Rachel stood, and I huffed a relieved sigh. She was too fond of rubbing my fur. I hoped Gabby would eventually come around and stand up for me.

"Hey, Gabby," Rachel called as she walked to her room. "Want to go out with me tonight? Girl's night out? Hit a few clubs?"

My head snapped up, and I strained to hear Gabby's answer from the bedroom. She had better say no or she'd have a wolf trailing her, causing mass hysteria.

"Um, thanks for the offer, but I think I'll stay here. I want to be sure I'm settled before school starts."

I heaved a relieved sigh.

"All right," Rachel said. "I just didn't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you. I hate staying home, and when I'm not working, I like to go out. If you ever want to come with, just say."

Not happening.

"Sure."

Gabby's half-hearted answer reassured me. I sighed and went back to contemplating my bowl. Now that I had a collar, I really didn't want to drink like a dog.

Rachel reemerged dressed in a short skirt that barely peeked out from under her jacket. Where was she going dressed like that? And she'd wanted Gabby to go with her? I'd drink out of the bowl and start eating dog food before I let Gabby go out like that.

Rachel patted me on the head on her way out the back door. I lingered in the kitchen, listening to her get into her car and drive off. Then, silence held the house. Had Gabby gone to bed? Taking a chance, I shifted, went to the sink, and got myself a glass of water.

Would Gabby remember she'd said I could join her? I finished my drink, set the cup aside, then hesitated. If she didn't remember, she'd kick me out. Better to wait until she slept and not push her.

I shifted back into my fur and waited fifteen minutes then quietly padded to Gabby's door. It wasn't shut all the way, a sign she'd remembered. I smiled. Maybe she wasn't as opposed to me as she seemed.

I pushed the door open with my nose and jumped up on the end of the bed. Inhaling her scent, I settled into my designated spot. With some luck, I wouldn't be at the end of the bed much longer.

* * * *

"Get out," Gabby said as soon as she woke.

Her less than charitable tone let me know she wasn't as close to coming around as I'd hoped. With a quiet sigh, I hopped off the bed and exited the room. The house was quiet since Rachel had already left. That woman barely slept.

I settled on the couch to wait for Gabby and whatever she had planned for the day.

When Gabby emerged, she passed me without acknowledgment then wandered around the house for a bit. She'd seemed bored, a state of existence I understood well, so I stayed out of her way. After only a few minutes, she shut herself in her room again, which I found odd.

Inside her room, I heard the faint sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes. I hopped off the couch and moved closer to the door, trying to listen. She was changing? She'd just gotten dressed.

I'd barely sat down to wait when the door swung open. Gabby, wearing her swimsuit, stood within the doorway. My gut clenched at the sight of her pale limbs and smooth stomach, and I thanked whatever thought had inspired her to change. My mouth went dry as I studied every inch of her. I itched to touch her again, to hold her in my arms.

With effort, I lifted my gaze. Did she know how much I loved that suit? Had she changed just for me? Her wide eyes and the livid blush that stained her cheeks gave me my answer. She hadn't.

She stepped back and slammed the door. Too late, I realized I'd screwed up by openly showing my interest in her. I wanted to yowl my frustration, but I kept quiet. We were learning each other. We were bound to make mistakes. Patience. I just needed patience.

When she reemerged wearing shorts and a bitty top, she ignored me and marched out the back door. I followed cautiously and watched her disappear into the garage. A minute later, she pushed the lawn mower out.

She bent to check a few things and push a button. I only gave what she did half my attention. The rest of my focus remained on the curve of her backside.

She yanked back on a cord, and the mower started with an annoying roar. Too soon, the air filled with its stink. But the view of Gabby's legs as she pushed the machine back and forth made the smell endurable.

When she finished, she cast an annoyed glance my direction. She didn't like me eyeing her in her suit; now, she didn't like me watching her mow the lawn. What did she expect me to do? Frustrated, I ducked into the house and took another shower to cool off and to wash the exhaust from my skin.

I dried myself, correctly draped the towel over the edge of the tub, then opened the door a crack. Shifting to my fur, I nudged the door open further and wandered out to look for her.

She sat on the couch reading again. I padded across the room and jumped up next to her. This time, I didn't earn a sniff. Disappointed, I settled in for another long, hungry morning and afternoon.

She barely moved or acknowledged me the entire time. The only highlight to the day was the end of it...and the memory of her in her swimsuit. Yeah, that image wasn't ever going to leave me.

Gabby went to bed, and I waited again, unsure of my welcome. But I found her door unlatched and sighed in relief. How could I feel so hopeful and dejected at the same time?

I hopped up on the bed and stared down at her.

The need to touch her clawed at me. Quietly, I shifted into my human skin and shivered slightly as I moved from the end of the bed to lie beside her. Carefully, I eased myself onto my side. I didn't dare slide under the covers. Face to face, I watched her sleep; ever so carefully, I brushed a fingertip along her cheek. Her soft skin begged for more, but I withdrew my hand.

She confused me and seemed cold at times, but she was mine. Eventually, she'd come to terms with that.

I inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent, and closed my eyes.

* * * *

A change in her breathing woke me. I quickly shifted to my fur before she caught me in her bed without clothes on. That wouldn't end well for me.

Her eyes snapped open and locked onto me.

