Page 7 of Echo and the Homicidal Sea Panda

“It’s been that long, if not longer,” Finn replied.

Echo winced before eyeing Keeley. “I’m not antisocial. I’ve just been… busy. That’s all.”

“Busy doing what?” Finn asked, leaning closer across the table.

“I’m here now, so clearly not antisocial,” Echo said, ignoring the question.

“He might not be antisocial, but heismean,” Diego said. “He had the nerve to call me old.”

“You two are both the same age, right?” Keeley asked, grinning wickedly. “Born in the nineteen-hundreds?”

“The nineteen-hundreds?”Diego roared, turning to gaze at Echo. “The nerve!”

Keeley looked far too pleased with herself.

“I consider the late 90s part of the 2000s,” Echo said to her. Before he could put the other half of his two cents in, Diego and his name were called to the stage.

“Let’s go, myold,deadbeat friend,” Diego said, rising from his seat.

Echo groaned before forcing himself to stand.

“See?”Keeley said, an evil twinkle in her eye. “Only old people groan when they stand up.”

“I’m still in my twenties!” Echo snapped.

“Not for much longer,”Keeley called out in a sing-song voice as he slowly marched toward the stage, taking his sweet ass time.

“Get your ass in gear, Dr. Fisher!” Diego yelled into his microphone from the stage, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, another microphone in the other hand ready for Echo.

“You can’t expect an old man to walk fast!” Jenny yelled from the table. “He’s probably got bad knees.”

Echo sighed, but he did offer Jenny a smile and a one-finger salute over his shoulder. As soon as he climbed on stage, Diego tugged him closer. “Are you ready?”

“My ears aren’t,” Echo replied, fighting a smile. With Diego’s bouncy excitement, it was hard not to absorb a little of it. He’d missed that energy outside of work.

I’ll miss it even more when the pod exiles me.

He forced the worry to the back of his mind and drew in Diego’s joy, instead. And why shouldn’t he? He’d faced down three predators and lived to tell the tale—not that he could tell that tale to anyone. There might be hell to pay soon enough. He might as well enjoy that second chance he’d been given while he still could.

“Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey appeared on the monitor facing them, and wild applause broke out from their table and a couple of others. The first familiar chords played, and they both sang the first verse without having to look at the screen. Diego brought his usual tone-deaf special touch, his booming voice making it easier for Echo to hide behind.

On the pause before the second verse, Diego eyed him. “Against your will,hmm?But you know all the words.”

Echo chuckled and sang the next verse. By the time they reached the first chorus, Echo belted it out just as loudly as Diego, letting go of the anxiety he’d been holding onto all day, if only for a couple of minutes.

Problem was—anxiety had already come walking in the front door.

Midway through the song, a breathtakingly handsome, dark-haired man with eyes as dark as onyx ambled closer to the stage, sipping from a beer bottle. His heated gaze was locked on Echo.

A sense of familiarity coiled in Echo’s belly, as if he knew the man—but he couldn’t remember them meeting before. There’s no way he’d be able to forget that face, though. The stranger was all sharp angles, heavy brow, and chiseled jaw. His skin was deeply tanned, yet his raven hair showed no signs of sun bleaching.

That and two other signs pointed toward him not being a part of their pod. Dolphin shifters had little-to-no bodyorfacial hair, even their alphas, but he had a thin, neat beard. He was also massive—powerfully built with broad shoulders. Echo stood on a stage that had to be at least eight inches off the floor, but the man still seemed taller than him at a distance.

In their human forms, dolphin shifters were slender and rarely hit over six feet.

Human? Maybe, but Echo sensed otherwise. His gaze drifted down, looking for more evidence. The black, collarless leather motorcycle jacket and black tee under it gave no clues other than he was apparently going for a well-dressed, bad boy vibe. Echo couldn’t help but notice the huge, muscular thighs and a sizable bulge pressing against his blue jeans. Lower, he noticed big feet clad in black leather boots. The hand around the beer was enormous, too, with long, thick fingers.

Fingers Echo could only imagine wrapping around his neck as the man came into him from behind. Heat burned his cheeks at where his mind had raced. Echo’s face warmed even more when he lifted his gaze again and found the man still staring hungrily. Men like that didn’t usually notice geeks like him. That kind of attention wasn’t something Echo had practice with or knew how to handle.

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