The Nerd Is My Mate

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

I was watching him from across the quiet library. He was really focused on the book in his hands. My eyes were drawn to his cute glasses sitting perfectly on his face. It was kind of surprising to see such a good-looking guy so into a book in a library.

I picked a book from the shelf, pretending I was going to work on my assignment. I sat down at a table, but I couldn't really concentrate. My eyes kept wandering back to him. He didn't even look my way, not even a quick glance. It was like I wasn't even there.

Then, I saw a girl from somewhere else in the library walk smoothly over to him. She slid a folded piece of paper onto his table. For some reason, I felt really curious. What did she write to him? I rolled my eyes a little, feeling annoyed, and tried to look back at my own book. But my mind just wasn't in it.

A little while later, I decided to get up and leave the library. I stood up too quickly, I guess, because I lost my balance and tumbled to the floor. "Oh, sorry," I mumbled, turning a bit red as I kept saying sorry to the other people nearby. Then, I looked in his direction, and our eyes met for the very first time. It was just for a second, but it felt like time stopped.

Just then, another girl walked up to him and put a bottle of juice right in front of him. A strange feeling hit me – a mix of jealousy and anger. Why was I feeling like this? I shouldn't care who brings him juice.

But I did care. It actually surprised me how much it bothered me.

Even that fierce, protective part of me, my wolf side, felt angry.

Thinking back, all those times I'd seen him in the library with a book, I'd felt this weird anger for no real reason. They were just books! But I was still mad that he was touching them. And it really bugged me when he'd wet his finger and turn the page.

I wanted to be the one he touched like that. "Why doesn't he look at me the way he looks at his books?" I whispered to myself, quickly looking around the quiet aisles to make sure no one had heard me.

The fact that I couldn't do anything about it made me even more frustrated. I'd tried to figure out why I was feeling this way, and I'd almost convinced myself it was just my hormones acting up. Sometimes he would glance at me, but then he'd kind of scoff, like I was some weirdo staring at him.

I knew he loved his books more than he'd ever notice me, and that really, really hurt.