Page 75 of Book Boyfriends
“Yeah, but he bakes.” He huffs a laugh. “Well, as I said before, I don’t think you should pick any of us, especially when there is someone who looks at you like that.”
“Like how?” I keep my eyes on his, fighting the urge to turn around and see thelike thatlook he alludes to shining back at me in Davis’s gaze. Even without turning around, the heat of his stare burns into me. I know he’s looking.
“Like a man in pain because he sees what he wants, but he can’t have it.”
“It’s not the right time for us,” I say, an ache quiets my voice.
“From what Jackson says, it hasn’t been therighttime for a while.”
“Sounds like Jackson is as chatty as Owen,” I mutter, taking a gulp of my cider.
“It comes from a good place.” He leans back. “He worries that your dickhead ex and cousin hurt you so badly that you find any reason to hide from any chance you’d be hurt again.”
“I date.” I lean forward, my tone indignant, “I made out with and dry humped Davis.”
“I knew it was more than kissing.” He quirks one eyebrow. “But you’re still finding every excuse to not go for Davis.”
“I have you three to worry about.”
“Excuses.” Challenge glints in his eyes.
“I won’t take your happy endings away. I know what that’s like, and I won’t do it,” I say, a gentle tremor chokes me.
“That may be true, but I also think you’re more terrified to risk your heart again.”
“You’ve known me for barely a week,” I hiss.
He juts his chin toward me. “True, but I’m a hunter. I know when animals are scared and hurt. I know the ways they burrow into the ground or skitter through the forest to protect themselves.”
My silence and his words hang between us.They’re not all Will. You’ll find any excuse.Pilar, my brothers, and even, at times, Hope’s cautions over the last few years echo inside me.
“I don’t want to be a cliché.” My admission is quiet.
He reaches over, resting his large palm on my forearm. “You’re not. You’re just someone who got hurt.”
“I don’t recall writing a psychoanalyzing werewolf.” My snarky comment is half-hearted.
Just like Owen, my werewolf isn’t what I thought. Beneath the protective snark is an unexpected perceptiveness. Maybe it’s part of his wolfy traits that I didn’t realize I’d embedded into his character, or maybe he’s more than the words on the page.
“Sorry to disappoint.” He picks up his beer.
“You don’t.” I smile. “I like that even though I technically wrote you all, there are still things I don’t know.”
“Like your question from earlier about what I miss about home?” His wry expression seems to offer mercy, moving us away from unwrapping my issues. “Running in the woods. But Jackson has taken me on a few trails. They aren’t quite like Silver Falls but still allow the wolf in me to run free.”
The wolves inShifted Heartchange at will. The moon heightens their wolfy tendencies, but they control the shift. Still, that wolf sometimes needs to be exercised a bit. Hence, the frequent competition. It’s probably good Jackson has custody of my book boyfriends, because Lars isn’t the nap around the house all day kind of wolf.
“How about friends? Ivy? Victor?” I sip my cider.
“If this is to deduce if I’m as mopey as Owen about Selena, sorry to disappoint. Ivy is like no woman I’ve met”—his mouth quirks—“though, she’s a vampire, so I guess that tracks. She’s gorgeous, fierce, and has this dry wit… but I don’t think I really love her. Not in the way you’re supposed to love someone.”
“How’s that?”
“Like they haunt you in a good way. No matter where you are, they’re with you. Your heart isn’t just consumed by, but beats for them. Outside of when you’ve mentioned her, or Owen asks me about something in my book, she’s not here.” He places his hand on his heart.
A dull ache pricks in my throat at the idea of a romance I wrote where the two people aren’t in love. It’s almost too much to know that two of my books didn’t actually have happy endings. At least, not the endings their main male characters want. Owen thought the ending was wrong, and Lars isn’t in love with his leading lady.
“Did you ever love her?” I croak.
