Ezra moved out of the main aisle between two booths, and Willow followed. He unlocked the phone, brought up his photo folder of complete builds, and handed it back to her. Then he watched the pictures as she swiped to each. She paused to study. She used thumb and forefinger to zoom in. She gasped and murmured. Her scent held a sharp herby note of awe, and a rumble of pleasure filled his chest. He swallowed it down. No vocalizing in public—a wolf rule he had never broken.
“Oh, here’s your Home screen pic.” Slowly she moved the zoom over every detail.
He loved this build. He hadn’t deconstructed it yet, though he’d built it more than two years ago. He had created an oak tree in the center of a green flat, built it out and out until its branches held squirrels and draping moss and bird nests and a beehive. Then he’d expanded the green, adding outward until he had a clear stream and pool, fish and frogs, a field of wildflowers, a patch of tiny orange mushrooms. He still wasn’t sure he’d completed it. One day he might add another field and another tree, a sapling, child of the gnarled oak daddy.
“I love it,” Willow said. “I love it so much.” She handed his phone back, head tilted back to meet his eyes, suddenly serious. “You don’t forget to take pictures. You wanted me to think so because you were embarrassed to show me.”
He ducked his head. Nodded.
“That’s ridiculous, Ezra. Own this. It’s beautiful work.”
He nodded again, unsure what else to do, but his chest filled with warmth and an unvoiced rumble of happiness. Willow called his work beautiful.
She giggled, and then the giggle became a full laugh.
“What?” he said. Her scent still sang of awe and delight. She wasn’t laughingathim.
“I’m not too nerdy,” she said. “With a hobby like this, none of mine could possibly be too nerdy for you.”
“You think I’m nerdy?”
“Of course you are. It’s the best thing ever.”
He huffed, tried to decide what to think of this. “I don’t think I am.”
“How many documentary films and/or podcasts have you watched and/or listened to in your lifetime?”
He shook his head. “No idea.”
“Too many to count.”
“Sure.”
Her laughter rang again. “Me too!”
“Willow, what does that have to do with—?”
“Only nerds lose count of their consumed documentaries.”
He shifted on his feet, pocketed his phone, and let a smile crease his face. “You need more than one form of data to conclude that we’re nerds.”
“Second form of data: your favorite hobby. Third form of data: you just used the worddata.”
Ezra’s chest filled with laughter that escaped before he could do a thing about it. He barely restrained the rumble in time. He wanted, needed her to know what he was; but not in public, and anyway he had to work his strategy. How to say it. When to say it. How many hints to give her before he told her. Maybe she’d put it together for herself; that would be okay too.
The morning slid into afternoon without his realizing it. He never wanted the fair to end. He never wanted Willow to leave his side.
They were in line at the taco truck, multiple people behind them, when someone cut in line, narrowing the distance between himself and…Willow. The guy was definitely aiming for Willow. Ezra swiveled to face him just as he called out.
“Hey hey hey, if it isn’t my favorite barista.”
Willow stiffened. The ease and joy dropped from her scent like an extinguished candle. In its place rose a heavy metallic coat of anxiety. “Oh. Hi, Keith.”
Ezra didn’t have to draw up to his full height. He always stood tall; his parents had encouraged strong posture from the time he was a pup. No apologies about his physical power. He was responsible to use that power carefully and kindly, but he was never to try to diminish it. He sidestepped nearer to Willow.
“Keith,” he said.
Willow’s nuisance wasn’t a bad-looking guy, average build and height for a vanilla, a lot of sleek dark hair. He drew up short when Ezra moved toward Willow. “Who are you?”
