As soon as Rachel sufficiently praised Clay for wearing the collar, she went to her room to change. From her room, she asked if I wanted to join her for a girl’s night out. She explained she typically didn’t stay in too much; when not busy working, her social life called. Still too unsure of our relationship—I didn’t want to risk having someone Rachel might be interested in hitting on me—I declined. Thankfully, turning down her invitation didn’t seem to bother her.
While Rachel exceeded my expectations as a roommate, adjusting to Clay’s presence was something else entirely. When I woke Tuesday, Rachel was already gone. Clay still lingered at the foot of my bed.
“Get out,” I said as soon as I opened my eyes. He left without complaint.
I took my time to dress, then went downstairs to check out the basement. Clay followed me. I tried to ignore him as I looked around. There wasn’t much to see. The washer and the dryer were right by the steps, and there were a few utility shelves against the walls for storage.
With nothing else to do, I decided to take advantage of my idle time by sunbathing. I walked back upstairs and went to my room to change. After our talk the day before, Clay didn’t attempt to follow me.
The second time wearing the suit was a little less nerve-racking. I didn’t stare nervously in the mirror and eye all the pale skin glaring back at me. Instead, I appreciated the vivid coloring on the suit. Rachel had good taste.
Intent on finding the beach towels Rachel had used, I opened the door and stopped short at the sight of Clay. His huge dog head moved up, then down, as his eyes traveled the length of my body. I flushed, slammed the door, and changed back into shorts and a tank top. I opted to cut the grass, instead.
Clay sat on the porch and watched me push the mower back and forth. When I moved to the front, he followed. He was never in the way, just always there. After I went back inside to read, he did disappear for a bit. He had apparently taken my complaint about his hygiene seriously and had chosen to shower again. I hoped he would make it a daily routine.
Since he’d bathed and given me privacy as I’d asked, I had no reason to complain when I went to my room that night and saw him lying on the foot of the bed. However, when I woke Wednesday morning with him lying next to me, I did complain. Lividly.
“Now, just hold on,” I whispered with a scowl. “You’re a dog. Act like one. Fur stays at the foot of the bed.”
He grudgingly moved to his place at the foot of the bed, watching me the whole time.
“Don’t give me your doleful eyes. This is your choice, not mine.” As soon as I said that, I recalled his talent for misinterpretation which had caused this co-ed housing in the first place. “Not that you’d get to sleep next to me in your skin either. So, don’t even think about it. If you don’t like the end of the bed, you can always sleep on the floor.”
* * * *
After getting the paper, I scoured the classifieds for a beater car and found two promising ads. Both required a long walk. I fetched my bag, tucked the folded newspaper inside, and grabbed the house keys.
Clay beat me to the door. I scowled down at him. He stared back at me. After a moment, he shook his neck, jangling his tags. Defeated, I clipped on his leash. He negotiated well without using a single word.
I used my cell to call the number for the first ad. The man sounded a bit brusque as if my planned visit inconvenienced him. Shrugging it off, I led Clay to the address. A rusty car parked on the front lawn with a “for sale” sign affirmed I had the right place. Clay and I walked toward the car.
A man called hello from the open garage and made his way toward us. As he neared, his demeanor changed, and I inwardly groaned. He introduced himself as Howard and looked me over with interest. Clay moved to stand between us, his stoic presence a good deterrent.
Howard talked about the car for a bit, going through the laundry list of its deficiencies. Then he popped the hood so I could look at the engine. In the middle of Howard’s attempt to impress me with his vast mechanical knowledge, Clay sprang up between us. Howard yelped at Clay’s sudden move and edged away as Clay placed his paws on the front of the car to get a good look at the engine, too. I fought not to smile at the man’s stunned expression. At Clay’s discreet nod, I bought the car, not bothering with the second ad.
No matter what errand I wanted to run during the week before classes started, Clay insisted on tagging along. On Friday, when I drove to the bookstore, Clay rode a very cramped shotgun and waited in the car while I made my purchases. Later, he sat in the hot car again while I bought some basic school supplies.
