followed it with her head.
At least I hadn’t screwedthatup.
“He’s probably busy. I think the climax just ended for them,” I explained.
The wolf nodded.
“I’ll just call youFurballfor now,” I told her.
She snorted, but didn’t pull her head away.
If she wasn’t pulling away, she couldn’t have hated the nickname.
After a beat of hesitation, I added, “I know a guy who’s mated to a woman who rejected her first mate. I’m pretty sure she hunted him, like this. I haven’t seen him since he and his mate tookturns visiting us to get their shifting pain under control. They had little kids. Probably still do. Anyway, I think I’ll ask him how the process went. If you don’t care.”
She nodded beneath my hand.
