“The name’s Teddy,” I remind her, slipping the will back into its carrying case. “In that case, would you please show me to my room? I need to unpack.” I’m desperate for some alone time, preferably in a quiet, uncluttered room so I can process what just happened when Sophie stabbed me with her finger.
Sophie’s plush lips form anO. “But, but… you’re staying?”
“I believe I’ve already established that fact.”
“How am I going to explain you to my prospective boyfriend?”
A tiny pang forms beneath my rib cage at the mention of a boyfriend. I give myself a good mental shake. Although this ridiculous faerie causes an occasional fizzle in my belly or tingle down my spine, there’s a perfectly rational explanation that has nothing to do with the fact she’s stunning—even more so when she’s angry.
I’d have the same reaction to any reasonably attractive woman who paid me a little attention. I’m a twenty-four-year-old man who hasn’t been on a date since college, and who’s been living with an ancient faerie for the past three years. Other than periodic visits to my sister Bella, I’ve eschewed all social engagements.
The simple truth is I’m starved for affection.
Sophie appears to be waiting for my answer. “Tell your boyfriend the truth.”
“Prospective boyfriend,” Sophie corrects me. “I haven’t met him yet.”
“Huh?” I know I’m weary, but Sophie isn’t making any sense.
Sophie waves her hand in the air. “I’m speaking hypothetically.”
“Well then,” I reply, secretly relieved by Sophie’s non-existent love interest. One less complication at the moment. “Tell your hypothetical, prospective boyfriend that I’m your business partner.”
“Oh please,” Sophie snorts. “No one is going to believe that.”
“Why not?”
“You’re too good looking.”
“Oh I see.” I smirk, some of the heaviness in my chest lightening at the compliment.
“Don’t let it go to your head. You’re not the only pretty face in Riddle Hill,” Sophie grumps.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling. “I look forward to meeting the other pretty faces in town. Perhaps we could start a club.”
“Spare me your dog-eared werewolf humor.” Sophie shakes her head. “Come on, let me show you to your room.”
“Just a sec.” I remove the stack of cookbooks from the stove and pile them back onto the table.
Sophie gives me an eye roll before heading through the double doors. I pat the ugly green refrigerator on my way out like it’s an old chum, welcoming me home.
Chapter 4
Forced Proximity
SOPHIE
Later, June 22
I stalk through the living room, make a beeline for the short hallway to the right, and fling open the door to Leslie’s—er, Teddy’s—room, which unfortunately is a bit of a mess at the moment. There’s a mattress on the floor because the bed hasn’t arrived yet, a dusty antique dresser from my grandmother’s attic, a second-hand club chair that I plan to reupholster, several old lamps in dire need of rewiring, a large pile of my dirty laundry, and boxes stacked everywhere in between.
I glance over at the werewolf, who’s standing by my side; his posture has gone rigid, and he seems kind of in shock. What did he expect? The man arrived two days early, so he’ll just have to deal with it. Then I notice his fingernails have sharpened into claws, and the backs of his hands are covered in sleek blond fur.
Sweet moonglow! The last thingI need is my auntie’s former companion wolfing out. When I poke Teddy in the arm, he jumps a foot. “Geesh, get a grip on your wolf! What’s wrong with you anyway?”
He waves the leather portfolio containing Auntie’s will around in the air. “Isn’t it obvious what’s wrong?” he cries. “This is one hundred percent unacceptable! You… you’ve been using my bedroom as a storage facility for old junk… and your dirty socks... And—” he stomps over to Zosia’s litter box and shakes his finger at it “—That. Is. Excrement. In my bedroom!”
“I was planning to move that to the bathroom.”
