Chapter 22 Warren
WARREN
“Let me know if I can get you anything else, hot stuff. Anything you need.”
Warren stared at the waitress, wondering if this was real life.
Was he really sitting there, at eight in the morning on a Wednesday, watching his werewolf date be flirted with by a waitress who still hadn’t poured them their coffee and who seemed to believe that Warren didn’t exist as long as she made sure not to look at him?
Was he?
“Just the pancakes and bacon,” Warren said.
“Right,” Max agreed. “And some of those donuts over there. The ones with the chocolate.”
“You like it sweet, huh?”
“Yeah,” Max said, oblivious.
“Thank you,” Warren said, holding out his menu and knocking it into the waitress’s hip. “You can go now.”
The waitress – her nametag said that her name was Kelly – shot him a nasty glare before smiling at Max.
“I’ll be right back with your food.”
“And coffee, please?” Warren reminded her.
She looked down at their empty cups, realizing that she’d forgotten. “And coffee.”
She walked away, hips swaying. Warren had never considered this aspect of dating someone out of his league. People would hit on them and ignore him.
It had happened twice now.
Not that Warren wasn’t cute – he was, and he knew it – but he wasn’t six feet and nine inches, werewolf hot.
“She seemed nice,” Max said, taking a sip of his water.
Warren looked at him and wondered if he’d been dropped on his head as a baby.
“She liked you,” he said, not wanting to be mean but feeling spiteful.
“I guess,” Max said. He looked down at his front. “I’m glad they let us in. I’m not really dressed appropriately.”
Max was still wearing his tight leather pants, but with the shirt he’d grabbed from the back of his truck, it just looked like a slightly out-there fashion choice.
“You look fine,” Warren said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Just fine?” Max teased.
“You know you’re hot,” Warren said, blushing. “Don’t fish for compliments.”
Max reached out and knocked his boot into Warren’s ankle.
“But I love compliments.” He licked his lips. “Give me one.”
Warren’s face felt like it was going to catch on fire. He looked down, trying to think of something to say.
“You have nice hands.”
Max looked startled. “Really?” He held up his hands, turning them over and looking at them. “I mean, they’re big, but they’re kind of veiny, and I’ve got hair on my knuckles.”
Warren was very aware of all three of those facts.
“I know.”
Max looked up from his hands to Warren’s face, his eyes going wide at whatever Warren’s expression was doing. Then he smirked, putting his hands down flat on the table and shooting Warren a cocky grin.
“Nice. Okay. My turn.” He tapped his finger on the table, looking at Warren with an intent expression. “You have nice ears.”
“My ears?” Warren rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “What about them?”
“They’re cute,” Max said. “I like how they stick out a little. Next time we make out, I want to use them like little handles to hold you in place.”
Warren ignored the tight heat that curled in his belly at the idea of Max ‘holding him in place.’
“Be careful with them,” he said, reaching up to touch his left ear. “They used to stick out a lot more. I had them pinned back when I was a teenager.”
Max looked devastated. “Why would you do that?”
“Because people bullied me?” Warren laughed at the sad look on Max’s face. He was really hamming it up.
“That’s so sad.” Max shook his head. “Okay, I’ll do another one. You have a nice butt.”
“Thank you.” Warren blushed. He licked his lips. “So do you. Especially in those pants.”
Max hooked his feet around Warren’s ankles and leaned back against the booth, folding his hands over his stomach. He looked relaxed and sinfully hot.
Warren wished he could crawl under the table and burrow into the space between his legs.
“Was Harland right?” Max asked, biting his lip. “Do you have a fetish for leather?”
Warren whipped his head around to make sure that no one had heard Max’s question. The diner wasn’t busy, but that just meant that it was that much easier to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.
“No. I just think it looks nice.” He took a drink of water. “I don’t want to wear it myself. I think for it to be a fetish I’d have to get off on leather by itself, and I really don’t.”
“You’d look good in some tight leather pants,” Max said.
Warren blushed harder.
He would not. Max might think that he would – and wasn’t that sweet of him? – but Warren knew that if he put on a pair of leather jeans, he would look ridiculous.
“Agree to disagree.”
Spotting their waitress coming toward them with a tray of food, Warren was relieved.
“Here you go,” Kelly said, putting a plate stacked high with pancakes in front of Max, along with a little container of butter and a bottle of syrup.
