“You survived the flu!” I exclaimed.
It was taking mega effort to pretend I felt like my normal, cheerful self.
Zoe eyed me with great suspicion. “You’re acting weird.”
Poor thing, she evensoundedsick. I didn’t want to imagine how bad of shape she’d been in if she thought this was an improvement.
I had picked up and dropped off food for her most days on my way home from work, but hadn’t risked exposing myself to her flu. Abby had told me werewolves didn’t really get sick the day before, so I no longer needed to stay away.
“I would never.” I kicked her apartment’s door closed lightly.
Maya caught it, stepping in after me and shutting it behind her. “What would you never do?”
“Act weird,” I said.
“You bought a purple couch and painted your house the color of a lemon. Most people would call that weird.” She looked at the stack of pizzas in my arms. Then blinked. “Who the hell is going to eat all of those? I can handle maybe one pizza on a good day, and I have a big appetite.”
“Three of the pizzas are for me, and we know your appetite is because you’re a werewolf,” I put in.
She blinked again. “Stella told you?”
“No one told us anything. We figured it out ourselves.” I carried my pizzas over to the coffee table and dropped them on the surface before taking the ice cream to the fridge. “It was obvious that they were realbeforeI accidentally mated myselfto a werewolf. Now that I’m one too, your werewolfness is undeniable.”
“We’ve never seen anyone pound as much junk food as you do without getting sick,” Zoe agreed.
Then coughed.
And sneezed.
And blew her nose, while quietly moaning a curse.
“You should’ve brought another box of tissues with you,” she told me, as she added her current one to the pile with a grimace of disgust.
Sometimes, being gross was a requirement for maintaining your sanity.
“I’ll pick some up before I go home.”
“Thanks.”
I blew her a kiss.
“How did you end up mated to a wolf? And who is it?” Maya checked.
“His name is Finn, and he’s the most devastatingly gorgeous man you could’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, he doesn’t want a mate.” I dropped to the couch dramatically, on the other side of Zoe’s tissue pile.
“Most werewolf dudes want mates,” Maya said, opening the first box of pizza and taking a slice. I took two, stacking them together to make a pizza sandwich.
The amount of food required to keep you alive as a new werewolf was truly disturbing. Pizza sandwiches should not have been a thing.
“Not the rejected ones,” I said.
Maya’s eyebrows shot upward. “He’s in the Feral Pack too?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. How many of us are mated to them now?”
I held up four fingers, my mouth full of pizza.
