All the women Wheeler had bedded were skinny with light tresses, so the fact that a woman like Naya made him as hard as granite confused him. Arousal wasn’t even the right word, because that implied some level of restraint and control.

Wheeler repressed those thoughts and stopped in the middle of the grassy area. “All clear,” he said loudly, tossing the keys in her direction. They arced through the air, and instead of catching them, she put her hands on her hips and watched them slap against the concrete in front of her. With demure grace, she crouched down and lifted them with two fingers. Women in service jobs knew the rules about bending over in front of Shifter wolves. Gestures like that were an invitation, so most had mastered the art of the dip.

But for just a fleeting moment, he wished she had ignored the rules.

***

I didn’t break stride when I breezed past Wheeler. We had similar personalities, and so as long as he didn’t insult me directly, I could tolerate his condescending attitude.

Once I reached my apartment at the top of the stairs, I unzipped my boots and held them between my fingers. “Take off your shoes, although I can already see I’m going to need to steam clean again,” I said, glaring at a few dirty spots by the door.

I loved an immaculate house. It felt like every filthy thing going on in my life was erased when I walked through the door. Little Maizy was the only one who appreciated my pretty furniture, and I always told her that a woman should treat herself like a princess and not expect anyone else to do it for her. While I hoped to find a good man someday who could give me a better life, I wasn’t holding my breath. So I pampered myself with little luxuries. There’s something so pure about the color white, and I surrounded myself with it. Anything that wasn’t upholstered was made of glass—such as tables—and the chairs surrounding my dining table were all white. The only colors in my apartment were a few jade plants and my red chair.

Lexi called it my throne, but I’d fallen in love the moment I laid eyes on it at a garage sale. Everything in my home had been purchased new except for that chair. Lexi used to love going on weekend excursions to thrift shops and garage sales. Never had I imagined I’d be buying used furniture with imperfections, but something about its antique regality appealed to me—even with all its imperfections. I felt more at home in that chair than anywhere else, as if something inanimate could possibly love me back.

So when Wheeler plopped down in it, my insides roiled.

“I’ll put on some coffee,” I offered.

“No,” he said tersely. “I uh… I don’t drink coffee.”

“That’s because you haven’t had my coffee.”

Only Lexi turned down my coffee, and that’s because she was always on a caffeine-restricted diet. I put the pot on and drew up the blinds in the living room to bring in the light.