Page 5 of Forbidden Virgin Mate

I know I should kill the conversation. She’s pushing all my buttons, and I really don't want to talk to my kid sister about this. Still, I can't resist. "Why? Why don't you see us together? Not that we are."

Saffy regards me for a moment, frustrating me even more. "Well, she's just a lot cooler than you."

I open my mouth to reply, but she continues. "And really, really pretty. Like, all the boys in class are falling over themselves to impress her. Obviously, they're all too young for her, and I—"

"But I'm too old?" I say, glaring at my sister. "I know she's cool. I mean, I saw that when I met her. But I'm not, you know, uncool."

She flashes a smile at me. "I love you, Zack, and you have a lot going for you. Not sure about cool, though. Unless it's lumberjack-cool."

"Well, Tanya didn't seem to mind,” I counter, then I grind out, "We're going for a drink."

Responding like this is childish, but sometimes my sister brings it out in me. She doesn't even look vaguely surprised at my admission, and that's when it dawns on me: she already suspected I asked Tanya out, and I just confirmed it for her.

"Mmm-hmm," she says with a chuckle.

"Very funny, Saf," I snarl. "You're too smart for your own good sometimes."

"I know," she chirps, jumping down from the stool and clearing the rest of our breakfast things away. "You're just too easy sometimes."

We work in silence for a moment while I stew on what she said. "Do you really think I'm too old?" I ask. My age gap with Saffy had definitely been on my mind.

"No, not really. But I guess that's up to her," she replies.

"Yeah, that's true," I say, grateful for her words.

"You're definitely not cool enough, though." She laughs wickedly as she grabs her laptop and waltzes out of the room.

"I'm cooler than you!" I yell, knowing it's a complete lie and cringing because I should know better than to get sucked into my little sister's games at my age.

Saffy must have been a complete surprise to our parents because there are over twenty years between us. But whatever good may have existed in them had long since evaporated by the time she came along. I'm only glad she didn't have to spend more time with them.

Even so, the effects of their cruelty were evident for too long. I may not appreciate Saffy’s teenage sass, but I'll take that over her silence during the first year she lived with me. No more than a pup, and she was too scared even to speak.

My hands ball into fists at the memories, my claws digging into my skin. I turn to the picture window that overlooks the decking and forest beyond, trying to calm my mind with the view that usually soothes my mind. The glass has auto-reflect technology, so it tints to deflect the light on a sunny day like today. The effect also means I can see myself more clearly in the reflection. I take in my appearance: checked flannel, workman boots, well-worn jeans with more rips than would be considered fashionable. My light brown hair is unbrushed and coupled with three-day stubble.

“Lumberjack-cool” indeed.

An image of Tanya at the fair flashes into my mind. Her sleek blond hair pulled up into a high pony, her flawless skin with a sexy hint of smudged eyeliner. The simple but stylish V-neck sweater that showed off her slim shoulders and a hint of enticing cleavage. The tight jeans tucked into boots that made her ass look great.

Dammit, sheisway too cool for me. She seemed keen on the date, though, because she replied to my text that night. We're all set for the weekend.

Saffy's right about a lot of things. One is that I don't date. Ever. But something about Tanya feels different, and it's not just her sexy ass in those jeans. After only five minutes, my wolf was more interested in her than he'd been in any of the women I'd taken to bed in the last decade.

Something about that really unsettles me. But it also means there's no way I'm going to miss this date.

Chapter 3 - Tanya

Pulling onto the driveway to my rental, I kill the engine and lean back in my seat. Tears that threatened to fall ever since I stormed out of the store slid down my cheeks. I brush them away, frustrated, crushed, and pissed off all at once.

I'm not a crier, and I'll be damned if some stupid woman I went to kindergarten with a million years ago turns me into one.

"What a bitch," I mutter as I take a deep breath and get out of the car. After grabbing the groceries and slamming the door, I walk toward the cute little cottage-style cabin I'm renting from Billie and Mateo.

This house is the best thing about being back in this godforsaken town. I’d thought I would have to commute from the nearby city when the local bigots wouldn't rent to me because of my surname. But Billie had really come through with this place.

This cottage is usually a vacation home, so it's decorated to a much higher standard than I'm used to. Soft beige and taupe tones, beautiful soft furnishings, and high-end appliances make the small property feel so inviting. I’ve felt more at home here in the last month or so than in any of the temporary homes I inhabited over the last fifteen years.

Home has never really felt like home. Not since we were driven away from the house I grew up in and cast out by the very people who should have known and trusted my parents.

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