Page 38 of The Independent Girl's Guide to Mating with a Werewolf

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Once.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And—

The door finally flew open.

A gigantic, annoyed-looking dude with wild, dark hair glared at me from the other side.

Wyatt’s chest rumbled with a growl.

“You forgot to put pants on,” I told Graham.

He looked down, and his anger vanished when he realized he was naked.

The door slammed shut.

I was staring at wood once again. A much different kind than I’d just gotten a glimpse of.

“How long should I wait before I ring the doorbell again?” I whispered to Wyatt.

“Thirty seconds seems fair.”

Reasonable.

I nodded.

Silently, I counted to thirty.

Just before I hit the button, the door opened. Stella was on the other side this time, with the newly-pajama-pants-clad giant behind her.

“Are there s’mores on your pants?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s an inside joke.” Stella waved it off. “What’s up?”

“I signed you up for girls’ night.”

She blinked.

The guy behind her glared at me again. “We’re in the climax.”

“Take a break,” I said.

“You don’t take a break from—” Graham started, before Stella cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the gut.

He grunted.

“Everyone who isn’t involved in the werewolf thing has been worried about you,” I said. “The group is falling apart. I need you to be there. You can drive with Graham, stay for twenty minutes, and screw in the car after feigning tiredness because of your made-up recovery from illness.”