Harper
If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be getting ready to go dancing at a nightclub with a bunch of werewolves, I would have laughed and assumed they were drunk.
Or possibly concussed.
But here I was, standing in Elise’s room while she shoved a black crop top into my hands.
“Wear this,” she said.
I held it up skeptically. “This is not a shirt. This is a suggestion.”
“It’s cute,” she insisted.
“It’s missing an alarming amount of fabric.”
Kai snorted from where he was sprawled across her bed.
“She has a point,” he said. “That thing would not survive a strong breeze.”
Elise rolled her eyes. “You are both hopeless.”
I sighed but pulled it on anyway, pairing it with my jeans. “Happy?” I asked.
“Very,” Elise said, beaming.
Kai gave me a thumbs-up. “You look like some
