Page 23 of Sweet Heart for the Bear

No. Absolutely not.

Because she isnot my girl.

I repeat that to myself at least six more times, like some kind of personal mantra, before finally summoning the courage to pick up my phone and dial downstairs.

It rings twice before—she picks up.

“You’ve reached Pizza Girls, where it’s always love at first slice! What can I do you for?”

Fuck.

It’s her.

Carina.

My brain short-circuits. My heart pounds like I just ran a marathon, which is absurd, because I could literally shift into a Bear and take down a full-grown elk, butthis woman—this sweet, curvy, dangerously charming woman—has me on the ropes.

I try closing my eyes to regain control, but all that does is make things worse, because now she’s all I see behind my eyelids—smiling, laughing, licking pizza sauce off her finger—no.

No.

NO.

I shake my head violently like that’ll somehow dislodge her from my brain.

I have to be insane to be thinking about her like this.

Didn’t I learn anything from my father’s mistakes?

Humans and Shifters do not get happily-ever-afters.

It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Shit.

I forgot to talk.

I fumble the phone like a complete idiot and finally manage to clear my throat.

“Uh, yeah, it’s Horace. Um, from earlier? With the computer?”

“Hi! I recognize your voice,” she says and waits a beat, “so, did you want something to eat, or?”

She says it so easily, like it’s nothing, like she isn’t completely unraveling my composure with a single damn sentence.

And I swear, I can almost hear her smiling.

This might be the first genuinely nice person I’ve ever met.

And it is killing me that she’s so sweet.

Because I can’t have her.

And I really want to maim any bastard who can.

I swallow hard.

---