However, Monday, when I tried leaving for my first class, I put my foot down. He bristled and growled and tried to follow me.
“Your license only wins you so much freedom. Dogs aren’t allowed on campus and definitely not in the classroom.”
Thankfully, Rachel had left first and didn’t hear me scold him.
I tried to leave again, but he stubbornly persisted. Finally, exasperated, I reminded him that he slept on my bed because of my good grace. He resentfully stepped away from the door.
* * * *
After the first week of classes, I didn’t have time to mind Clay’s constant attention. Maxing out at eighteen credits, desperate to get the general requirements out of the way so I could delve into clinicals sooner, I spent much of my day on campus in a classroom or in the library. When I actually found myself at home, I spent my time studying. I’d known when signing up for the courses that they would occupy all of my time and prevent me from having much of a life. Other than the fact I couldn’t get a part-time job while taking the overload, I hadn’t minded the commitment.
Even though I ignored him, Clay still stayed close to me. I realized how bored he’d grown when I came home and found one of my books on the couch, the bookmark on the wrong page. The next day, I took pity on him and brought back some books I thought might interest him. The one I thought particularly clever, about flora and fauna of North America, I included to remind him of home. He eyed the titles dispassionately. The day after, a bookmark nestled between the pages of two of the books.
I woke up one morning with a single-word note on my dresser. It simply said “mechanics.” The first stack of books lay next to the note.
I turned to glare at Clay, who still lounged on the end of the bed.
“So you can write words to me, just not speak them?”
He blinked at me.
“Whatever. You’re going to get caught creeping around the house at night.”
Later that day, I returned the books on forestry and wildlife and checked out several books on mechanics. For fun, I threw in a do-it-yourself book for home repairs.
* * * *
The second Friday after school began, I sat on my bed with the door to my room closed. Clay lay in his usual spot beside me, his eyes devouring the words of his current book. He’d spent enough time reading next to me that I’d grown used to our system, a nudge when he needed a page turned. Trying to turn the page with his nose hadn’t worked out well for him or the first book.
When he nudged me, I turned his page without looking up from my own book. When he did it again, I lifted my head. He read fast, but not that fast. He briefly met my eyes then turned toward the door. Just then, I heard the front door open, and I froze at the sound of Rachel’s voice.
“...and this is where I live. Please have a seat, and I’ll change quickly. My roommate and our dog should be around here somewhere.”
“No rush,” a man answered. “Our reservations aren’t until six.”
I turned wide eyes to Clay. Rachel had brought a man home? I didn’t have time to think about it further because she knocked on my door. I wanted to ignore it, but instead, quickly closed the book in front of Clay.
“Come in.”
Rachel walked in still wearing her scrubs. Her smile and flushed cheeks spoke volumes, as did the way she tactfully closed the door behind her.
“There you are. Come meet Peter.” She walked close and leaned in so she could whisper more. “Don’t kill me, but he has a friend without a date tonight, and I said I had a friend without a date tonight...please come with.”
I groaned quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Rachel. This won’t end well, and you’ll probably never forgive me.”
“Come on...please?” she said, sitting on the bed next to me. “I really like this one.”
“That’s the problem. Remember what I said? It’s always a guy that ruins a friendship. I don’t want to go out tonight.” I looked at Clay from the corner of my eye. He glared at Rachel. Not good. Too human. I nudged him with my foot while keeping my focus on Rachel.
“I like having a friend,” I said.
She smiled at me. “If he hits on you, then it wasn’t meant to be. Don’t worry so much.” She pulled me off the bed, and I reluctantly followed her out the door. Clay was close behind.
Peter, a pleasant looking man with light blonde hair and blue eyes, stood when we walked into the living room. He was an inch shorter than Rachel and, with his coloring, seemed her polar opposite. He immediately smiled at Rachel, and I could tell he had eyes only for her. I sagged with relief. His kind were rare.
“Peter, this is Gabby. Gabby, this is Peter. He’s going to med school. I bumped into him at the library last week. Peter, why don’t you tell her about Scott while I go get dressed?”
Rachel left the room in a rush, probably so I couldn’t retreat. I smothered a grin as I watched Peter’s gaze follow her. It took him a moment to collect himself.
