Page 18 of UNAwere

‘Wolves eat whatever. Meat is meat. Protein is protein.’

I squint at him. ‘You’re allowed to enjoy food. You know that, right?’

He grunts.

‘How can you not have a passion for the things you eat? For the delicious food options we have in this country? Colonel Rooster does the best breading.’

‘I eat to survive.’

I laugh, and he throws me a glare.

‘Sorry. That’s just funny.’ I put on a deep voice. ‘“I eat to survive. Wolves eat whatever. Meat is meat. I’m a big bodyguard man. Give me protein. I don’t care what form it comes in.”’

His jaw flexes.

I gasp, getting an idea. ‘Maybe we could use the next couple of weeks as a way for me to introduce you to all the great food options out there?’

I pull out my phone and start researching restaurants that will be on our way before he even answers.

‘Have you had tacos?’ I ask.

‘Of course I’ve had tacos,’ he grumbles.

‘Okay, but the way you say that makes me think you’re not excited about tacos, and we need to change that.’

‘It’s just food.’

‘It’s delicious food,’ I correct. ‘You can’t just sit there and tell me you don’t even crack a smile when you put something yummy into your mouth.’

His nostrils flare again, and I raise a brow.

‘Hm. You know what? I take that back. You, of all people, probably could.’

‘My job is to get you to Alpha Warner safely. Not eat.’

‘Yeah, and that’s boring. You might as well have fun on this trip.’

‘Fun.’ He scoffs the word out like it tastes bad to him.

Again, not surprised.

‘I’m going to do this, even if you don’t agree to it,’ I tell him.

‘All the restaurants we’re going to have been pre-approved,’ he says, voice firm. ‘You’re not taking me out for tacos and risking your life, just because you want to see me feel happy about a tortilla.’

‘Fine. I’ll pre-approve all the meals we eat.’ I start scrolling through the menu of the truck stop he’s so desperate to go to. ‘Two can play at this game.’

‘I don’t think even you will get excited about truck-stop food,’ he mutters, and he sounds almost triumphant about it.

I quirk a brow at him, smiling slightly. ‘Oh, you sound like you’re starting to make a competition out of this.’

‘No.’ He gives me a warning look. ‘I’m working.’

‘And I’m stuck with you. We all have to put up with things we don’t wanna do.’

He lets out an abrupt sound that I can only believe is a laugh. ‘Stuck with me. That’s funny.’

‘You’re a grumble bum,’ I tell him. ‘You refuse to put on music. Not even a podcast. You only just agreed to drive with the window up, but I practically had to have a meltdown to get you there.’ I frown at my phone as I scroll through the truck stop’s socials.