Chapter 5 Naomi
FIVE
NAOMI
First Bites
“It’s just a date, it’s just a date, it’s just a date,” I chanted as I fixed my hair. I’d tried to do heatless curls overnight, but apparently, I’d been tossing and turning a lot, because I’d woken up with a bird’s nest instead of effortless waves.
Ugh.
Thankfully, it wasn’t something a good pomade, a brush, and a hairdryer couldn’t fix, but it was taking more time than I would have liked. I still needed to do my makeup.
I didn’t consider makeup a must, though I liked getting glammed up when the occasion called for it. And right now, as I stared at my plain-faced reflection, I was feeling a lot more self-conscious about my appearance than I usually did.
I looked too wolfy.
I had no clue what that even meant. Going on a date with a human had me wondering if my magical side was noticeable—even if every shifter I met would probably argue that I didn’t have a magical side to notice.
“Let’s not go down that road,” I reminded myself as I refocused.
But as soon as I felt like I got a good hold on my thoughts, I glanced down and noticed how hairy my arms were.
Was that within the normal range of hairy for a human woman or did my limbs scream werewolf?
Should I wear long sleeves? Should I shave?
I hated shaving. Enough that I’d tried electrolysis when I was younger, but it turned out I had just the right amount of shifter healing ability that the process didn’t work on me.
A complete waste of money. I kept telling myself that one day, I’d stop shaving entirely, but I hadn’t been quite brave enough to take that leap yet.
It was almost like a consolation prize in a way.
Like “Hey, sorry I’m lacking an intrinsic part of being a wolf shifter, but look at my smooth shave! ”
My phone buzzed, interrupting my growing anxiety, and I snatched it up. Just as I’d hoped, it was a text from the man of the hour, CozyCardigan1913. Rowan.
Never in a million years had I expected my first match on a human dating app to result in an actual date, but the guy had charmed me.
He was a little stilted, but not enough for it to be awkward.
In fact, it made me feel quite a bit better because I was less self-conscious about being so out of my depth.
If he was too smooth, it would have been a turn-off.
He’d sent a gif of a cute cat clapping its paws in excitement. Yet another thing I never expected. It wasn’t that I disliked cats, not at all. I was just solidly—and perhaps obviously—a dog person, while Rowan was a cat guy through and through. A rare find, yes, but I took it as another green flag.
After the gif, he sent: Looking forward to seeing you soon! Be safe!
I grinned to myself, swiping back to look at his picture yet again.
Although we hadn’t talked a lot, we’d talked enough that I knew he loved music, cardigans, and the aforementioned cats while also being relatively funny and easy to talk to.
Not having to explain that I was a latent shifter and dealing with all the questions that came from that made the entire process go so much faster.
We’d only been talking for two days on and off—two nights, really, given Rowan’s job—and we were already going on a date.
Nothing too serious, of course. Just ice cream and a walk in the park.
We were in the perfect, later half of summer, where it was cool enough not to be a sweaty mess after dark, but not so cool that ice cream would be uncomfortable.
Even as a wolfless wolf, I ran much hotter than most human females.
See you soon! I fired back.
I didn’t want to waste too much time on my hair, so I got it somewhat presentable before donning a sundress with sunflower print leggings, and a pair of boots that were dressy enough to be date-worthy but still quite comfortable to walk in. Believe me, I knew when shoes were good to walk in or not.
The rest of my routine went by in a flash, with my conscience flitting rapidly between feeling guilty for duping a hot human man who was no doubt eager to date a human female, excitement at the hint of chemistry we already had, and fear that everything would backfire, go down in flames, and also inadvertently expose the entirety of my species to a world that was never supposed to know that we existed.
So, no pressure.
But somehow, even with all of that going on, I still managed to pull up to the parking lot at the southern entrance of the park and give myself one last look in the rearview mirror.
Winged eyeliner? Check. Red lips? Check.
An undiagnosed anxiety disorder that was making my heart ricochet around my chest?
Possibly.
“Here goes nothing…” I murmured, pulling out my phone and shooting him a text to let him know I was here. Part of me was certain Rowan would have suddenly come to his senses and buzzed off to do something better, but a moment later, I got a response.
Rowan: Wonderful! I’m over where the sidewalk starts under the welcome gate.
Me: Awesome!
