Page 28 of The Time It Takes

I decided to wax poetic. "A lot of people are like that. They've got one idea about how the world works, but when they meet people who make them challenge that view, eventually they adjust and grow. It might be tough in the middle, but it's not hopeless. Yeah, we want everyone to be accepting, but people are complicated, and there are a lot of them who live in the middle. They're not loving and accepting, but they're also not evil and hateful—just ignorant. They can grow."

He gave me a lopsided smile that looked a little tearful. "That's a really nice thought. I like that." He turned back to the screen quickly, trying to cover his emotions by acting busy and focused. I let him. It meant so much to him. I wished I'd found a way to say it sooner.

And I hoped it was true.

Whatever the case, whether the pack took is easy or took it hard, I'd be by his side and make sure he didn't get treated like dirt for finding love.

He deserved to be happy, and nobody, even his pack, was going to stand in the way, not if I had anything to say about it.

#

Things moved on. Arliedidn't keep me up to date—not really—but he did mention once or twice that he'd started looking for guys on the apps, or that he'd been chatting with a guy online he might be interested in. He didn't tell me when he went on dates; he didn't tell me if he was having sex.

Arlie seemed content, maybe even happy. I wondered how it was for him, finally giving in and exploring that side of himself he'd been trying to push down.

Obviously, it was none of my business. The sex part would be clear to the pack, when it happened, but not to me. I didn't have that kind of sensory perception. I wondered if it would be more or less complicated if you knew when people were into you, and if you knew when other people were having sex. I mean not from context clues, but from an almost supernatural sense of smell that always got to the root of things.

"Not always," Arlie had told me once. "Attraction is more complicated than that. But sex, yeah. You can always tell."

Was that part of what made wolves so loyal, so ride-or-die, mate-for-life in tune with their partners? Because there was no option of cheating and getting away with it? I didn't think that could be the entire truth, but maybe it was part of it, or had helped develop how wolf shifter culture and ideas about relationships worked.

I didn't want to get stuck thinking about it, so I went on the apps myself and tried to craft a profile that would attract the sort of woman I wanted. I wanted a relationship that felt something like a dance, or a nice long swim. I didn't want to jump in feet first, but I also didn't want to wade in the shallows. If I was going to date, I wanted something good and real, something that could happen naturally, without rush, and that could last and not hurt. But I hung back from ever taking the final step on any of the apps and actually putting myself out there. I didn't go on any dates, and at last had to tell myself I just wasn't ready, or something.

I kept going to therapy.

I still had weird dreams. Sometimes Arlie was in them, mostly he wasn't. A lot of the time, it seemed like I was alone in a gray fog, stumbling over uneven ground, trying to find a path—any path—and a way out of the fog. A bit too on the nose, I guess. But anyway, I kept going to the therapy.

I didn't tell Arlie I was a bit jealous and worried that I'd lose time with him when he found someone. I wasn't ready for that conversation. But if work hours weren't enough for me, and time working out, and carpooling together, and activities we did with the pack, we still had our movie nights twice a week. He wasn't showing any signs of wanting more time away from me. Him taking a couple of hours a week to go on dates wasn't exactly cutting into our time together.

That would change, I knew, if he got serious. He'd move in with some guy. Find somewhere else to live, maybe. Close to the pack, but not in just one room in a townhouse. Maybe they wouldn't eat with the pack every day, and I'd miss him. But I'd still get to work with him, and as long as I could stand his boyfriend, I'd probably be welcome in other areas of his life as well.

What if I hated Arlie's boyfriend? What if he hatedme?

Could I stand it, if the guy Arlie chose looked down on me like Darby had, held me in contempt for things I didn't know I was doing wrong and probably couldn't change even if I wanted to? It was a dark thought, and I shouldn't think it. Arlie was probably better at picking guys than I was at picking girls. But whoever he picked, they were going to have opinions about me, and about how close Arlie and I were. I'd just have to hope there wasn't a lot of judgment involved.

All of this was theoretical—until the day he asked me if I would be willing to meet "a guy he'd been seeing."

"I want your opinion of him before I go any further," he told me, looking chagrinned at having to put it into words. Did he mean sex? He wanted my opinion of this guy before he took the next step? If the step wasn't sex, what was it?

I stared at him and realized he was waiting for my answer. "Uh, sure. I'd be glad to meet him. But I doubt I'll have any insights you don't have. You're the one with the shifter senses."

"Yeah, and you know my track record with finding someone I fit with," he responded.

"Well, you know mine, too."

He gave me a commiserating pat on the shoulder. "I'm happy to have your input about who I see, if it gives me a better chance of making good choices. And I'd be very, very happy to offer my opinions about anybody you date in the future—if you're willing to hear it."

I laughed, because really. Was this just a complicated way of making sure he had a say in who I dated next? "I don't know. I definitely want your thoughts, but you don't get veto power." If I really liked someone, I wasn't sure I'd even want his opinion. But again, that seemed far off.

"Well, you have veto power for me. I'm not risking my status in the pack if he's not a good enough match that you don't even like him."

"Really?" It didn't seem like I should have that much say in his choices. "Well, I don't want to have veto power over your life. I'll just tell you my thoughts, okay?"

"Sure, that works." He gave me a smile, and clapped me on the shoulder.

I was left with the uncomfortable feeling that my opinion mattered a lot more than it should. If I didn't like this guy, I'd better keep it to myself unless I had a damned good reason for not liking him.

I didn't want to ruin Arlie's chance at happiness.