Chapter 3 Warren #2
“I’d like to take you out on a date.” Marcus brushed the knuckles of his other hand over Warren’s cheek. “Tonight.”
Warren stared at him, his mind blank.
“Say yes.”
It was a command, but issued playfully. Marcus’s grin softened, and Warren wondered if he’d imagined the predatory edge from a second ago.
“Okay,” Warren said, his palms sweating and his mouth feeling way too small for the size of his tongue.
What was happening?
“Good boy. Give me your phone.”
Obeying without thinking about it, Warren handed over his phone. Marcus’s grin widened to show off a pair of truly terrifying canines. He turned the phone around so that Warren’s face would unlock it. “Smile.”
Warren’s lips pulled up in a smile that was pure reflex, his phone unlocking.
Marcus turned the screen back around and made quick work of adding his contact information, and presumably sending himself Warren’s number. At least that was what Warren thought the pling he heard from Marcus’s pocket was.
Marcus handed Warren’s phone back to him. “I’ll pick you up at five. I got your address from your contact card. Don’t worry about dressing up too nice.”
Warren nodded, his breath hitching when he saw that his phone had been set to share his location with Marcus.
Who did that?
He’d also taken a selfie and added it to his contact information. The picture was taken from below.
It was unfair that someone could look that good from an under-the-chin angle.
“I look forward to our date.” Marcus cupped Warren’s cheek.
His hand was scorching hot and huge against the side of Warren’s face, and the feel of it had Warren frozen in place.
Marcus’s thumb stroked over Warren’s mouth, making his brain short-circuit entirely.
Marcus let his thumb linger against Warren’s lips, and Warren was just about to open his mouth and let it inside – right there in public with everyone watching – when Marcus took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. “Be good.”
With that, Marcus turned around and walked out of the café, leaving Warren frozen in place and staring after him in open-mouthed shock.
He hadn’t been this caught off guard since… well, since two days ago when Harland Hill had put him on his knees and lifted him into his lap to make out with him.
Marcus hadn’t ordered anything, Warren realized with a start. Had he crossed the atrium and come into the cafe just to ask him out? He wondered if he’d suddenly started producing werewolf-attracting pheromones.
A woman standing next to him shook her head and shot him a grimaced smile. “Damn. That was intense. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Warren said.
He looked down at his phone and realized with a jolt of indignation that the location sharing was not mutual. Just as he was about to push the button to stop sharing his location with the strange and scarily intense werewolf, he hesitated.
It wasn’t like he was going anywhere he was embarrassed about. He’d turn it off later.
Then, with a surge of exhilaration, he sent off a request for Marcus’s location in return. He didn’t want to come across as entirely spineless.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Warren looked around and realized that everyone in the café was staring at him. He blushed, his face hot, and fled the scene with his blended iced mocha.
He made it to class with time to spare.
After the lecture, Warren packed up his laptop and followed the stream of students out of the lecture hall.
He checked his phone and saw that he had a message from Josh letting him know that he wouldn’t be able to make it to lunch.
Apparently, Josh had forgotten that he’d already made plans to spend the afternoon working with his group from the Microeconomics for Managers course on their group project.
Warren wasn’t too disappointed. Now he could delay telling Josh about his date until it had actually happened.
There was also a notification that Marcus Miller had accepted his location-sharing request. Warren grinned, feeling a rush of vindication for standing up for himself.
His plans with Josh now out the window, Warren debated what he wanted to do.
He had another lecture in two hours, followed by a discussion group, and if he spent the time between now and his next lecture studying, then he would have time for his date with Marcus without falling behind on his study plan.
Zipping his coat all the way up and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Warren made his way outside. He’d have lunch and study at the same time, he decided.
A blast of cold wind hit him in the face and he set off to his favorite coffee shop.
Listening to the rest of his podcast as he walked, Warren had almost arrived when he spotted a young teenager waiting for the bus across the street. The kid had a huge backpack and a fluffy hat, but he wasn’t wearing a coat or gloves, and the zipped-up hoodie he had on was not nearly warm enough.
Warren took out his earbuds and approached.
“Did you lose your coat?” he asked, trying to sound friendly.