Goodness, he was such a gentleman. And not a false one, like the ones I was used to. But a real, genuinely nice and polite guy, who was fun to text with. There had to be something wrong with him.
Maybe he was a serial killer?
Shaking my head at my own musings, I tucked my phone into my sundress—it had pockets!—slung my water canteen over my shoulder, then got out of my car.
Across the way, a striking figure stood under the golden lights that illuminated the main path into the park.
Rowan. Over six feet tall, broad shoulders, and hair just as perfectly coiffed as it had been in the photos on his profile. Honestly, I needed to get his routine because he didn’t have an ounce of frizz despite the humidity.
“Naomi?” he asked as I got closer.
I swallowed hard. Even from several paces away, I could tell his photos weren’t a catfish in any interpretation of the word.
He had intense features—a strong jaw, high and wide cheekbones, a defiant, Roman nose.
Strange, his skin tone was a touch paler than mine and a little peachy, and yet he reminded me of actors like Oded Fehr and Sendhil Ramamurthy, maybe even a little Adrian Brody?
Even if it was an unusual mix, it worked for him.
Especially when his lips parted in a truly dazzling smile.
Holy shit, his teeth are white!
“In the flesh,” I said quickly—probably too quickly. Instead of getting wrapped up in my over-eagerness, I let it slide out from under me and kept the ball rolling. “Nice to officially meet you. I see your username rings true.”
“What’s tha—Oh! Haha, the cardigan. Yes,” the man looked down and chuckled softly.
He was wearing a breezy, linen button-up with a sleeveless, satiny hooded cardigan, complete with silver embroidery along the edges, over it.
Clearly, the man had style. “Should I be grateful you didn’t bring any wolves along? ”
“Huh?” I blurted, horror lancing through me before my brain caught up. My username was HowlingAloneTogether. Perhaps a bit on the nose, but I’d never exactly bragged about my creative abilities. “No, no wolves here. At all. Like ever. Just, uh, dogs! Lots of dogs! Cause, ya know, I’m a dog walker.”
“That you are,” he said with a nod, still smiling at me.
I hoped that meant that he was accepting my bizarre behavior as adorably quirky rather than socially inept.
Because one of those would take me quite a bit farther than the other.
“Speaking of walking, would you like to take a stroll with me? A certain lovely lady told me there was ice cream that is, I believe her exact quote was, ‘to die for’, over toward the promenade.”
Suddenly, I was a bit sheepish about my earlier enthusiasm, which made no sense since Rowan sounded quite genuine rather than mocking.
“Maybe ‘to die for’ might have been a bit of an exaggeration. I promise, no dairy-induced cardiac arrest is on the menu with all the lactose-free options they’ve got! ”
I remembered reading in his bio that he had a bit of an issue with dairy, so I’d double-checked with their online listing to make sure they had more than just one or two choices.
Although the truck didn’t have an official menu, it did have a list of all the flavors they tried to keep as regulars, as well as seasonal and limited-time concoctions.
But Rowan shrugged good-naturedly and shot me another one of those swoonworthy smiles. Jeez, he could be in Hollywood with that kind of star power. “Eh, I’ve had a good run of it. Succumbing to a frozen treat so delicious that it punctuates my existence sounds like one hell of a way to go.”
That startled a bark of laughter out of me, but instead of looking judgmental or even surprised at the sharp noise, Rowan looked pleased.
“And thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” I asked curiously.
“For remembering I’ve got a bit of beef with lactose. I really only put that in there as a throwaway comment.”
“I guess it stuck with me,” I said in what I hoped was a nonchalant tone. I was definitely not going to mention that I’d read through his bio and every questionnaire answer so many times I could practically recite them.
“I hope this isn’t too forward of me,” he said, turning slightly away from me and sort of pointing his elbow toward me. “But would you like to take my arm?” The corners of his eyes crinkled just so. “You know, to ward off any confectionary dangers or other delicious ways to perish.”
“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I said, though not as smoothly.
With our height difference, I’d thought it would be a bit awkward for me to loop my arm through his like that, but it was at the perfect level for me to cling to like we were in a romance movie.
Finally, after so many years doing without or begging for scraps, I was having a normal dating experience.
Minus the whole lying about being human thing. But what was a wolf or lack of a wolf between friends?