Page 115 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
“This is the staff library, but I’m the only one who uses it.” Carter’s sitting on the arm of an oversized chair.
“Why?” I walk over and plop into the seat. “I’d spend all of my time in here if I were a professor.”
He laughs. “Well, Draco doesn’t like reading and Everett would rather be in the forest.”
“What about Birdface?” I ask.
“Birdface?” he asks.
“Oh, ha ha. I mean, what about Ms. Fig?”
His muscles jump when he starts to respond, and he sucks in a sharp breath. I narrow my eyes and watch him struggle to answer. After a painful minute of watching his face contort, I lay my hand on his arm.
“It’s okay. What else did you want to show me?”
He smooths his hair with his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault someone is forcing you to conceal the truth. I’d rather not see you hurt yourself trying to be honest.”
“I want to tell you everything,” he confesses, sliding into the seat next to me.
The chair may be oversized, but with him sitting in it with me, there’s not enough room to be comfortable. I start to get up, but he grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his lap.
“You don’t have to go.”
I twist around and raise my eyebrows. “This is hardly practical.”
He smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. “I’m not complaining.”
“So you hang out in here all the time by yourself, reading?” I glance around the library.
“I wouldn’t say all the time.” He blushes.
“What’s your favorite book in this room?” I climb off his lap and head to the bookshelf in front of me. “Maybe Changed Wolves and Dissociative Disorders?” I take the text off the shelf and hold it up.
Carter shakes his head and shoves out of the chair. “While it’s interesting, it’s not my favorite.” He walks over and takes the book from my hand and slides it into its place.
“Oh? Which one is then?” His fresh rain and pine scent twines around me, and I fight off the urge to inhale deeply.
That would make things weird. I miss Joan; if she were here, she’d tell me to take it all in and climb him like a tree.
“I have five. Come on, I’ll show you.” He starts up the stairs.
Letting out a low whistle, I trail after him.
“Five? I asked for your favorite, can’t you pick just one?”
He glances over his shoulder. “Why choose when I can pick them all? One is such a boring number, don’t you think?”
Why do I get the feeling he’s hinting at something other than books?
“Fair enough.” I say with a laugh. “Lead the way.”
* * *
Later that night,after we have dinner together we head back to my room. Carter brought his five favorite books, which are all about witches—I think he has a fetish—so we lie next to each other on the bed and read. It’s only strange for a few minutes, then I lose myself in a book with stories of the Thatcher line of witches until I hear Carter snoring.
Glancing away from my book, I smile and shake my head. His book is resting on his chest and his arm is tossed over his eyes to shield them from the light. I reach over and run my hand through his sandy blond hair. The strands are so soft. It’ll probably be weird if he suddenly wakes up and sees me staring at him, so I close my book and shut off the light.