“Nice to meet you, Gabby.”
“You too. Want to sit?” I motioned him back to the couch and took the chair for myself. Clay settled on the floor between us. “This is Clay.”
“He’s huge,” Peter said, appearing to notice Clay for the first time.
A huge pain in the butt, I thought without any malice.
“Yeah,” I said instead. “So, who’s Scott?”
“Oh, a friend of mine,” he said looking up from Clay. “He’s also in med school. We had plans to go to O’Donell’s tonight for dinner and a drink or two. Then, I ran into Rachel and invited her to join us. We thought it’d be more fun if you could come, too.”
Rachel waltzed back into the room at that moment. Amazingly, she had already changed into a skirt and complementing silky top. She’d heard Peter’s last comment.
“Of course you will, won’t you, Gabby?”
Two love-struck fools, who wouldn’t even consider my presence if it weren’t for Scott, had me cornered. Rachel really didn’t know what she was asking of me. A public restaurant wouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet, as she watched me hopefully, I knew my answer.
“Okay...but I need to be home early enough to let Clay out.” A lame excuse, but I needed to prep the idea now so I would have an out later.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine for that little while.” Rachel waved her hand dismissively at Clay. Clay huffed, but she didn’t notice. Instead, she shooed me toward my room.
“Go get dressed.”
I stood to go to my room, but Clay leapt to his feet in front of me. I stepped to the right to go around him but he mirrored my move, blocking me.
Rachel laughed. “Come here, Clay. Come here and let Gabby get ready.” She squatted down and patted her leg.
I’d seen her do this a few times before. Usually, Clay grudgingly responded. Not this time though. He kept his gaze focused on me and copied my feinted attempts to get around him.
“I’ve never seen him act like this,” Rachel said to Peter.
I kept my narrowed gaze on Clay.
“I’m surprised you have such a wild looking dog. It seems too big compared to the house...and the two of you.” Peter eyed Clay, too.
Giving up, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around his thick neck, pretending to hug him so I could whisper in his ear.
“I’m not crazy about the idea either, but you have to let me go and stop acting weird.” I pulled back. “Ready to be good, Clay?” I said as I stood and scratched him behind the ear just as a pet owner would do.
He turned and trotted into my room. Nope, not ready to be good.
Rachel laughed again. She knew I usually kicked him out when I wanted to change and had already teased me about it. I’d pointed out she wouldn’t know how awkward it felt because he never tried to watch her change.
Resolutely, I followed Clay into my room and closed the door. I could just barely hear Peter and Rachel talking as they waited for me. Clay sat on my bed, watching me.
I folded my arms and kept my voice low. “I am not changing in front of you.”
My words evoked an eerie canine smile from him, and he settled down onto my comforter and continued to watch me.
“Fine. I’ll change in the bathroom.”
I went to my closet and started looking at my clothes already knowing very few things in there compared to the style Rachel wore. The skirt I’d bought a few weeks ago would look nice but added to my pull, it would scream “hit on me.” Biting my lip, I reached for the skirt. Clay began to growl fiercely.
“Zip it,” I mumbled and grabbed one of the dressier tops I owned, a fitted cowl neck top with three-quarter sleeves.
Clay started barking, a deep menacing sound that raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. I spun toward him.
“What the hell, Clay? Cut it out.” I knew he didn’t like that because he got louder.
Rachel burst in without knocking, and Peter followed right behind her. Clay, who had been sitting at the end of my bed, sprang to his feet as soon as they entered.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel looked at Clay, who continued to bark at me.
If possible, his volume increased, and I had to yell over him.
“Nothing. Just give me a few minutes to calm him down, okay?” I walked to Clay with the clothes still under one arm, and he growled at me. I faltered and eyed him with a hint of fear.
“Uh, I’m not so sure you should do that right now,” Peter said.
Clay turned and started barking at Peter.
“Enough.” My voice echoed in the small room. It apparently took Clay by surprise because the noise stopped. However, his attitude hadn’t changed. Teeth still exposed in a fierce snarl, he glared at all of us. At least he’d finished barking and growling. For the moment. I turned toward Peter and Rachel.
