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“You want to get out first?”
He bobbed his head instantly.
Damn protective wolf.
With a sigh, I leaned past him and tugged the handle, opening his door. He nudged it the rest of the way open, and then jumped out, and shut it with his gigantic side.
I watched him swagger over to my side of the car, and then sit down.
With a roll of my eyes, I opened my door and got out.
He insisted he walk in front of me as we headed toward my dorm, and he seemed to know which way we were going. I followed closely, but put another inch between us every time he growled at me.
He was being really, really protective.
And it was annoying, but kind of sweet.
“OMG, is that your dog?” some girl exclaimed, staggering away from her group of friends—and walking right toward me.
Ford’s growl immediately turned more ferocious.
Something about the way he bristled and the changing tone of his growl told me he was not going to play nice.
“No! Don’t touch!” I said quickly, cringing inwardly at my insane awkwardness. “He bites. He’s not nice.”
The girl stopped in her tracks. “Oh. Then why do you keep him?”
“Have a good night,” I told her, veering away from her. My hand landed on Ford’s neck, and I grabbed his fur pretty tightly. “I need to get a collar and leash for you,” I muttered.
He scoffed.
“You can’t just go around threatening people.”
His huff said he disagreed.
Well, or he just didn’t care.
