I sat up a little straighter. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I’m okay. I mean, I feel a bit weird, but okay. Better, you know? You?”

“Uh, we already did me.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” He smiled and looked at me sheepishly. “I, uh, guess I just want to say thank you, Sully. I know that was, like, going above and beyond as a friend in a big way. I appreciate it and hope like fuck it won’t make things weird between us. I know I don’t say it often but you’re the best . . .”

I cut him off there. His voice sounded the same as it used to sound when he did a presentation at school, forced and affected. I couldn’t stand to hear him like that. “Jesus, Jules. Don’t be all earnest. That really will make things weird.”

He started smiling even harder. “It was pretty weird, right?”

“Name one thing that hasn’t been weird this week.”

He thought about it for a while and then shrugged. “Shit, I got nothing.”

We both started to laugh at the sheer absurdity of our situation.

After breakfast, we went down to the river to bathe. As we walked down the path, Jules chattered about this and that. He was speaking a little faster than normal. And a little louder too.

“How many times did you shift last night? Your hair’s gone insane.”

“I know. I shifted a lot. I couldn’t hold the shift. It was a strange night, okay?”

“That’s putting it mildly. But it wasn’t that bad, was it? The whole heat thing, it wasn’t even that bad. Right? It wasn’t great, but it was okay. It was totally survivable. It’s no problem. Being an omega won’t be that bad. Right? It will be fine. Those stories about omegas allegedly dying of their heats must be bullshit. They must be total bullshit. Otherwise, those omegas must have been total pussies. That’s all I can say.”

“Mm-hmm,” I said.

That was all I could say. It was occurring to me that Jules didn’t realize his heat hadn’t broken. Not by a long shot. If his scent was anything to go by, his heat was only getting warmed up. It was merely gathering force.

“Or maybe they’re not pussies exactly. Maybe I’m just a fuck ton tougher than they are?”

Jesus. Jules-in-heat was a handful.

When we got to the banks of the river, I picked up a stick, trying to think of a way to distract him and possibly wear him out a little.

“Psst, Jules, fetch.”

“Fuuuck off,” he said. “I’m not a fucking dog, Sully.”

“Oh, no? But if you’re not a dog, who’s a good boy? Hmm? Who’s a good boy?” I waved the stick around in front of him and noticed with glee that his eyes started to track it.

“Shut up!”

“Come on, shift, so you can play fetch.”

“A wolf chasing a stick? No way. That really would be a case of glorified fetch. Not on my watch, alpha boy.”