Sillas and I were NMWB.
Non-fated mates with benefits.
We didn’t date. Just had a sex agreement. Before Sillas, my luck in the phallic department had been about as promising as a defib with a dead battery.
We’d learned about each other’s bodies the way I had once memorized the periodic table, using either Lunex or HowlSafe—condoms for were-swimmers. Physical contact helped my body deal with the constant stress of medical school and my personal grief. In fact, it all started with him being my cuddle friend. Long hugs after long shifts. Hard coffees after harder nights.
But today? He’d asked me on a real date.
Alarm bells clanged in my head.
Was this actually smart? We both knew this agreement between us had an expiration date.
Ultimately, what harm could dating your NMWB do, since we both knew not to have expectations?
But what if I said yes, and then my actual mate showed up tomorrow?
CHAPTER 2
LOGAN
The moonlight creeping through the curtains bothered me less than the breaths coming from beside me. I vaguely recalled the training, the friendly wereball game, the bar, the club, and then…
“Hello, Thor,” a voice purred from the semi-darkness.
Hell.
When did she get here?
More importantly, who was she?
I usually never brought girls back home. My room was my hideout. Off Dark Diamond’s campus for more privacy.
Forcing one of my eyelids to cooperate, I flinched as it opened. A pair of green eyes stared right back at me, an inch away. My gaze drifted down to a net of roses and spines tattooed around breasts that could double as flotation devices.
I scratched my scalp as I let out a full-blown yawn. “I thought you knew I like sleeping alone, baby.”
She pouted at first, then perked up when I called her baby. I almost laughed, but instead I grunted at the sheer pain radiating from my…everything.
As usual, my body was a patchwork of injuries after a game—and a patchwork that healed at an annoyingly slow pace thanks to the gel we used. This time, though, it wasn’t just the game that had wracked me so much as the brawl(s) that had followed. I got off easy, just bruises here and there, plus a couple of broken ribs.
But the others?
My lips curled. I wondered if the imprint of my knuckles was still sunk into the face of that fucker who had dropped his cider all over Callum.Cider.I scoffed. Those losers didn’t even drink real wolf drinks. I hoped his two friends couldn’t find their molars, which I had sent airborne thanks to a well-placed elbow.
“This is our second date, and you fell asleep, so I stayed…for the cuddles?” She hesitated, her words more of a question than a statement.
Wait—second date? How was that possible, since I didn’t even know her? And more importantly, since I didn’t even date?
I scratched my chest.
There was a bet going around, though. Whoever gets to wear a player’s jersey before a game wins. I’d even heard some girls had rejected their own mates, all because I’d smiled or casually said hello to them. Like it meant something deeper.
A few seemed to think I’d actually mark some lucky she-wolf.
Lucky?If only they knew howunluckythey’d be as my mate.
(Un)fortunately for them, I had no intention of doing any of that, with any of them.
