“I think I hurt his feelings, and I just wanted to apologize. Apology gift included.” I gesture at my bag, which isn’t the gift. I doubt Warner has any use for a tote that reads Girls Just Wanna Purl.

Rebecca shrugs, strolling toward the register. “I’m sure you’re overreacting. Warner is the most easygoing person you’ll ever meet. If you were talking about one of my other boys, maybe I’d believe you. But I doubt Warner is moping somewhere. No need to worry yourself.”

Her words don’t sit right with me. Is that how she sees Warner? Too laid-back to ever get hurt by anything?

Still, I wonder. Am I blowing this out of proportion?

I dismiss the thought.

No matter his reaction, I know how I acted toward him was wrong, and I need to tell him that.

“Either way, I’d like to apologize.”

Rebecca watches me with an unreadable expression before answering, “Well, he’s not here. Not sure where he’s gone off to. You can leave your”—she eyes my bag with a baffled expression—“apology gift with me. I’ll give it to him when I see him next.”

I smile, even as I shake my head, thinking of how to explain my reason for turning her down. “That’s kind of you. But the gift isn’t exactly finished yet.” At her raised eyebrow, I add, “Plus, there are the words. That I need to say. To make it a real apology.”

Her second eyebrow joins the first, and I conclude that I’m not making much sense. Better escape before I lose Rebecca’s goodwill. Getting on her bad side would make my many trips to the hardware store an adventure in discomfort.

Those are the worst kinds of adventures.

“Thanks anyway! I’m sure I’ll be in soon. Almost out of stain.” Waving over my shoulder, I head back out onto the street.

Fingers crossed, I try knocking on Warner’s door again.

Still no answer.

I could text him. But selfish me doesn’t want to give him a chance to avoid me if he’s hurt or mad after how I treated him. This is an ambush apology.

He will know how sorry I am.

Then, after that, he can cut me out of his life if he still hates me.

A surprisingly large pit of despair roils in my stomach as I consider the idea.

When did Warner fuse himself so thoroughly with my happiness? He’s basically a supportive ninja. Sneakily helping me until I come to rely on him.

Ninja biker werewolf. A force to be reckoned with.