Kiss him? You did a lot more than that.
Even though I still remember the moment on my kitchen floor with pleasurable tingles all throughout my body, at least I have enough self-control to not go chasing after an unhealthy relationship.
Better that I stick to the single life and enjoy the friends I’ve made. I grip Thad tight and embrace the racing-heart sensation of flying down the road with only two wheels under me. I can tell the wolf is driving slower than he normally would, but it still feels like we’re rocketing, and in no time, we reach the aged building with its neon sign buzzing bright in twilight.
The Rabbit Hole.
Thad gives me a moment to study the place, pretending to check over his bike. There’s a line of them outside, but I also spy a yellow truck I’ve seen Courtney in around town, which helps strengthen my resolve.
“Ready?” Thad asks, brows raised.
I nod, but wave for him to go ahead of me.
The moment the door swings open, I hear music and voices and laughter. The place is busy, but not packed, and no one freezes to stare at the human newcomer like prey stepping into a predator’s den.
People in leather wave at Thad or clap a hand on his shoulder in greeting as we walk toward the bar. All the while, I scan the place, seeking out this once-in-a-lifetime view Courtney promised.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my friend appears at my side with an excited yelp. “Hell yeah! You’re here!” She grasps my shoulders and turns me to face a table in the back corner. “And there, my lovely librarian, is what I promised.”
I spot Roderick right away, mainly because his shoulders are massive, and his head is the only one here with such a short cut. He’s not looking at me, chin tilted downward as he glares at his hands.
Hands that are …
“Is he …” I trail off, not sure of what I’m seeing, but fearing that all my hard-won self-control is going to crumble when I get the answer.
“Your eyes do not deceive you,” Courtney crows, tone giddy. “Our illustrious, grumpy alpha is crocheting.”
29
RODERICK
“How areyou good at this too?” Warner’s question comes out strangled because he’s managed to wrap a strand of yarn around his neck and he can’t seem to unravel himself. This is what happens when he attempts to crochet instead of sticking to his normal job of holding balls.
Zoey rolls her eyes as she moves to help her wolf, but when Warner grins at her, I spy a responding smile curling her lips. Assured my brother isn’t about to asphyxiate, I return my focus to my fingers.
Turns out, it doesn’t matter that I have larger hands because the little metal hook is doing all the fiddly crochet motions for me. And now that I’ve got the hang of the movement, watching my stitches build on each other is satisfying. Soothing.
The practice is almost meditative.
In response to Warner’s flippant question, I merely shrug a shoulder and grunt. Zoey explained each step clearly. It’s not my fault he’s easily confused.
The bar fills up around us, wolves drinking beer, playing pool, and some even swaying to music from the jukebox that Courtney insisted stay on. A lively night at The Rabbit Hole, and I’m crafting in the corner.
I don’t mind the setup.
The door opens again, and I think I catch a whiff of Thad’s aftershave, though it’s hard to pick up his scent through the bar-goers and being on the other side of the room from the entrance. The wolf will find his way over here if he wants to say hi.
How many more rounds can I hook before he does?
I haven’t even gotten through one when my wolf stirs, and I breathe in deep on instinct.
Lemons and paper.
A fragrance I never expected in this bar full of werewolves.
My chin jerks up, and there, through the crowd, I meet a set of striking green eyes.
“Juliet.” Her name is my exhale, as if I’m always on the verge of saying it.
