Page 16 of The Werewolf’s Study Date

My stomach does an immediate, stupid little flip. Before I can recover, three more texts roll in back-to-back.

Boone: I’m framing this. Getting it laminated. Hanging it in my living room.

Boone: Maisie, holy shit. I’m so fucking proud of you.

Boone: I could throw a bench right now.

Maisie: Please do not throw campus property

Boone: I’m in the varsity weight room, they have plenty of benches.

Boone: We’re celebrating tonight. I’m taking you out.

Maisie: Pretty sure celebratory dinners aren’t covered in the peer tutoring guidelines, Kinkaid

Boone: I don’t give a shit about the guidelines. 7:00. Wear something warm, we’re doing the fall festival.

I burst out laughing right there in the middle of the quiet lecture hall. The human guy next to me jumps in his seat, and Perkowinski glances up from her podium with an arched eyebrow.

“Sorry,” I whisper, turning bright red and shoving my phone into my pocket.

I practically float through the rest of the day. When I meet Delilah at the dining hall for lunch, she takes one look at my stupid grin and sets her sandwich down.

“Alright, what happened?” she asks. “You’re glowing like a cheap luminary.”

“I got a ninety-four on my Creature Bio quiz.”

“Hell yeah.” She grins and raises her hand for a high-five.

“What about your practical?” I ask, even though I already know she’s been nervous about it all week.

“I passed my threshold-ward practical,” Delilah says, her voice bright with barely contained excitement. “The coven approved the ritual for the next level.”

I actually shriek. Several people at nearby tables turn to stare, and I don’t care one bit.

“Delilah, that’s incredible!” I reach across the table and grab her hand. “You were so nervous about the pressure-hold. You must’ve practiced it like fifty times in our room.”

“Forty-seven,” she corrects, but she’s grinning so hard her cheeks have to hurt. “And it held. Under full pressure, it held.”

“Of course it did. You’re brilliant.” I squeeze her hand once more, genuinely proud. This is Delilah’s thing—her magic, her future. “I’m so proud of you.”

She squeezes back, her expression softening. “Thanks, Maisie. That means a lot.” She picks her sandwich back up, then glances at me with a knowing smile. “Okay. The ninety-four explains some of that face. What’s the rest?”

“And Boone asked me to celebrate with him tonight,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Delilah’s smirk turns into a full grin. “Oh, so it’s a date.”

“It’s not a date. It’s just—he wanted to celebrate the grade. That’s all.”

“Sure it is.” Delilah takes a bite of her fry, completely unconvinced. “You’re seeing the wolf tonight to celebrate a ninety-four.”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” She points the fry at me. “Have fun on your non-date, Maisie.”

CU starts Halloween a week early with the annual Fall Festival, basically the warm-up act for the actual Halloween bonfire next Friday.

It is entirely, undeniably a date. I know it the second I stand in front of my tiny dorm closet for twenty minutes, agonizing over which sweater doesn’t make me look like a lumpy potato. And Boone definitely knows it, judging by the fact that he shows up outside my building wearing a dark flannel that fits his broad shoulders entirely too well, his brown hair styled just enough to look effortlessly hot.