She then set down a big plate of bacon next to it, before handing Warren a plate with a single, misshapen pancake on it. She kept looking at Max. “Enjoy!”
Max looked at Warren’s pancake and then at his own stack, frowning.
“I gave you some of his pancakes,” Kelly explained, leaning in and smiling. “You’re such a big boy.”
Max frowned. “That wasn’t necessary.” He scooped up a third of his stack and put it on Warren’s plate. “Could you get us our coffee? I think you forgot again.”
Kelly blushed, her mouth pulling down in a sour line. “Of course. I’ll be right back with that.”
“What was that about?” Max asked after she left, pushing the plate of bacon to the middle of the table.
“Well, she’s right,” Warren said, chuckling. “You are a big boy.”
Max rolled his eyes and shook his head. “That was inappropriate.”
Kelly came back with the coffee pot and poured them both a cup.
“Thank you,” Warren said, shooting her a huge smile.
She looked at him like he had crawled out from under her shoe. Warren didn’t understand what her problem was. She was pretty, but did she really think that she would get anywhere by being rude to the person Max was dining with?
“Thank you.”
Kelly took her leave and Warren started eating. Despite the attitude they were served with, the pancakes were as delicious as Max had promised.
As they ate, Warren and Max kept the topic of conversation light. Warren talked about his studies and the internship he’d had over the summer, while Max told him about how he’d become a firefighter. Then the topic of conversation moved to family.
“My parents tried contacting the werewolf council when I was a teenager, but they just brushed them off,” Max said, telling Warren about how hard it had been to control his instincts when he went through puberty.
“We figured it out in the end, but it was rough there for a couple of years. Later, my mom told me that they considered just driving me to a werewolf territory and asking the first werewolf they saw what to do.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“Reddit,” Max explained. “There’s not a lot of accurate info on werewolves on the internet – the council censors it – but there are some discussions that talk about how werewolves fight for dominance and about how packs will attack intruders.
They were worried I would be attacked instead of getting help. ”
“That must have been scary.” Warren put down his fork. He still had a pancake left, but he was stuffed. Max was still eating.
“Kind of? I got used to just ignoring my wolf. It kept telling me to do stuff that would get me in trouble – like bite people or fight with my teacher to put him in his place – and once I figured out how to tune it out, it was fine. Honestly, I don’t think I would have connected with my wolf if it hadn’t been for Harland. ”
“You really love him, huh?” Warren said.
“So much.” Max sighed. “Even though he’s a total dick.”
Warren laughed. “He doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Just wait,” Max said, shaking his head. “It won't be long until he does something so heavy-handed and obnoxiously controlling that you’ll want to stab him.”
“You’re not really selling me on the idea of being with him,” Warren warned.
“He’s rich as fuck, fantastic in bed, and he'll do anything in his power to make you happy.” Max leaned forward, catching Warren’s hand and rubbing his thumb over his palm. “The pros outweigh the cons. Trust me.”
“Okay.” Warren blushed.
“Here’s the check.” Kelly tossed the check down on the table and marched away.
Max stared at her retreating form with a bewildered expression.
“What’s her problem?”
“I think she just realized that we’re here together and not as friends.”
“Together,” Max repeated happily, still rubbing his thumb over Warren’s palm and forgetting all about the waitress. “I like the sound of that.”
After breakfast, Max drove Warren back to his apartment. He parked on the curb outside his building and shot Warren a hopeful look.
Despite the attitude from the waitress, the breakfast date had been really fun. Warren wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“Do you want to come up?” he asked, blushing. He kept his gaze turned to the side, unable to look Max in the eye.
Max grinned. “Absolutely.”
They climbed out of the truck and walked inside.
Max draped his arm across Warren’s shoulders and pulled him in close.
Inside, Max kicked off his boots and walked to the bathroom.
Without saying a word, he brushed his teeth with Warren’s toothbrush, winking at him through the open door and spitting.
When he was done, he stripped off his shirt and took a seat on the couch.
“I’ll just…” Warren’s heart raced. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, and then exited the bathroom to join Max on the couch.
Max intercepted him before he could sit. He wrapped his hands around Warren’s waist, moving him between his legs with a confident little grin, and lifted him up so that Warren could straddle his lap.