Page 17 of The Turning of the Tables

“A lock-in at the Youth Center.” Elliot grimaced. “I was invited, but I declined.”

“You don’t want to spend a night with a bunch of pre-teens and teens?”

“Who are hormonal as hell and likely to go full fur? No, thank you. Been there, done that, don’t need to relive the experience.”

I laughed. “You’re a shifter?” I hadn’t thought about it,but I suppose it helped to explain the raw strength of his hands. I told myself to stop thinking about how they felt gripping my hips before this car ride became extremely uncomfortable.

“Is that a problem?” His tone was mild, but I knew it was probably a sensitive question from the way the muscles in his arm tensed.

“Nope. My twin’s a wolf shifter. He’d have eaten me in my sleep if I had a problem with it.” I smirked. “He still might.”

Elliot barked out a laugh at that, relaxing again. “I’ll protect you.”

I snorted. “From a wolf?”

He bared his teeth at me. “Ever gotten into a fight with a badger?” he asked.

I looked over at him. “You’re a badger?”

“I am.”

I studied him. The muscle of his arms, the heavy callus on his hands, the broad chest… Noah was buff, but this guy was solid muscle. “You could take a wolf?”

Another bared-teeth grin. “My claws are a lot longer and sharper.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” I pointed out.

“Never fought a wolf, either,” he answered. “So I don’t actually know, but Val tells me I’m a mean bastard.”

“Val?” I asked.

Elliot snorted. “Val Hart.”

I blinked. “Hart’s first name is Val? Like, what, Valencio?”

He let out a laugh that was a half-bark. “Valentine,” he replied.

It took a moment. “His parents named him Valentine Hart? Jesus.”

Elliot chuckled. “You’ll never guess when his birthday is.”

That one took me another second or two. “Theydidn’t.”

“Oh, but they did.”

I thought about that for a moment. “No wonder he’s such a grumpy asshole.”

That made Elliot laugh out loud. “Right?”

It was weird to think about Hart answering to any name other than Hart. Apparently he did sometimes, but I wasn’t stupid enough to see if he’d let me get away with it, especially since I’d never once heard the elf use my first name, even though I was pretty sure he knew it.

For the record, I am not stupid enough to ever,evercall Hart ‘Val.’ Or even remotely mention that I was aware of his first name. At least not unlessheasked me to.

“When’s yours?” I asked him.

“My what?”

“Birthday,” I replied cheerfully.