“You also like that Christian guy,” he added, his expression souring as he looked away. “The one from the book.”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. He was jealous. Of a fictional character.
Hashtag Team Grey. Sorry Zaliver.
Why did this always happen to me? One minute I was teasing, the next I was mentally writing my will.
“I’ll make you something to eat, then bed,” he said, pushing open the front door and guiding us to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair, settled me in, and began gathering ingredients like it was routine. I glanced at the clock 11:57. Not as late as I thought.
He acted like he didn’t care. Like he wasn’t opening up. But... this? This had to be his way of showing he did, in his own cryptic, emotionally stunted, supernatural god-wolf way. I wanted to know more. I needed
