Then Leo starts telling me how his mom was washing his large stuffed lion, Rupert, in the washing machine, and Rupert got stuck.
His mission to free his friend makes me smile and exchange a look of sympathy with Aren when his story ends with him being soaked, Rupert not being clean enough, and Leo washing him in the creek, which is probably what Leo wanted all along: an excuse to jump in the creek.
It’s a surprisingly enjoyable lunch, even if I’m not sure I can forgive the man I’m having lunch with.
Outside, Leo yanks his clothes off so fast I don’t have a chance to stop him before a small gray wolf is running in circles around my legs and nearly tripping me.
There’s no containing my smile at his excitement. “He has better control of his wolf.”
Was I like that? Full of puppy enthusiasm? I wish I could ask my parents without reminding them that we didn’t have nearly enough time together before we lost each other.
“He’s smart, and it’s mostly instinctive,” Aren explains, dropping into a crouch. “Leo?”
Days ago, Leo would have knocked someone down with his puppy enthusiasm, or he would have run in the opposite direction to throw himself into the creek.
But he runs right over to Aren, licks his chin, and Aren smiles.
Aren scratches his neck. “There’s a short trail that Gregor sometimes takes the pups out on. It’s better for their short legs and even shorter attention spans.”
“How do you know about the trail?”
“I was a pup once, and sometimes I’ll go with them.” He flicks amber eyes up to me. “You’ve been down for a long time. Despite what you might think, youarestill healing.”
“So this walk was so you could?—”
“Keep an eye on you, yes.” He gets to his feet, pulls off his shirt, and my treacherous hormones instantly betray me at the sight of washboard abs and rippling muscles. “And a run is always fun. Do you want to shift here or in the forest?”
I yank my eyes from his chest.
There’s not even a hint of male smugness on his face when he catches me staring.
He patiently waits for my response.
“I don’t want to shift,” I tell him, and start walking.
“Then we do this as humans.” Aren falls in beside me as we start our walk. Leo bolts off into the distance, circles a tree, and sprints back again like a big, fluffy yo-yo pinging back and forth.
I don’t trust my wolf. The last time I was around him, he smelled so good to me—to us—that I wanted to sniff him, and maybe rub myself against him.
He still smells good: wild forest and dewy snowdrops in the depths of winter.
Toogood. That’s the problem.
I remember how much he hurt me, caging me in a silver cage that nearly killed me and my wolf when he believed I was a feral, an out-of-control wolf killing students on a college campus.
The part of me that came alive when he called me ‘mate’ is growing. That part feels things and has needs that only he can fill.
Those two parts are colliding.
There are times the hurt is so loud that it’s easy to hate him.
But times like when I woke up and saw his concern make me want to crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around him, and stay there forever.
I feel torn in two, and no one can give me unbiased advice. If I ask any of Pack Kasen what to do, they’ll convince me to stay with Aren. He’s their Alpha. Their loyalty lies with him. If I ask my family, they will suggest killing him and then going back to Nebraska.
No one can make this decision but me, and I don’t know what to do.
“Aren’t you going to put your shirt back on?” I ask the man currently walking shirtless beside me.