“I’m fine. Thank you. Just give me a few minutes to change.”
They shared a glance then left the room and shut the door behind them.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Without trying, I could “see” Clay in a painful burst of light. A first. My other vision usually required an amount of focus.
With a sigh, I opened my eyes and turned to him. He looked seriously pissed. My stomach churned. Sam had promised he could control himself.
“Will you bite me if I sit next to you, Clay?”
He snorted, and I watched the silent snarl ease from his muzzle. His hackles slowly laid flat. When he settled onto his haunches, I knew he’d calmed down and sat next to him.
“You know I don’t understand dog, right? It’d be so much easier if you just told me what was wrong.”
I turned my head to meet his gaze. Our faces were close together. Because of his height, he was looking down at me. He let out a gusty sigh and bent his head to nudge the clothes I still held.
“You don’t like the clothes or that I’m going out?” I watched his face, trying to figure out what he was getting at. He actually bobbed his head yes.
“You don’t like both?”
He lowered himself down onto the mattress and watched me with his sad puppy eyes, not trying to communicate further.
“You’re really frustrating me, Clay.” I moved to get up, and he growled again.
“Now, hold on...” I did get up, but spun with my hands on my hips to look him in the eye. Aware that only a door separated us from the suspiciously silent couple in the living room, I kept quiet despite my anger.
“I’m trying here, Clay, and you’re not. So stop growling at me. Got it? And so what if I go out? Do you trust me so little? Have you not been paying attention? I’m not comfortable around guys. It’s not as if I’m going to go out tonight and come back with a boyfriend or something. So, just chill out about your Claim, all right?”
He continued to growl at me and gave me a dog-eyed glare. In his mind, he and I shared a tie. I knew that. I also knew from a werewolf standpoint, in a strongly tied pair, the male often acted in an extremely possessive manner. If other unMated males came near before the Claim was completed, a fight typically broke out. Sometimes to the death.
“But we’re not talking unMated males,” I whispered to him, thinking aloud. “They’re just men.”
He chuffed out his canine laugh and hopped from the bed to walk toward me. I couldn’t help it, after all that barking and growling, I stepped back from him. His sides heaved as he sighed and stopped advancing. I knew my fear disappointed him.
“Sorry,” I mumbled automatically. Although, he’d done nothing but try to communicate why he didn’t want me to go out tonight, I didn’t appreciate his chosen methods of communication. They could use improvement.
“Let me think, Clay.” I sat on the edge of the bed while he stood on the floor, and watched me. I still didn’t understand what continued to bother him. The date wasn’t with a werewolf. I had no interest in Scott. I only wanted to go as a favor to Rachel. And the clothes were the only going out clothes I had.
“Can we compromise? I don’t want to spend the entire year sitting at home with a possessive dog who won’t talk to me.” Yeah, that sounded weird. “What if we went somewhere dog friendly? There’s a bar with cute little bistro tables on the sidewalk. If you’re on your leash, you could come.”
He stood, turned around so he faced away from me, and sat again.
“Is that a yes?” I leaned to the side in an attempt to see his face. He didn’t move.
“I’m taking that as a yes. If you turn around while I’m changing, I’m going to have you neutered.”
He just laughed again, so I hurried into my skirt and switched my t-shirt for the fitted top. As my head cleared the neckline, I met his eyes in the mirror. Thank the stars I hadn’t changed any underthings.
“Hope it was worth it,” I said. “You’re on the couch tonight.”
Rachel and Peter sat talking on the couch when I walked out of my room.
“All set, but can we change our plans? I think Clay was freaking out because he knows we’re leaving. He’s been left alone so much this week...”
Predictably, Rachel made soothing noises and went to cuddle Clay. He tolerated it with as much dignity as a man in fur and a collar could muster.
“What if we went to that bar with the bistro tables that you were telling me about?” I said to Rachel.
Rachel leapt at the idea. “That’d be perfect. It’s still nice enough out. Besides, I think this is the last week they do the outdoor dining. We should go before it’s closed for the season.”
