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But it was Shaw who was mixing pancake batter. He was shirtless—why was he shirtless—with his tattoed skin and chiseled abs on display, and he flashed me a grin when I walked in. “Morning, Amelia.”
“Good morning.” I hesitated on the threshold.
His nostrils flared, and I had the feeling he could smell me. The reaction embarrassed me, and I took a step back.
“Looking for Karissa?” he asked, as if he understood. “I know there’s some… stuff… in the guest bathroom downstairs.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my face flush hot. Good lord, I was a grown woman; why was this so humiliating? Probably partially because Nathan had never hesitated to make me feel disgusting when I had discharge of any type.
I headed toward the bathroom off the foyer. Sure enough, I found pads and tampons tucked under the counter. Karissa was definitely the hostess with the mostest, prepared for anything her guests experienced. Even a little light kidnapping.
When I headed back out, smuggling a handful of tampons in my hoodie pocket, I tried to sneak back upstairs.
“Amelia,” Shaw called from the kitchen.
I stopped and debated sneaking back upstairs, but the draw to spend time with Shaw alone was hard to resist. Even as I debated, my feet carried me toward him. Just for a minute.
Plus, he not only had all those abs and tattoos to offer. He also had coffee.
“Found it,” I told him as I stepped over the threshold, reluctantly, into the warm and sunny kitchen. “Thanks.”
I put my hand on my stomach, pressing in on the cramp and trying to make it feel a little less miserable.
Shaw set the bowl down on the counter with a thump. His worried gaze checked my face. “Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Women go through this all the time.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it easier, does it?”
“It’s never stopped me before,” I said lightly. “Nathan would never let me…”
I trailed off. Nathan had accused me of being lazy regularly, and cramps had definitely not been an excuse for not getting more chores done, for being grumpy, or for not being eager to offer up my throat—given that he was too disgusted by my body during my period for any other form of sex.
I shook off the memories and smiled at Shaw. “I wish you didn’t know, but I guess that’s hard when we’re wolves, hm?”
“Why?”
“It’s kind of gross.”
He laughed. “Well, we are humans just as much as we’re wolves. Humans are kind of gross. I mean, when you think about sex, it makes the term ‘weird as fuck’ make a lot of sense, doesn’t it?”
I couldn’t help grinning back.
“Anyway, I grew up in a house with three brothers, you can’t convince me there’s anything especially gross about any feminine function. Those guys were disgusting.” He handed me a cup of coffee, without asking if I wanted one.
It was already creamy and when I took a sip, it was sweet too. He’d noticed how I liked my coffee.
I reminded myself that Shaw was a dirty player, according to his own sister. He was always charming. It didn’t mean anything. Shaw was thoughtful and charming and, in his own way, was as unattainable and impossible as his brothers.
“Even Brennan?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in mock horror.
“I mean, I don’t want to speak ill of him, but he ran out of socks when we were in high school and Mom found them all under the bed—”
“Ahh!” I cut him off, squeezing my hands over my ears. “I sleep in that room!”
He laughed before going over to a cabinet and pulling out a hot water bottle. He filled it from the teakettle, which he must have put on to boil while I was hunting up pads.
“Take this and go back to bed,” he told me, handing it over. “You look miserable. I’ll take care of Dylan so you can rest.”
