Page 19 of Someone Else's Wolf

He huffed. "I will, though. Because it's you." He leaned over and kissed me, making it long and lingering, making my head spin, sending all sensible thoughts from my head. "Call me? Or text?"

"How about sext?" My giggle was undignified.

His grin made it worth it. "That, too."

We kissed once more, quickly, and then I got out of the car and headed towards what might be my future. He carried my bags and wouldn't let me help.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"In the past, we've chosen class sizes with an outsized number of non-shifters," the teacher explained in an easygoing voice. Professor Max (as he'd said to call him) had gray hair and a rounded midsection, and seemed like he took his time with things — and didn't mind explaining over and over again to newbies just how all of this worked.

I could appreciate that. I was already feeling out of my depth.

"And we chose mostly decorated or otherwise extraordinary non-shifters who've served their communities well and excelled in many ways. These were good ideas, but they led to a highly competitive environment. Sometimes, the best partner isn't the most competitive one."

He walked past my desk, glancing at me as he said this. Could he tell just by looking how nervous and unfit for this I felt, now that I was actually here? Fingers tapped my desk, then he moved on.

"Sometimes, the best person for the job is the most empathic. Or the quiet person who listens well. Personalities vary, and not all of them mesh. So, this is a class where we're trying something new. The number of shifters and non-shifters is relatively equal. You'll train together, work together, get to know each other without as much pressure and competition.

"And it's not a 'one shot and you're through' deal. If you don't find a partner, you're welcome to come back to another class, either later this year or early next spring when we have the next one. We'll be in touch with every graduate from this program, and we'll continue to track outcomes. So far, they're promising.

"The truth is that shifters find friends and loved ones among non-shifters all the time, and choose people to work with outside of this program, on the job, in their lives. Being a Type-A personality is not a requirement, sometimes not even a benefit. We all need people in our lives who care, but not necessarily the most driven people in the world."

Wait...We? Was he a shifter?

He glanced at me again, as if he knew what I was thinking. He gave me a wry little smile. Holy shit, was he reading my hormones and body language the way Peter did — so uncannily, like he was reading my mind? I supposed I'd have to get used to it. I tried not to squirm around uncomfortably on my chair while he continued on, speaking to the nervous incoming class. Could all the other shifters in the room tell how I was feeling as well?

I didn't know yet who was a shifter and who wasn't. Maybe that was their idea, to make sure we were nice to everyone. Probably we'd find out as time passed. But, apparently, they weren't even all wolves. It was a big adjustment from what I'd expected from this.

It also gave them the advantage. Most shifters would certainly know who the non-shifters were, probably every single one of them, and it made the rest of us stay on our best behavior. It sure set me off-balance. Still, I could see the benefits of such a system. A bunch of people like Sue competing for wolves in an environment of scarcity and stress would be pretty rough.

Even if the shifters had more of a choice, an environment like that could be unnerving, to feel like someone wanted to capture their attention, would do whatever it took to get a partner of their own. Obviously, not everyone would be like that, and not every shifter would mind a super-competitive environment. Hell, some might even thrive. But it would take a toll on anyone who wasn't of a competitive bent, and it would exclude non-shifters who weren't the best of the best but might have better personalities.

It was a good idea; I just wasn't sure how being part of the experiment made me feel. I hadn't known I was going to be a guinea pig.

Maybe I should focus on how lucky I was to have a try at all.

Did Peter regret having teamed with Sue? Maybe. But maybe he needed her drive, protectiveness, and fierce nature, since he was so easygoing and gentle and sometimes kind of clueless. The thought of him made me want to smile, and I fought to keep it on the inside. It shouldn't be so hard not to smile when I thought of him.

I mean, it was probably just sex, right? But it always felt like more to me. Even being near him was addicting, something I didn't want to live without. He had a nice face, and a kind heart, a hot body, and a bunch of other good qualities.

It felt like I was really falling hard. Even here, halfway across the country, attending a course so I could be teamed with another shifter, I was thinking about Peter. Would he be thinking about me while I was here? It was hard to believe otherwise. He was so caring and supportive and tuned in to me. He radiated loyalty and affection.Don't think love.

Or was that my "wolves are loyal" bias showing? He'd said we weren't mates. He'd seemed to find that a funny, even absurd idea. That made me wonder. If this was a pretty casual thing to him, maybe he was just a super-attentive lover. Maybe he was seeing someone else right now. (Well, notright now,unless he'd taken the day off work.)

I really shouldn't get ahead of myself here, I decided. Go through the course work, see what happened. When it was done, there would be time to find out if Peter still wanted to see me. I hoped he would. He'd said he would. But I'd have to wait to find out how things would actually go down.

"We'll also have forms for you to fill out throughout the course. Be as specific and genuine as you can. These are only to help us refine details and improve." Professor Max slid a piece of paper onto my desk as he walked past, distributing to others as well. He gave me a wink. "In a sense, you're guinea pigs. But don't worry; we'll make sure you get plenty of carrots."

Cue awkward laugh from my classmates. Great. The guy was reading my mind — or he was reading my body language well enough for me to feel like he was reading my mind.

Then again, who under these circumstances wouldn't think about guinea pigs? Most of my classmates looked no more confident than I felt. We were all in this together — and maybe that was part of the experiment, too.

We'd just have to do our best — and thank our lucky stars we weren't competing against the Sues of the world.

#

Rather than the traditional bunkhouse arrangements, we were housed in smaller rooms.