Page 4 of Snarl (Primal Howlers MC #9)

Lennon

I T WAS FRIDAY afternoon, and I was clearing out the last of my belongings from the office I’d shared with my colleagues for the past three years.

My doctoral thesis was in review along with my field research, and my anxiety level was rising.

It was only a matter of time before I got the call telling me if I was now Dr. Whitman or plain ol’ Lennon Blanchette Whitman.

The results could come in at any time and I was praying that I wouldn’t have to wait through the weekend to find out.

Until then I’ve kept busy, doing my best to keep my mind off the subject of my unwritten future.

My phone buzzed and I just about ripped my pants, pulling it from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway just in case it was someone from the university regarding my thesis.

“Hello?” I answered, trying my best to sound calm and professional .

“Hey there, is this Lennon?” a slightly familiar male voice asked.

“Yes, it is.”

“This is Snarl, we met the other night at your grandmother’s house. She gave me your number. I hope it’s okay that I called.”

I took a deep breath.

“Are you alright?” Snarl asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was just waiting for a call and thought maybe yours was it.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Maybe I can make it up to you with a night on the town.”

I was going to murder Granny for this.

“I’m flattered and you actually seem like a really nice guy, but I really should wait for this call.”

“You know that phone you’re talking to me on is mobile right? That means you can take it with you wherever you go.”

I laughed. “Yes, I am aware of that fact.”

“Besides, there’s nothing worse than waiting for the phone to ring. Let me take you out dancing and help take your mind off your important phone call.”

I opened my mouth to decline but couldn’t find a reason.

In fact, the longer I processed Snarl’s words, the more they made sense.

As awkward as it may have been, I actually enjoyed myself the other night.

And, although he may have been a biker, Snarl seemed like a gentleman with a good sense of humor. He was also very easy to look at.

I leaned against my desk. “You want to take me dancing?”

“Yes, ma’am. Very much so.”

“Line dancing at the Saddle Rack?”

“That was the idea, yes.”

After one more moment of hesitation I caved. “Seven o’clock sharp. I’ll meet you there.”

“I look forward to it,” Snarl replied in a tone that made my insides melt a little.

The second we hung up, I grabbed my keys and the last two boxes and made a mad dash for the Red Rider. I drove home in record time and practically hurled myself into the shower. The last date I’d been on was seven months ago, which may or may not have been the last time I’d shaved my legs.

After doing my makeup, I chose an outfit through a selection process that went something like this… “I look horrible in everything I own, in fact I look horrible in everything, I guess these jeans will do, at least I don’t look like a complete sewer rat in them.”

After rushing to get ready, I found myself with fifteen minutes to spare before I had to leave for the Saddle Rack.

Time to call Granny.

“Well, hello sweetie. What a nice surprise,” Granny answered, in her normal cheery tone.

“Don’t you play sweet and innocent with me, old lady,” I said.

“Heavens, what do you mean?”

“Why in the world would you fix me up with a biker?”

“Oh, good. Is Snarl taking you out?”

“Tonight,” I said curtly. “We’re going dancing, and I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“You’ve always been such a good dancer,” Granny said.

“I haven’t danced since my last ballet class when I was ten years old,” I grumbled. “But that’s not the point. Why did you fix me up with a biker?”

“I didn’t. I fixed you up with my friend, Snarl.”

“Who happens to be a biker ,” I replied.

“Yes, but that’s not why I put the two of you in the same room.”

“Then why?”

“Because Snarl is a good man with a good heart. He’s loyal, he’s protective, he’s good for a laugh, and if you didn’t notice, he’s a total hunk.”

I let out an inelegant snort. “Okay, but why me?”

“Because, despite your sense of adventure, you play your love life far too safe, sweetie. You’ve put your studies first, which is wonderful, but you’ve also put them second and third as well and that’s not so great.

Life comes at us quickly, Lennon, and if finding a partner is in your cards, you could do a lot worse than a man like Snarl. ”

“Snarl the biker?”

“Snarl, the man,” she corrected.

“He’s more than a man,” I retorted. “He’s at least part beast.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve always been great with animals, but you don’t know people.

Snarl understands people because he’s an animal.

Now, you just go out on that dance floor and let him teach you some moves.

You’ve been in charge of every move you’ve made over the past six years.

Perhaps it’s time for you to let someone else lead for a change. ”

“I love you, Granny.”

