Page 57 of Whispers of Wisteria

“Yes,” I managed, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s very… you.”

His face lit up, and he placed my hand into the crook of his arm as he walked me through the sliding glass doors and past the doorman.

His tense form relaxed as we approached the silver elevator, and once we were inside, he twisted his fingers in mine. Once we got to the top floor, we traveled down another hallway until we stood before a light oak doorway.

It was only after Titus pulled me into the room that my apprehension began.

I pressed my hands to my burning cheeks and shook my head. Whatwas I doing? We’d only just been on our first official date yesterday, andnow we were alone together in his fancy, private office.

I’d read enough boy-on-boy romances to know how this might play out. A brooding, wealthy CEO always seduced the innocent, sunshine office worker. But Titus would have more morals, I was sure. He would certainly not toss me onto his extremely sturdy-looking, tidy desk and kiss me breathless before it all faded to black.

In fact, he was far from being a dark, brooding antihero with multiple secrets.

Wasn’t he?

“Titus Ducharme!” Maria’s furious shout rang through the room. “Where have youbeensince yesterday?How dare you leave…” She’d stormed through an attached doorway, and her tirade trailed off as she spotted me waving stupidly at her.

“Bianca!” Her perky—but angry—face shone bright red, and she glared at Titus. The dragon smirked and led me to the desk that had held my fascination only seconds before.

“Youass,” she told him.

I slowly lowered my still-raised hand back to my side.

“Not you,” Titus told me, guiding me to sit in the light leather chair. “Maria’s upset because I skipped a boring meeting yesterday afternoon.”

“Boring meeting?” The embarrassment dropped from her face, and she narrowed her blazing eyes at him. “I worked for weeksto set that up.” Her attention returned to me, and her features softened into a polite smile. “Hello, Bianca. I’m happy to see you.”

Was she, though?

My heart was breaking, though I was sure neither shifter could tell. I was an expert in hiding these things, after all. But I’d thought we might be friends, even going so far as to ignore that lingering feeling in my gut that tried to convince me that she didn’t like me.

“I need to get to work,” Titus said as he removed his jacket and laid it across his desk. “Maria, can you take Bianca down to the café?”

Maria stepped back, dropping her clipboard to her side as she stared at the dragon.

Yes, it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with me.

My skin burned, and I sank further down into my seat. I was too ashamed to show any indignation at the insinuation that he needed to make arrangements for me.

I didn’t want playdates. I wantedfriends.

An image of the boys crossed my thoughts, and I pressed my hands to my cheeks as I shook my head, willing the reminder away.

They didn’t count as friends—not platonic ones. It was easy to admit, at least sometimes, that whatever this weird relationship was going on between us, it wasn’t the same as good old-fashioned girl-on-girl friendship.The boysdidn’t want to get manicures with me, although Titus did enjoy doing my hair.

And there was also my lingering fear that I might have to admit that Bryce was right about one thing at least. It was becoming dangerous to wear my usual nightclothes around them. Damen, for example, stared in the most unnerving ways.

So soon, slumber parties between us might have to be taken off the table too.

This was just the worst.

“O-okay!” she replied, and the stunned look finally dropped from her open-mouthed expression. She pulled the clipboard to her chest, glancing at me only once before she fidgeted. “Let me just get my stuff.”

Maria satdown across from me, Jack and Coke in hand, as she glared around the room.

I wasn’t going to ask why there was a fully stocked bar here. It was probably normal for shifters. I was still unfamiliar with their biology, but my pirated werewolf comics had theorized that shifters metabolize alcohol and drugs differently than everyone else.

Maybe it wasn’t weird that they drank on the job—they’d probably never gotten drunk ever in their lives.