“Put your clothes back on.”
“You see your brothers naked.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, wow. You really need to not say that outside of this house. And now that I’m thinking about it, don’t say it inside this house either.”
“Why?”
“Because it sounds weird.”
“It’s true.”
“I know that, but other people won’t understand.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, almost like he was pouting. “People know about wolves here.” He made it sound like I was the idiot.
“Still doesn’t mean you can tell them that. Werewolves are one thing. Nudity is something else entirely. It’s—why are you still naked.”
“Itchy. Clothes itchy.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was still wearing Kelly’s jeans, and even though I hated having them on in bed, I wasn’t quite sure I could trust myself to take them off while he stood there in all his glory. The universe had a terrible sense of humor, putting us together. “You have to put on clothes if you’re going to stay human.”
“Fine.”
I took my hands off my face and saw him shift back to a wolf. He shook himself before he turned to the bed, laying his head on the mattress, eyes wide as he stared at me. “Oh no. You can stay on the floor. I’m finally in my bed again, and I’m going to stretch—stop it!”
He growled at me as he bit down on the leg of my jeans. He started tugging them off, almost pulling me down to the floor. The jeans slid from my hips. He got them half off before he started on the other leg. He jerked his head again, and I threw my pillow at him.
From somewhere below, I heard Gordo say, “Maybe we should have left them in Minnesota. We need to soundproof that room so I don’t have to hear if they start screwing. I’m already scarred enough as i
t is.”
“Fuck you, Gordo!” I shouted. “I’m not going to—Gavin, you’re ripping my pants off!”
Gordo sighed deeply.
Gavin looked pleased with himself, holding my pants in his mouth. He shook his head side to side, letting them flap around his head before he dropped them on the floor. He put his front paws up on the bed. I tried to kick him off, demanding that he stay on the floor. But he was a three-hundred-pound timber wolf, and he was apparently going to do whatever the hell he wanted. He climbed up and over me, his back paw nearly squashing my junk before he settled on my legs, turning so he faced the door. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.
“Get off me.”
He didn’t react.
I tried to move my legs. I couldn’t. “Gavin, I mean it.”
He opened one eye scornfully.
“Move.”
He growled and closed his eye again.
“Fine. Whatever. Do what you want. I don’t care.”
He huffed out a breath like he thought I was full of shit. Which, to be fair, I pretty much was, but I still had to save face somehow.
I closed my eyes again, planning on resting just for a moment until I could clear my head.
A moment later I was asleep.
My dreams were green, and I ran with wolves.