Nenna
Nenna's Book(1)
I can't believe you are mine
Others
It was a glorious, colorful autumn.
We’d just left the coffee shop. When we walked by, she had giggled and pulled me inside, saying, “C’mon, let’s be basic white girls and get some pumpkin spice!”
I don’t like coffee. I never had. But when she handed me my cup and looked into my eyes while I tried it, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
My hand still tingled where she grabbed it.
As we walked through the park with our drinks, a light drizzle began to fall. She pulled out an umbrella from her bag, I pulled up my hood and hunched my shoulders.
“Don’t be silly,” she giggled, pulling me under the umbrella with her. I couldn’t help but laugh too, her laugh is infectious.
As the sun started to shine again, she pulled me down to sit on a bench. She beamed down at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly.
“So Ava…” She began. I knew this tone of voice, it’s dangerous.
“Who do you like?” She whispered, and I looked away. I wanted to say, ‘you, you, a thousand times you. You’re the only one I can ever think about. You’re gorgeous and sweet and funny and…’
Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my cup.
She looked at me with a cautious smile. “If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”
“Okay.” I said.
“The person I like… …is you.”
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What in God’s name was that smell?
It wasn’t a bad smell, mused a slowly waking Taryn whose eyelids
were too heavy to lift. It sure didn’t belong in her bed though. Her sleep-
fogged brain was able to tell her three things. One, the smell was actually a
person’s scent – a most delicious scent; fresh pine, spring rain and cedar
wood. Two, the alluring scent belonged to a male. And three, that male was a
wolf shifter, just like her. Taryn Warner did not smuggle strange guys into
the pack house, even if they did smell delicious.
Forcing a droopy eye open, she peeked at the space beside her and was
able to confirm her suspicion that the mystery male was long gone. Swerving
her head – which felt unnaturally heavy – she peered at her alarm clock. Or,
at least, she would have done if it hadn’t done a disappearing act. Along with
her bedside table. And these silky sheets beneath her, she suddenly realized,
were not her sheets.
With a start, she sat up. And cursed. Nope, she wasn’t in her room. In
fact, she wasn’t even in her home. Scanning her surroundings warily, her
eyes widened in response to not only the luxury around her, but also the
realisation that she was inside what looked to be a freaking cave. A cave?