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The seat beside me creaked, and someone warm pressed into me. I glanced over and swallowed a sigh. Aaron. It was shocking that I’d used to consider him a friend. Jaxon had said that he liked me, not Aaron, but I couldn’t quite banish my jealousy.

“Excited about the match?” Aaron asked.

“Sure.” Nope. I would rather stay here with Jaxon.

“It’s sure to be a good one.”

I made a noncommittal sound.

“You alright?”

Why the fuck was everyone asking me that? I forced a smile. “Of course.”

“Nervous about the blood moon?”

“Nervous for Jaxon,” I replied.

Aaron clapped my shoulder. “As long as you’re around him, he’ll be fine. He’ll just need you.”

“Me?”

He nodded. “Ogres are very territorial.”

I blinked.

“Just trust me. Be with Jaxon when the blood moon rises, okay?”

“I can do that.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jaxon

Iwoke with a groan and instantly looked over at Chris’s empty bed. He was on his first away game, and it was torture. When he was leaving, I’d had to convince myself repeatedly not to ask to come with him or beg him to stay. I knew it was my instincts demanding he was only safe beside me, which wasn’t true. Also, we were not even close to me talking to him about mates and him being mine. Permanently. Hell, we weren’t even dating, officially, though neither of us had clarified the fake dating plan we’d enacted. I needed to get a hold of these emotions, but they were potent. I’d even called my dad for help.

Neither he nor my mother had been shocked that Chris and I were dating. They had truly thought we were already a couple and just hadn’t bothered to tell them. Had Chris and I been the only oblivious people? Probably. But Dad had said it would get better as time passed. I was normal. Loved hearing that. No sarcasm at all. I truly liked knowing what I was feeling was typical, and that everything would be okay. Well, as long as Chris accepted me, but I wasn’t going to think about that right now.

I groaned, finally sitting up. I needed to go to class. I didn’t want to. It was English, and Chris was supposed to be with me. It would be fine, as much as I didn’t like it. I headed to the bathroom, and after I’d pissed and washed my hands, I gently took off the black silk bonnet that Chris had bought for me. It made me smile just thinking about how much he cared about me, about my hair. My braids were much neater now that I was sleeping with them covered. I shook off my morose thoughts and finished getting ready—Chris would be back soon enough. No need to mope.

Once I was dressed, I walked across campus, my head down and my eyes locked on the ground. Thankfully, without anyone talking to me, I made it to my class and took my seat. Looking at my phone, I frowned. No texts from Chris. Not too shocking. He was busy. I shot him a quick text, just to let him know I was thinking about him.

I didn’t even have the consolation of thanking Aaron in person for his bonnet suggestion. I had sent him a text, but it wasn’t the same thing.

Professor Crimpton flew up to her position on the lectern, near a microphone so her squeaky pixie voice carried over the classroom. “At this point,” she started, talking over the general din of the classroom as people settled in their seats, “you should be nearing the end of your first draft of your paper—if you want to pass my class that is.”

Chris and I were nowhere close to done, and from the groans and people shifting in their seats, we weren’t alone. Honestly, Chris and I had been much more distracted by each other to do schoolwork. This paper was also very low on our to-do lists as well. Who wanted to write a paper about Hamlet? I’d much rather we’d picked one of Shakespeare’s comedies, but here we were. Chris and his competitiveness. Well, when he got back, we’d have to work on it and get it done.

I took diligent notes, knowing that Chris would need them as much as I did for the quizzes and the upcoming midterm test. He was much more studious than I was. He had to be. He had to have good grades to continue playing on the soccer team, which was more important to him than the actual schoolwork.

After that class, I went to my next ones, not really paying much attention. I’d never have thought I would be that person once I’d found someone I truly cared about, but here I was: the lovesick, mopey boyfriend. I didn’t want to do anything at all until Chris came back and was right next to me.

I forced myself to head toward the library to work on homework. I had enough to do and being in our dorm would just make my lethargy worse. As I neared the library, I spotted a familiar figure. Carter was heading out, coffee in hand, when someone slapped his back, and he jumped. Suddenly, he vanished into a puddle of soggy clothes. I burst into laughter as his much smaller black cat form struggled to get free of his shirt. A frat guy I knew by sight, though I didn’t know his name, apologized profusely as Carter hissed at him.

Picking up speed, I headed over to him. When I reached the two of them, I nodded at the frat guy.

“Bro-tein,” he yelled, holding out his fist. I bumped mine with him, and he made an explosion sound that had me wanting to roll my eyes.

Carter yowled, drawing our attention back down to him.