Peter stalled. “Are you sure he will be okay? He looked pretty aggressive in there.”
Rachel stopped petting Clay to look back at Peter. “He’s never done that before. I think Gabby might be right. We’ve been leaving him alone a lot. I even forgot to let him out this morning before I left.”
Peter looked adoringly at Rachel, and I knew we’d be going to the bistro bar.
“Let me grab my shoes. I’ll follow you guys in my car just in case I need to leave early.”
“I’ll let Scott know about the change in plans.” Peter pulled out his cell and started tapping the screen.
“I’ll let Clay out.” Rachel got up, walked to the back door, and called to Clay. Clay looked at me imploringly but, after what he’d just pulled, I had no pity.
“You know the drill. Go do dog business.”
He left the room without a backward look. I went to the hall closet to search for my black flip-flops, the best footwear I had to offer the outfit, and grabbed a light jacket.
“You talk to him like he’s a person,” Peter said.
“I tease her for it all the time,” Rachel said with a smile as she rejoined us. “You should hear her scolding him at night for taking up too much room on the bed.”
Annoyingly, I started to blush. “Well, he’s huge. Most of the time I have to sleep curled up. But, I’m sure I’ll appreciate him more in winter.” I slipped my feet into the plain flip-flops and made my way into the kitchen where I grabbed my keys.
I locked the back door while Rachel and Peter left via the front.
Clay already sat in the passenger seat when I turned toward the car. It meant he’d switched into his skin to open the door. I shook my head, got in, and started to buckle up.
“You’re going to be seen doing stuff a dog shouldn’t do. That or someone’s going to call the cops because a naked man keeps popping up in my backyard.” He didn’t laugh this time. I turned to look at him while I started the car.
“You okay?”
Clay met my eyes, but I couldn’t tell what bothered him now. I wished I could read him better.
“Fine. No growling, no biting, no barking. Pretty much no anything but acting like a passive, well-behaved dog,” I said, laying down the rules as I backed out of the driveway.
I followed Peter’s red compact through traffic with ease.
“I’m really nervous about this and don’t want to worry about you, too.” I sighed and started to doubt my decision. Although Clay had witnessed how the man who’d sold me the car had acted, he didn’t know how guys acted around me in general. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He would flip out when someone started to hit on me.
“Clay, you should know...men make me uncomfortable because of the way they act around me. They usually start flirting or ask me on a date. Most girls would be flattered, but if you really pay attention, there’s something unnatural about it. It’s like they can’t help themselves. And sometimes, after I tell them no enough, they walk away with...”
I groped for the right word, but came up blank.
“I don’t know...a look. Like they’ve been caught doing something they’re ashamed of. I just want to try for normal tonight, okay? It’ll be hard enough being in a public place. You’ll see. I just need to know you’re not going to make it any harder on me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn to look out the window and reached over to ruffle his fur gently.
With increasing frequency, I caught myself touching him as if he were a dog. If I didn’t think about him as a guy, petting him comforted me.
“Does it bother you when I pet you?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road. I knew his answer when he contorted his large body to lay down with his head against my leg so I could reach him better. I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in a long while.
“Okay. If I start annoying you with it, just move away. I promise I won’t pester you.”
Peter considerately picked a parking spot with a free space next to it for me. Clay unwedged himself as I parked. I grabbed the leash and snapped it on. He watched me exit, hopped out after me, and stayed close to my side as we walked.
Rachel and Peter politely included me in their conversation. It helped distract me from my nervousness about meeting Peter’s friend. I knew what to expect even if neither Rachel nor Clay fully understood. Peter’s lack of reaction had pleasantly surprised me. But, his response wasn’t the norm. I just hoped Clay would behave.
Scott waited for us at one of the outside tables. He stood and flashed a welcoming smile when he saw Peter. From a distance, I saw several female patrons at nearby tables cast speculative glances Scott’s way. Fit and tall, with light brown hair and a carefree smile, no doubt his good looks warranted it. But, something about the way he held himself bothered me. It sent off an insincere vibe as if he’d practiced his pose.
