“I have, but not always,” he hummed. “Besides, just because I am a shifter doesn’t mean I enjoy wet dog smell. I’d much rather keep out of the rain if I can at all avoid it.”
Despite myself, I laughed. It was hard to stay irritated with him when the jokes he made were actually kind of funny. “What does that leave?”
“I thought it would be a good time for you to try your hand at magic, now that the potion’s had some time to leave your system,” he said in a matter-of-fact way, as if suggesting I read a book or watch a movie.
I balked. “First of all, no,” I said, my mouth suddenly going dry. “Second of all, no idea how, so no. And third, I’m still angry at you for destroying my things,” I said, any humor in me dying right then and there. “I’m surprised my anxiety hasn’t come roaring back ye
