Page 94 of Pack: Posy 3

"Um, what is sketching?" I asked after he put his phone away.

"Drawing, baby."

"Can I see your drawing?" I bounced up and down and clapped my hands. "Mason said you're awesome at drawing!"

"He did?" Wyatt's eyebrows flew up.

"Yeah. He said you designed his mechanical arm tattoo, which is amazing, by the way."

Wyatt looked happy as a clam to hear Mason had praised him, and I hid my smile.

"Well, I don't really like someone looking at it before it's finished," he hesitated, then grinned. "How about I show you some in my other sketchbooks?"

"You have more than one?"

"Yep! Three completely filled up." He stood and pulled me along with him toward the living room. "I used to just doodle on anything. Scraps of paper, napkins, the backs of envelopes. Then, for my sixteenth birthday, Papa gave me a real sketchbook. He was the first one to encourage me to take sketching seriously."

Every time I heard one of the boys say something good about Papa, conflict squeezed my heart. I didn't understand why Papa had been so cruel to Mason, but so kind and caring to the other boys.

Mama had told me how wild Papa was as a boy and that Mason's grandfather did what he had to do to curb that behavior before it got Papa killed or imprisoned. It may have worked for Papa, but I didn't know why he'd thought his son needed similar treatment when 'wild' was the last word anyone wouldeveruse to describe Mason Price.

Pulling me out of my thoughts, Wyatt stopped at the bookshelf that held the family album Ash had shown me the other day. On the top shelf were three black-bound, hardcover books with dates hand-written on the spines in white. He pulled down one book and flipped through it as if he were looking for something specific while holding it up too high for me to see.

"Can I see all of the books?" I asked, greedy to learn about my mate through his art.

"Um, let me make sure the other two are ... clean."

"Huh? Clean?" I scrunched my face up as I stared at him.

"I took art in high school, and we studied human anatomy to learn how the body moves so we could draw it better."

"What's anatomy mean, anyway? Ash said I needed an anatomy lesson."

"He did?" Wyatt snorted. "Anatomy means the human body. Do I want to knowwhyyou need an anatomy lesson?"

"Never mind that," I muttered with a red face. Asking for more details about making pups was not a conversation I wanted to have withWyatt, of all my mates. "So you drew a bunch of bodies in your sketchbook?"

"Yeah." His cheeks flushed, raising my curiosity.

For as much as he enjoyed embarrassingme, Wyatt himself did not get embarrassed easily.

So what about drawing bodies would make him blush—

"Oh!" Realization hit me, and I giggled. "The models were naky-naky?"

"Not completely, but my imagination filled in a lot of details," Wyatt giggled, too.

"I bet it did." I rolled my eyes, then took the sketchbook he held out to me and hugged it to my chest. "This one is clean?"

"Yep! I started that one last December and finished it a few days before we went to Tall Pines." He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "And now we need to get you some breakfast so we can leave. We're meeting Em, Gelo, and Reau at the school in half an hour."

"Yay! Some of my favorite people! After my mates, of course," I chirped as we walked back to the kitchen.

Wyatt chuckled and motioned toward the microwave.

"Okay, while you're eating your breakfast, I'm going to go pack a bag of workout gear for you."

I nodded, remembering the plan he'd told me yesterday. After we were done at the school, we were going to meet the gammas. There were showers and changing rooms at the training center, so I could switch my dress for shorts and a t-shirt and my sandals for sneakers before my first lesson in self-defense.

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