“I love you too, my sweet little glass of Lennonade.”

I grinned and hung up, grabbing my jacket and heading out to my car. Before I’d even started the car, however, my sister called.

“Hey, Kady.”

“Hey, sissy.” I secured my seatbelt but didn’t start my engine for the moment. “Where are you?”

Kadance was currently working for an exclusive art dealer in London, but I got the impression she was missing home more with every passing day .

“I’m actually on my way to you.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes. Granny didn’t tell you?”

“She did not,” I breathed out.

Kadance chuckled. “Typical Granny. Keeping all of her secrets to herself. Do you think she’s losing it?”

“Not a chance,” I hissed. “Are you staying with her or me?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Well, do you want me all up in your grill?”

I laughed. “Big sister, you have been gone for two years, I miss your face. Yes, I want you all up in my grill. You’re welcome at mine.”

“So, will you fill me on this man?”

“Oh, my god, Granny told you?”

“Nope, you just did.”

“What?” I squeaked .

“I guessed you might have met someone, so I just threw it out there. Is there really a man?”

“Um. No?”

“Liar. Spill.”

“Granny has a neighbor.”

“And…? Come on, Lenny, fill me in.” So I did and when I was done, she let out a long, drawn-out, loud sigh. “Well, shee-it.”

“Right? Gravy’s going to have a positively apoplectic aneurism.”

“Don’t tell her.”

“I can’t lie to my best friend, Kadance.”

“You’re not lying to her. You’re just omitting some truths until you know if this is going anywhere,” she said. “Go out with the guy. Get to know him. He might be a dick. And if he is, no harm, no foul. If he’s not, then you can break it to Waverly.”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know.”

“Sissy, what if this man is the greatest man on the planet and you turn him down because of an allegiance to your best friend?”

“Hos before bros, Kady.”

“I get it, but he hasn’t done anything wrong. And he takes care of our grandmother for god’s sake. Granny absolutely gushes about him. Anyone who takes care of the elderly is good in my book, and you’ve always said if people are good to the elderly and animals, they’re good in yours.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So, give the man a chance. If he fucks up, he fucks up and you can walk away, right?”

“Yes, I can walk away.”

“Have a little fun, honey. Live a little.”

I sighed. “That’s what Granny says.”

“Then we should always mind our elders.”

I chuckled. “I guess so.”

“Okay, I’m doing some final packing before I catch my plane. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you, sissy.”

“Love you back.”

“Have fun.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll try.”

“There’s the spirit.”

We rang off and I headed to meet my destiny.

* * *

The Red Rider wheezed onto the Saddle Rack lot, and thankfully, I was able to find a space for her to rest her tired bones quickly.

After one last lip and eyelash check in the rearview, I carefully slid out of the car, doing my very best not to pop a button on what were most undoubtedly the tightest pair of jeans I owned.

I don’t know what possessed me to dress like Sandy at the end of Grease, but here I was in full hair and makeup, an event usually reserved for weddings and university galas…

not that I attended many of those, and the tightest black clothes I could squeeze my cafeteria eating ass into.

But the truth was, I did know what possessed me, or rather who .

The real question was why? As in, why in the name of Jane Goodall did I agree to go out with a biker?

And why did I feel compelled to enter a ‘Whore-Sandy’ lookalike contest in hopes of being more attractive to him?

Maybe it’s because it’s been a hot fuckin’ minute since you let anyone near you, let alone found someone who could very likely handle the job of pounding the hell out of you.

“Who said that?” I asked.

Don’t play games with me, bitch. You know exactly who this is and I’m tired of being ignored.

Great. Just great. As if my life wasn’t crazy enough, now my pussy was talking to me.

One more clear sign that I was definitely cracking up.

I could just imagine some square-jawed psychiatrist locking me up in a mental hospital for life, declaring that I was suffering from an acute and incurable case of a new form of mental illness that he’d discovered called Vagina Inner-Monologue.

“Please, gather ’round, everyone,” he’d say to his bright-eyed med students.

“I want you all to get a good look at this patient. She was once like you. Young, full of promise, and destined for a brilliant academic career. But on the brink of her launch, instead of being awarded her doctorate and going on to become the top animal behaviorist field researcher in the history of biological research, she started a fight with her vajayjay that still rages on inside her head to this very day.”

“But sir. How can we avoid succumbing to such a fate?” one of his pupils would ask.