7

BROOKE

If I didn’t think so before, then last night’s run-in with him certainly cemented it- Theo Jacobsen is a pig. Who the heck gets a handjob in a public place? And he had the nerve to ask for privacy, like I was the one being rude? Who the hell does he think he is?

On Sunday morning, I head out for a run after breakfast. I don’t consider myself the sporty type like my twin is, but endurance has always been my jam. Running helps me clear my head, get centered. The endorphins don’t suck, either.

The wolf inside of me is also particularly wily. It’s a struggle to keep her at bay, but running helps. Just getting out in nature appeases her, tiring out my body quiets her.

I try to stick to my typical forest paths so I don’t get lost. I’m a terrible navigator. When I first moved to the complex almost two months ago, I got lost a few times on my runs. I had to shift and allow my wolf to lead me back, which sadly resulted in the loss of several t-shirts and pairs of leggings. Even my favorite sports bra. When I tried to go back out and look for it another day, I only wound up lost again.

Shifter life.

I’d guess I’ve covered about two miles when I spot something just off the forest path ahead. It looks like wadded up fabric and the closer I get, the more excited I am, because I’m hoping I’ve stumbled upon something I lost in the past.

I skid to a stop, hopping off the path to stoop down and grab one of the pieces of clothing, shaking it out and holding it up.

Dang. It isn’t mine- it’s a charcoal grey men’s t-shirt. Size large.

I’m startled by the sound of twigs snapping and I draw a short gasp, whipping around to identify the source of the noise. My breath hitches when I see what it is- standing across the path from me is a giant, silver wolf.

He stares back, shaking out his fur. He’s magnificent. So large, so sleek. I forget to breathe.

Suddenly, the air around the wolf shimmers, body rearranging with his shift. The silver wolf recedes, and in his place crouches a large, muscular figure. The last person I wanted or expected to see this morning.

Theo.

He rises to stand, eyes burning into mine. And he’s…

Completely naked.

Holy frick. I’ve never seen a body like his up close. The sight of it immediately makes my cheeks flush, makes me break out in a cold sweat.

Every inch of Theo’s body is covered in hard muscle, from his broad shoulders to his thick biceps to his corded forearms. One of his arms has a sleeve of tribal tattoos, winding from his shoulder to his wrist. His pecs are smooth, save for a smattering of dark hair, and his abdominals dip and curve to form an eight-pack. His Adonis belt points in a V to his… huge member. Like huge, huge.

Oh my…

“Hey, kid,” Theo drawls, cracking a smile.

My face heats and I spin around, putting my back to him.

The sight of his body does something to mine. There’s a heat, a pulsing between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to will it away.

“Wh… what… what are you doing out here?” I stutter, staring down at the ground. I’m so embarrassed. I wish I could disappear.

“I could ask you the same question,” he chuckles.

I hear Theo striding toward me. My heart races. I feel him prowl right up behind me, leaning down to grab for a pair of athletic shorts by my feet. I hop out of the way, and in my peripheral vision I can see him slide them on, shimmy them up over his hips.

“I… I was going for a run,” I manage, chancing another glance his way. His junk is covered up, but he’s still shirtless, all of that gorgeous toned muscle on display.

“Will you put on a shirt?” I ask through gritted teeth.

Theo chuckles again- a low, throaty laugh that makes my belly do somersaults.

“I mean, I would but…”

“But what?” I snap, finally turning to face him.

Theo shakes his head, a devilish smile across his face as he reaches one of those burly arms up and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Well you’re holding it.”

My eyes fly wide and I look down to find that I’m still clutching that charcoal grey t-shirt tightly in my hands.

I throw it at him like it’s on fire and he snatches it out of the air, still chuckling as he shakes it out and slips it on.

The shirt doesn’t help calm my nerves, not now that I know what his body looks like underneath. The shirt’s tight, dipping and curving with the well-defined muscle beneath the fabric.

I try to come up with something to say, anything to say, but all I can manage is “are you stalking me or something?”

Theo rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his t-shirt strain against his biceps. “Now why would I be stalking you, kid? I was out for a run, same as you.”

Oh. Well that makes sense.

Still, I’m annoyed by his interruption of what was supposed to be a leisurely run. I’m annoyed by the way he keeps calling me ‘kid’. I wanted to come out here to clear my head, and now it’s scrambled.

An awkward pause settles between us before Theo speaks up again.

“Did you have fun last night?”

The question catches me a little bit off guard. I figured he’d pretend he didn’t see me last night, not be so brazen to bring it up. Then again, it’s Theo.

“Not as much as you,” I scoff.

 He cocks an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

“What?” My eyes fly wide. Is he crazy? “No.”

