“What did he do?”
I shook my head, still in a small state of shock. “I told him he’d never be a hockey player if he couldn’t read and honestly, I was beginning to think he couldn’t. But he just aced the test.”
“A hockey player, huh? There could be worse things.”
“Not in my world.”
“Oh, come on. They’re sexy.” Tawny grinned. “You up for that drink later? I know you’re not working at your other job. The next game isn’t for a couple of nights.”
“It’s Wednesday and I don’t care if they’re sexy. They’re arrogant pigs.”
“Ouch. Okay then. No hockey players. I know it’s the middle of the week, which means we have two more full days before we can take a breather from sarcasm and testosterone.”
“No, silly. It’s the night I go skate.”
Her frown was followed by a short laugh. “That’s right. I forgot all about the night you practice. You’re sure you can’t change your mind just once?”
“You know what? I need to work off a little steam.” The nagging for excitement picked at the back of my brain.
“Are you sure? I know you too well by now. You need a little hunger and hunt. I know the perfect bar.”
“There is no perfect bar.”
“You bet there is.” She leaned in as if fearful others would hear. “We could even meet some wolfies.”
“Wolfies?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Shifters. I heard there were a few in town.” She dropped her gaze, doing one of her cutesy little maneuvers and miming a drawing. I knew exactly what she had on her mind when she drew a huge cock and a set of big balls.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” I challenged.
“Yes, but a girl can look. And fantasize. Do not tell me you haven’t thought about what fucking one would be like.”
I threw a look toward the classroom door, thankful neither the principal nor any students had snuck into the room. “Fantasizing only leads to hungering, which only leads to heartache, so that’s an emphatic no.”
“Party pooper. What would it hurt for you to taste one?”
Cocking my head, I couldn’t help but glare at her. Since the little over a year since the first reported and confirmed discovery that shifters walked amongst us, people had gone nuts about them. They were either terrified their entire families would be eaten in the middle of the night or eager to hunt one down for a trophy on their walls.
Then there were the groupies, mostly women who gravitated toward male shifters as if they were rock gods. From what I knew, they were notorious loners, which I certainly couldn’t blame them for given the insanity of how the press handled their existence. It was disgusting in my mind.
Then there was my father, the horrible man that he was, determined to wipe their existence off the face of the earth.
And me, who’d continued to keep her head in the sand regarding their existence. I had enough to worry about without werewolves combing the night.
“You really believe the hype about shifters?” I asked.
“They do exist, you know. Even if it seems as if they’re hiding.”
“So my father has told me in every sermon about how they don’t deserve a place on this earth. I don’t blame them for refusing to interact with humans. We suck. Now, you’ll excuse me if I don’t feel the need to mire myself in ridicule if my father found out I even talked to a shifter.”
“Ah, be a bad girl for once. You won’t regret it. They have two cocks, you know.”
Oh, my God. You bet I’d heard the insane stories on social media. There were nutcases out there. They were the same people who insisted little green men walked amongst us too. While science did confirm shifters were real, I reserved judgment and in truth, just didn’t care.
Now she had me laughing. “Oh, I’d love to see that. Like I told you the other night. Men are out of my vocabulary for now.” Not just because of my reprehensible ex, but also because my father continually wanted to fix me up with the ‘right’ guy. Only there was no such thing.
“Was Mark hitting on you again?”