The teen looked at him like he was a weirdo. When Warren just waited, the unfriendly look intensified.
“Fuck off, dude.”
Warren looked down at the teen’s duct-taped shoes and suppressed a grimace. He remembered being a teenager and wearing shoes like that.
“You can have mine,” he said, unable to help himself. He shrugged off his backpack and took off his coat, holding it out to the teen after emptying out the pockets. They were about the same size.
The teen made no move to accept it, taking a step back instead. “I never said I wanted your fucking coat, pervert.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a weirdo and you didn’t ask for this. Take the coat. You’re cold and it’s free.”
Warren tossed the coat at him.
“Fucking freak,” the teen grumbled, catching Warren’s coat but making no move to put it on.
That was fine. Warren was happy he hadn’t let it fall to the ground. He could get fifty coats at Goodwill for what Hill had tipped him.
“Take care,” Warren said, leaving before he made the poor kid any more uncomfortable with his weirdness.
“Pervert psycho,” the teen muttered, holding the coat under his arm and pointedly not putting it on.
Warren smiled to himself. He would have reacted exactly the same way, back when he was that age.
Rushing now that he didn’t have a coat to shield himself from the freezing wind, Warren made his way to the coffee shop and breathed out a sigh of relief when he stepped into the wonderfully warm interior.
The shop was busy, but not too busy, the noise of people talking and the soothing background music making the perfect ambiance for studying. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries filled the air and Warren’s stomach rumbled.
Taking off his scarf, hat and mittens and stuffing them into his bag, Warren got in line to order. He'd have soup and an iced latte, he decided. That way he could drink his lunch straight from the bowl and not have to worry about cutlery.
After ordering – which he had to do through the app because he still couldn’t find his wallet – Warren brought his soup and iced latte over to an armchair in the corner, right under a vent gushing out a continuous stream of hot air.
It was perfect. Setting his iced coffee and soup down on the table, Warren grabbed his book and highlighter out of his bag.
Drinking his lunch and iced coffee, Warren spent the next hour and a half having a very productive study session. He felt like he had a firm grasp on the chapter for his discussion group the next day, and he even managed to read ahead and go over the concepts he needed to know for the final.
Packing up, he glanced out the window. It had started to snow a little, and he was not looking forward to the walk back to campus. It would only take him about ten minutes, but ten minutes when it was freezing and windy was miserable. He could take an Uber, but that just seemed like such a waste.
There was a Goodwill store about five minutes from the coffee shop, in the opposite direction from campus, over by the fire station. If Warren rushed, he should be able to go there, buy himself a coat, and then make it back to campus in time for his lecture.
His mind made up, Warren put on his scarf, mittens, and hat and walked outside.
“Have a nice day!” one of the baristas called out as he exited, smiling at him.
“You too!”
As soon as he was outside, Warren started up a half-jog. The wind was awful, whipping into his face and making him wince, but with his long underwear, flannel shirt and wool sweater, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
He rounded a corner, just a block away from the Goodwill, only to have to come to a screeching halt to prevent himself from crashing into a wall of muscle.
“Excuse me-”
“Sorry-”
Warren and the wall both spoke at the same time. Recognizing the voice, Warren looked up – and then up some more – and was startled to see Max staring down at him with an equally surprised expression.
“Warren!” Max exclaimed, grinning wide and showing off his sharp canines.
He was dressed in black tactical pants, sturdy black boots, and the same bomber jacket he’d worn the last time Max had seen him.
“I wasn’t expecting to run into you!” His eyes narrowed and his grin flipped. “Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”
“Hi, Max,” Warren said, overwhelmed by Max’s enthusiasm and familiarity. He wrapped his arms around himself and clamped his jaw shut so that he wouldn’t chatter his teeth. “It’s nice to see you. I’m on my way to the Goodwill to buy one.”
Before he’d finished talking, Max had unzipped his bomber jacket, stepped forward, and pulled Warren up against his front.
“Oh, this isn’t necessary-”
Max zipped the jacket up behind his back, trapping Warren tight against his rock-hard abs and the bulge in his pants.
“You’ll get sick,” Max chided.