Page 2 of Amber: Deja Brew

"You don't have to do that. I’m the one who broke the mug.” Because I shifted into a troll, but details schmetails.

“I don’t mind.” Wes places one final, chaste kiss on my lips and steps back. “Stay right here. Okay, Ambear?"

My heart skips a beat at the way the nickname rumbles in his chest. I can’t tear my eyes away as my bear shifter steps around the broken glass and heads into the back. I hear him opening the storage closet when the upstairs door clicks open and footsteps echo down the stairs.

Chase!

I recognize my bunny shifter instantly. Julian would never willingly get up before the sun, and the footsteps are far too heavy to be his. Definitely Chase in his Doc Martens.

"There you are!" Chase says when he spots me. His hair is still wet from the shower and he’s wearing the same clothes from last night: jeans and a baggy shirt. Which reminds me that neither of my shifters has a change of clothes here... or any of their stuff.

Should I tell them they can leave a few things here? Is that moving too fast? We are mates, aren’t we? But we also only just met. So how soon is too soon?

“Sweetheart?” Chase looks from me to the mess on the floor and back again. His eyebrows furrow, and I don’t fault him for the confused look on his face. Here I am, sitting in the semi-dark with broken glass all over the floor, like there’s absolutely nothing wrong.

“I tripped.” I settle on the same lie I told Wes.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Chase quickly circles the mess and moves to my side. He starts to check me over, his hands caressing my arms and lifting my skirt to check my bare knees.

My pulse starts to race and the overhead lights suddenly flicker on, startling me. I jump, and my bunny shifter lets go of me like my skin’s on fire. Then, he backs away, and I feel momentary panic. Did I shift into someone else? Like maybe a troll?

I glance down, but the bare legs Chase revealed are definitely mine. The familiar birthmark, brown and shaped a bit like a coffee spill, peeks out from beneath my floral skirt. And my boobs look just as frustratingly small as they always do, which means I’m still me. Unless...

Did I half-shift?!

My hand flies to my face, but nothing seems to be out of place. I don’t feel large amounts of hair, at least not where hair shouldn’t be. My long, blonde locks are on my head, and there’s no beard, or mustache, or eye hair. Please don’t get me started on eye hair!

I let go of my face and reach back to check my ass. No tail, either. Phew!

"What did I miss?" Wes asks. His lips quirk up and there’s an amused glimmer to his eyes.

“Nothing.” I quickly let go of my ass.

“Just making sure Amber's not hurt. That’s all. I didn't realize you were down here, Wes,” Chase explains.

He looks like a bear caught with his hand in a honey jar—or in this case, a bunny caught with his hand around his carrot. I’m not sure that analogy is quite right, but what I do know is that Chase looks guilty. Guilty about touching me. Because Chase isn’t freaking out that I suddenly shifted—or half-shifted—into someone else. He’s freaking out because Wes caught us together.

“Chase?” I whisper, silently begging him to tell me I’m wrong. To make it clear that something else is going on here, and that there’s a reason he jumped away from me.

Instead of replying, Chase shoots Wes a look filled with a silent apology, and it’s like last night never happened. Like Chase never kissed me in front of Wes. Like he never had his face buried between my legs while my bear shifter pinned my arms behind my back. Like I never made love to Julian while both my shifters watched.

I suddenly start to doubt everything.

Sure, the guys and I said our I love you’s and decided to give our somewhat unusual relationship a shot, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if they get jealous, or they stop getting along? Or worse, what if they make me choose?