Page 20 of Someone Else's Wolf

I had three roommates, all men. Conrad Willitz, Trevor Turner, and Kirk Staggs. Two of them were shifters, but I wouldn't have known that if they hadn't introduced themselves.

Kirk Staggs was an actual stag (a male deer shifter). He was handsome in an arrogant sort of way; he took one look at me and snorted, declaring that he wasn't into "that."

"That?" I asked, bewildered.

His lip curled slightly as he raised his head, lordly and superior. "People who fuck predators." He turned away from me and walked off.

"Uh, okay, then." I turned to the other two, feeling that I needed to act cool about this if I wanted to get through the next couple of weeks with my dignity intact — assuming that was still possible.

The other two both looked faintly amused, but to give him credit, the short, thin guy's smile was kind. "Sorry about him," Trevor Turner said, unfolding his arms and moving forward to offer me a handshake. "He's not too fond of me either, and I must say I'm a pretty harmless sort of predator. Well, for a deer, anyway."

It was hard to think of Peter even nominally as a predator, and unnerving to say the least that Kirk could tell I'd been sleeping with him. At least, I hadn't had sex with anyone else, so what else could he mean? And did every shifter I'd met here know?

"I have a terrible sense of smell," Trevor assured me as he pumped my hand.

He was a slim-boned, bright-eyed fellow who looked sprightly and young from a distance, but up close had spidery lines around his eyes and smile that marked him as closer to my age, or possibly even a bit older. He had flyaway brown hair, a prominent nose, and a lot of strength in his grip.

"Wanna guess what I am?" His eyes sparkled in a teasing, high-energy way.

"Um..."

The third guy, Conrad Willitz, snorted loudly and rolled his eyes. "Just tell him, dork. Don't make everything into a game. You told me right away."

"Yeah, but I don't know what kind of predator he's into yet," Trevor said, a cheeky little smirk crossing his thin lips. He released my hand — eventually. "Fox or wolf?" he said. "Or something more exotic? Are you here to taste all the flavors of the rainbow?"

I felt my neck heating up. "Um. No."

He raised his hands. "Okay. Not important. Do you really not want to guess what I am?" He tilted his head slightly, looking curious and a bit disappointed.

I really didn't.

"He's a hawk," supplied Conrad. "A tiny little Cooper's hawk."

Trevor's grin widened. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a medium-sized hawk. With very fine feathers." Conrad's words didn't seem to have bothered him.

"And how do you two know each other?" I would've guessed he was another shifter, perhaps some larger bird of prey. Conrad looked as fierce as Trevor didn't.

"That would be telling." Trevor winked broadly and laid a finger against his prominent nose.

I watched Conrad go slowly and brightly red. He coughed into his hand. "Got here a day early, that's all. We talked."

"And slept together," Trevor informed me. "He's nice. Sweeter than he looks. Non-shifter. 10/10, would recommend."

"Oh my godddd." Conrad covered his face with his hands and walked away, his shoulder bumping into the doorway as he exited the bedroom.

I eyed Trevor disapprovingly. "Wow. Cold." I definitely wouldn't want such a blabbermouth for a partner. Didn't he know better than to fuck and tell?

"He deserves it for calling me small." Trevor tossed his head a little, his eyes hard and less sparkly than they'd been a moment ago. "So, who? One of the foxes? I really can't tell. No real sense of smell, to be honest. I have great hearing and eyesight, though." He made his eyes bigger and tried to look appealing. It wasn't difficult for him; he'd clearly had way too much practice.

"You're trouble," I said, taking a step back.

"Yep." He took one towards me, his grin big. "Bigtrouble. Want a taste?"

"No, uh, I have s-someone back home. My boyfriend." Would Peter mind me calling him that? I had a feeling that under the circumstances, he'd understand.

"Oooh! Aboyfriend!" He clapped his hands together once, theatrically. "I guess you won't want to sample the wing meat, then." He ran his fingers lightly down my chest.

I stepped back again.