Page 30 of Ethan

“Don’t make it a thing,” I pointed out.

Carter chuckled. “Alright. So? What’s he like?”

“Snarky,” I muttered. “Annoying. He’s always scowling at me. He thinks I’m an idiot.”

“But you like him,” Carter pointed out.

I closed my eyes and smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

“So what’s the problem?” Carter demanded.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted. “He made me a sandwich when I said I was homesick. Banana and mayo. Like the ones you used to make.”

Carter let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s weirdly romantic.”

“I know,” I muttered.

A pause.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m an expert on romance,” Carter said grandly. “Want advice?”

I rolled my eyes but said, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“Tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

I gave him the rundown. Our first awkward meeting, the healing, the coffees, the patrol with Griffin, all the way to the sandwich.

Carter listened without interrupting, though I could practically hear him grinning through the phone.

“You’re coming on strong,” Carter said when I finished. “And I get it. You’re a wolf. You feel things hard. But if he’s not a shifter, or even if he is and just isn’t used to that energy, it can be a lot.”

I sighed. “So what? I should back off?”

“Not back off. Just slow your roll a little. Give him space to breathe. Let him come to you too. Otherwise, he might feel like you’re trying to bulldoze him into a connection,” Carter said.

“That’s hard,” I groaned.

“I know,” Carter said, not unkindly. “But if he’s worth it, it’ll be worth the wait.”

I lay in the quiet of my room, staring up at the ceiling again.

He was worth it. Every awkward word, every failed coffee, every rough moment where I didn’t know how to be the version of myself I wanted to be. He was worth all of it.

“I’ll try,” I said softly.

Carter laughed. “That’s the best I can ask for.”

“Thanks, big bro,” I said.

“Anytime, little idiot.”

I ended a call with Carter smiling.

I woke up with sunlight slanting through the blinds and the vague sensation that I was already behind on something.

My internal clock buzzed with mild panic until I remembered: I didn’t have training with Griffin for a couple of hours. Miraculous.

Stretching, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, the cotton blanket twisted around my legs. My body still ached from yesterday’s drills, which was nothing new.