“You sure, kid?” Theo smirks.

The nerve of this guy!

I want to wipe the smirk right off of his face. Instead, I stare down at the ground.

“That would imply that I want anything to do with you, which I don’t,” I grumble, folding my arms and kicking at the dirt.

“Come on,” Theo coaxes, his voice as smooth as silk. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

My eyes fly up to meet his again. “No way.”

“Liar.”

I glare at him.

“Trust me, you’re not my type,” I hiss.

Theo cocks his head to the side, his eyebrow arching again. “Oh, Brooke Eastwick has a type? Go on, hit me with it.”

I roll my eyes, kicking at the ground again. “I like nice guys.”

“I’m not a nice guy?”

I stifle a laugh. “Nice guys don’t get handjobs in public.”

Theo shrugs, unruffled. “Fair enough. But let me let you in on a secret, no guy wants to be called nice.”

“And why is that?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘nice guys finish last’? Nice guys never get the girl.”

“Yes they do,” I scowl. “Some girls like nice guys.”

Theo shakes his head, a mocking smile on his lips. “Nah. At the end of the day, even the nice girls want the bad boy.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. Talking to this guy is pointless.

Apparently, he takes my silence as an admission. “You do, don’t you?” Theo teases.

“What?” I scrunch up my nose in disgust. “You? No. Absolutely not.”

“Please,” he scoffs. “I saw the way you were looking at me when I shifted. Like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

My jaw drops at his lewd comment, eyes thrown wide.

Theo pauses, eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute, have you never seen a dick before?”

“I’m a shifter,” I blurt. “Of course I’ve seen a… you know what.”

Theo laughs, throwing his head back. “Oh my god, you can’t even say it!”

My face flushes hot and I squeeze my arms tighter across my chest. I wish the ground would open up underneath my feet and swallow me whole.

Theo’s still chuckling when he returns his gaze to mine. “Have you ever touched one?”

“Shut up!” I yell. The anger rising in my chest is bringing my wolf forward- she’s agitated, ready to tear through.

“Calm down, I’m just messing with you. I mean, I already pegged you as a virgin.”

If looks could kill, Theo would be a goner. I stare daggers through him, gnawing on the inside of my cheek as I feel the sting of tears forming behind my eyes. The frickin’ nerve of this guy!

“Goodbye, Theo,” I huff, turning away from him and stomping back on the path.

“Wait… come on, I was messing around!” he calls after me, but I don’t look back and he doesn’t follow.

Angry, embarrassed tears spill down my cheeks as I take off in a sprint back in the direction of the squad complex, away from Theo, away from his nasty comments.

He’s nothing but a jerk. An alpha-hole. A DICK.

~

THEO

I can’t stop thinking about that interaction with Brooke in the forest. I was just ribbing her a little, I didn’t mean to actually upset her. It’s not like me to have a crisis of conscience, but… she looked like she was gonna cry.

I don’t know why I feel so shitty about it, why I’m letting it bother me. I’m laying in bed, scrolling through the Spotify playlist she sent me, when something occurs to me- I have her number. She texted me the playlist from her phone.

I navigate to my messages, finding the one with the Spotify link. After saving it into my contacts, I open a new message and… have a staring contest with my phone for the next five minutes.

Fuck, what am I gonna say to her?

Sorry for calling you a virgin?

I settle on something simple.

Theo: Hey kid

I stare at the screen for a full two minutes before I follow it up with another.

Theo: It’s Theo

I keep staring at the screen, the minutes dragging on. Maybe she’s asleep. I toss my phone down onto my bed, stare at the ceiling.

Then it vibrates next to me.

I lunge for it, swiping to unlock it, blinking at her reply.

Brooke: Hi.

Well that was certainly short and sweet.

I heave a sigh.

Now what?

Theo: Just wanted to say I didn’t mean to upset you today.

The little bubble shows up that indicates she’s typing, then disappears. Then pops back up, then goes away again. I groan, tugging at my hair as I await her response.

Brooke: Is that supposed to be an apology?

I groan again, typing out another message.

Theo: FINE, I’m sorry. I was just joking around.

She makes me wait several minutes before she responds again.

Brooke: It doesn’t feel good to be the butt of someone else’s joke.

Theo: Butt. Heh.

Brooke: You’re immature.

Theo: So I’m told.

She doesn’t send any response, and I rack my brain trying to think of something, anything to say. I’m at a loss, so after about ten minutes, I just toss my phone back on my bed.

I don’t even know why I apologized. I can’t remember the last time I apologized to anyone, for anything.

I feel marginally better, though. Less shitty. Maybe she does, too.