His smile turned secretive and cunning as his pale blue eyes fixated on me. The subtle change probably escaped everyone else’s notice, but not mine. Depressed, but hiding it well, I rested a hand on Clay’s back. Whether in comfort or restraint, I couldn’t be sure.
“Scott, this is Gabby,” Peter said when we stood next to the table.
I smiled a tentative greeting but didn’t offer my hand.
“A pretty name you don’t hear often,” Scott murmured, pulling out a chair for me.
Taking the chair he offered would put me across from Rachel and force me to sit between the two guys. Clay wouldn’t like that. He didn’t like the comment about my name either, but other than a twitch I’d felt with my hand on his back, he behaved.
“Would you mind if we switched spots, Scott? That way our dog won’t be so close to people walking by. He’s very friendly, but big. I don’t want anyone to be intimidated by him.”
“No problem.” He gave me a reassuring smile and pulled out his own chair for me.
Loosely holding Clay’s leash, I moved to the chair next to Rachel. Scott politely pushed the chair back in as I sat. Then he leaned close to move his drink. Clay quickly went to lie between my chair and Scott’s. He nudged Scott’s chair further away before Scott could sit. I pretended not to notice.
We made small talk while we perused the menus. I felt Scott’s gaze continually return to me but refused to look up.
After we ordered, each of the more experienced students shared their knowledge of the university. Scott offered—twice—to take me on an official tour when I admitted I didn’t know many of the campus locations they mentioned. As soon as I declined the second time, he looked less like the nice guy I’d met and more like a guy who would give me problems. I looked down at Clay. He still lay next to me, head on his paws. Only the twitch of his ears indicated his attention to the conversation.
“Why not have a drink with us, Gabby?” Scott asked, pointing at my water.
He hadn’t worried about what I drank until I’d turned down his invitations for a tour.
“I’m a bit younger than the rest of you.” I glanced at Rachel and saw her studying me. Crap! Was she noticing? Was she getting mad? I should have stayed home. Folding my hands in my lap, I tried to play it cool.
“Really? How old are you?”
“Eighteen. I’m not much of a soda drinker either, so water works.” I tried to turn the conversation off myself. “How much longer until you graduate?”
“It depends on how far I want to go,” Scott said, his intense smile relaxing a little. He nodded toward Peter. “Peter told me he declared his major freshman year and has never changed. I, on the other hand, have changed twice. I like what I’m learning now, so I hope I won’t change it again, but you never know. What about you?”
“I’m going for massage therapy. So, I won’t be here as long as the rest of you.”
“Massage therapy? I hear they ask for volunteers to come in for those classes.” He leaned closer with a fascinated smile on his face. “If you ever need someone to practice on, let me know. I’d be happy to come in.” He reached over to pat my hand. The timely arrival of our food saved me from having to avoid his touch.
Clay nudged my leg with his surprisingly warm and dry nose, and I glanced down. He stared at me a moment then shifted his gaze to Scott, who was moving his drink for the waitress. Clay returned his glance to me and pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. Without the growl, it looked more like a scary, crazy wolf smile, but I got his meaning. Scott was getting on Clay’s nerves, and Clay wouldn’t put up with too much more.
Peter spoke up while Scott was distracted. “I think you’ll both be in some of the anatomy classes next semester, Gabby. If you want a study group, you should let Rachel and I know. I’ve already been through them.” He gazed admiringly at Rachel. “And since you’re graduating in spring, I know you have, too.”
“Thank you, Peter, but I really do study best on my—”
“That’s a great idea,” Scott said. “We should start now so the class won’t be so hard later. What do you think about Tuesday nights?”
“It’s a good idea to get a head start,” I said ignoring Clay’s insistent bump against my leg. “But I’m so swamped with classes and homework now that I don’t even have time to take poor Clay for walks.”
I reached over to pat Clay reassuringly, but stopped when I noticed Scott’s gaze drop to my chest. The cowl neck had dipped away and revealed a little glimpse of the shadows within. Scott’s eyes went from glassy fixation to glazed obsession. This was getting ridiculous.
Turning back to my dinner, I stuffed a few bite