Page 18 of Dark

The minute I cracked the refrigerator door, she dove into the opening snout-first the way Dallas and I used to when Mom would pick up ice cream on Fridays because, hey, with eight guys in the house, thirty seconds could mean the difference between sundaes and finding the empty carton put back on the shelf and West and River laughing like maniacs with chocolate chips stuck in their teeth.

I snatched the metal pie plate from the top shelf before Beowulf could eat the foil, then cry about having to be led down to the after-hours vet on a leash for x-rays. Holding it up over my head, I danced out of the way of her teeth.

Enough with this shit.

Allowing my wolf to come to the surface, I stared her down. Hayden whined. Tucking that big fluffy tail, she scuttled behind one of my barstools. I held her eyes, refusing to play. She glared back, throwing up a brick wall against the intrusion.

Damn, she was strong.

A full minute passed before she submitted. Lowering herself to the floor, she put her head down on her front paws.

Cutting a piece of chocolate walnut pie, I dumped it onto one of the deep blue earthenware plates Sofia picked out for me at Pottery Barn when I first moved in.

“I see those teeth again? The rest of this goes straight down the garbage disposal and I get Amazon to two-hour over their biggest bag of kibble.”

She blinked those big violet eyes, innocent as all get-out. Snorting, I kicked the plate across the floor.

You know those videos on YouTube where you could watch a pack of lions devouring a gazelle? Picture that, but with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles flying all over the floor.

A minute later came the sound of toenails on wood. I waited, holding my breath, hoping I wasn’t going to have to mace her in the face with the whipped cream. Instead, a warm tongue licked my foot. And then a very human Hayden was curled in a ball at my feet in a chocolate coma, shivering so badly it was all I could do to brush the crumbs from her mouth, wrap her in a quilt and carry her back to my bed.

Now she was asleep with her back to me, that dark mane of hair a wild scrawl across the pillow. My pillow. And suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have it tickle my neck at night. To breathe in her scent as I curled around her, our fingers and toes mingling under the covers, bare skin sliding against bare skin. No space between us.

What would it be like to stumble up those stairs together at 2 a.m. after listening to a band, so amped up we could barely get out of our clothes, not even making it to the bed before we were up against the wall, Hayden clenching me tight as I lost myself in her? Then to wake up together the next morning where I could kiss her breathless and brush messy strands of hair from her eyes, eager for her to push my head down between her legs and tug hungrily at my hair, begging for more.

And shit. Now I was sporting a semi.

Letting my head thump back against the wall, I rubbed my face. Hayden Crowe could never really be mine. And the sooner I accepted that, the better.

Neither of us got much sleep. When my phone blasted out Sex Pistols at 4 a.m., it felt like getting shot in the head. I stumbled to the galley kitchen to start coffee, then rapped lightly on the doorway leading to the bedroom.

A few seconds later, Hayden emerged looking tousled and damn adorable in panties and one of my old concert tees featuring a trio of laughing skeletons chasing a walrus. Brody practically crashed his cruiser every time I wore it down to the station. Which was why I kept doing it. She took one look at me in my sleep pants and nothing else and blushed down to the roots of her hair.

“You mind if I grab the first shower? Need to get downstairs.”

“Less. Talking.” She rubbed her temples, clearly feeling the effects of having shifted so many times during the night.

I smirked. “Or you can sign for deliveries. Turn on all the machines. Clean that nasty spot at the back of the ice maker—”

“Death wish?”

Tapping the end of her nose, I brushed past her into my bedroom. “Protein’ll help. I’ll grab us tacos at Guillermo’s.”

Her phone buzzed. She frowned down at the screen.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She shut it off, face betraying the lie.

“Brody texted last night after you were out. August will monitor Ellie this morning on campus. See if she’s being followed.”

Hayden’s expression softened. “Thank you.”

The thing to understand about Hays? She acted tough as nails, like nothing and no one could touch her, but Ellie was her kryptonite. And I wasn’t about to let anything happen to the one person she had left.

I took the fastest shower of my life. Throwing on a dark gray Henley, jeans and my Vans, I came out to the bedroom, only to discover Hayden was nowhere to be found.

“Hays?” I called, double-timing it down the stairs. “Hayden—"