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My wolf and Zed’s wandered off the trail at some point. They walked through the untouched forest, stopping frequently to cuddle and play a bit. Neither of them seemed to have any desire to run around or anything, which was actually a bit relaxing for me.
Until I thought back to what Stewart had said, at least.
When the wolvesfinally made it back to the truck, twenty-four hours had passed. The dirt parking lot was still empty other than the clothes we’d left on the ground, luckily.
Zed and I shifted back, and for once, I managed not to fight my wolf. It still hurt like hell, but was over much faster and much more smoothly than if I’d have been fighting her.
“You okay?” Zed checked.
“I’m fine.” I didn’t meet his eyes, embarrassment heating my cheeks and turning my stomach.
Tugging the passenger door open to distract myself, I peered inside.
Shit.
Zed’s palm landed gently on my back, and I jumped a bit, not having expected him there. “Damn,” he muttered.
The keys were still in the ignition, but the contents of our backpacks looked to have been dumped out all over the back seat. I saw clothes and shoes, but no wallets. The glove box hung open, with papers and receipts tossed around the truck, and the center console was open too, its contents strewn around the interior as well.
Zed had forgotten to turn off the engine when he parked and headed into the forest—and I had forgotten before I jumped out to shift too.
Someone had apparently robbed us, but luckily, my truck was too damn dead, old, and/or out of gas for them to bother trying to figure out a way to take the thing.
We checked the truck’s bed too, and found that all of my boxes had been opened and gone through. All they had in them was clothes and a couple of financially-worthless mementos, though, so whoever had robbed us hadn’t bothered to take anything from back there.
Zed grimaced. “We’ll have to walk into town and call a tow truck.”
It was at least a couple miles to the city, though. My college was on the outskirts, and we’d still had to drive down back roads and highways to get to the hiking trail.
So, probably more than a couple of miles.
“Could our wolves do it faster than us?” I asked, turning away from his hand. Our bare chests brushed, so turning away didn’t exactly have the effect I’d hoped for.
“Sure. But they wouldn’t go where we told them to.” He flashed me a small, tired smile.
Right.
We couldn’t communicate with the furry assholes.
I ran a hand over my hair. It was a knotted, dirt-caked wreck, just like the rest of me. Somehow, Zed’s still managed to look good, just because he was Zed. I hated him and liked him for that at the same time.
My mind went back to Stewart’s words, and I averted my eyes and stepped away from Zed a bit, reaching for my shirt. It was still on the dirt, where I’d left it, but looked like it had been trampled a bit.
It went over my head anyway, and I coughed on the dirt that flooded my lungs.
“There are clean clothes in the truck.” Zed tugged the back door open.
I remembered the diner—and the embarrassment of it—yet again. It was the only damn thing I could think about.
But Zed had his wallet while we were in the diner; it had been in his pocket.
And his pants were sitting on the ground, outside the truck still.
“Check your pants’ pockets,” I said quickly.
He frowned, and then his eyebrows lifted as he remembered, and he jogged around the truck.
Clothes rustled around until he found his jeans. A moment later, he held his wallet up in victory.