"Now, just hold on," she said. "You're a dog. Act like one. Fur stays at the foot of the bed."

I pretended to mind as I moved to the end of the bed, staring at her the whole time, but I didn't. I was too grateful she hadn't caught me sleeping naked next to her.

"Don't give me your doleful eyes. This is your choice, not mine."

Wait. Did that mean—

"Not that you'd get to sleep next to me in your skin, either. So, don't even think about it."

We were starting to think alike, I thought with a grin.

"If you don't like the end of the bed, you can always sleep on the floor."

The floor? No. My spot was beside her. I just needed to help her figure that out.

After she kicked me out so she could dress, she joined me in the kitchen and spent a lot of time staring at the newspaper. While she did that, I considered what I could do to help her see me as her Mate. An unlocked door at night was a good start. I wanted more than that. I wanted to be the one she talked to when she was upset, the one she came to for comfort, the one to hold her for the rest of her life—

She stood suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts. When she moved to get her house key and her bag, I quickly got to my feet and waited by the door.

She scowled down at me but I didn't flinch away from her gaze. I wore the degrading collar. She wouldn't be leaving without me. For good measure, I shook my neck to jingle my tags.

Sighing, she reached for the leash and clipped it on. I gloated. On the inside.

As soon as we were outside, she pulled a phone from her pocket and dialed a number. I listened to her conversation and found out she wanted to go see a car.

I agreed she needed one. That forty-minute walk to those brick buildings, where she planned to take classes, was too long for her to make each day. There were too many men along the way. Plus, it would get colder. A car would help keep her away from men and out of the cold.

Side by side, we made our way to the address the man had given her. The place wasn't hard to find. An old car sat parked on the front lawn. Gabby paused on the sidewalk, studying the vehicle. It wasn't any worse than what I often saw at the Compound.

"Hello," a man called from the garage.

I swung my gaze to the man as he stepped out and walked toward us. He seemed average height for a human. Middle aged and carrying a bit of extra weight, as they tended to do. He barely glanced at me as he approached. His fixated stare at Gabby made my fur bristle.

"I'm Howard. You called about the car?"

"I did," she said, and without giving her name, she turned toward the car before he could offer his hand. Smart girl.

I lingered, watching her back as she moved away.

"It's a decent car for the price," he said, moving past her and popping the hood. She peeked inside, and he moved close to her. Too close.

I nudged him aside and jumped up, bracing my paws on the front end. The man yipped like a startled pup but backed away as I wanted. Ignoring him, I stared at the engine, comparing what I saw to Sam's truck. I nodded to myself. It looked similar.

"I'll take it," Gabby said.

Just like that? She had too much trust in people. He hadn't even told her much about the car. It didn't seem to matter to her, though.

"Do you have the title ready to sign over?"

"Sure. Let me run inside."

A few minutes later, I contorted myself to sit in the very cramped passenger seat as we drove away.

The car needed a good cleaning. It reeked of stale smoke.

* * * *

The rest of the week followed a very similar pattern. She read a lot, made a trip to purchase more books—I rode along and dutifully waited in the car—then she started to read those, too.

Some of the subjects were interesting. Woman's literature fascinated me. It wasn't the context but the concept. A whole class just about women's books and the impact they had on the world. Did they have a men's literature?

Monday, when she grabbed her keys, I jumped to follow her to the door.

"Your license only wins you so much freedom. Dogs aren't allowed on campus and definitely not in the classroom."

I growled. There was no way she was going to that place full of men without me.

"Clay, I'm putting up with you in my house and on my bed. Don't push this."

Her tone and scent had me backing off. I wouldn't push. A ride in the car would have been convenient, but I could just as easily follow her on foot.

* * * *

I jumped onto the couch with a sigh and flopped down. I now understood why humans hated Mondays. The campus had been chaos, and following Gabby had been impossible. Security had chased me off the grounds, then chased me again when I returned.

I needed clothes, I needed to blend, and I needed to shower before Gabby came home, which could be any time. Her schedule remained a mystery to me. Lifting my head, I glanced out the window. I hadn't wanted to leave the campus yet, but wasn't given a choice. The last security guard had fired a pellet gun at me.

A familiar car pulled into the driveway, and I huffed a sigh. I'd forgotten about Rachel. So much for a shower.

"Clay," she called as soon as she opened the door.

I stood and jogged to her just so she wouldn't keep yelling.

"Hey, bud! Look what I brought you."

She opened her foam container and showed me a half-eaten burger. It almost made up for her attempt to get Gabby to go out with her. She set it on the floor, and I wolfed it down. The bacon on the burger made me want to groan. I hadn't eaten anything since leaving the house.

"You sure are hungry." She glanced at the dish. "Don't you like your food?"

Nope, but I'd have to remember to get rid of it every now and again so Rachel wouldn't worry about it.

"I wonder when Gabby's coming home..." She stepped to the fridge and lifted the top few layers of paper held to the side by a magnetic clip.

"Today's a late one."

As I swallowed the last bite, I realized she was looking at Gabby's schedule. Rachel glanced at me.

"Stay home and hang out with you or go out?"

Go out. Go out.

"What do you think?"

I turned my back to her, trotted to Gabby's room, and hopped up on the end of the bed, hopefully making it clear I didn't want to hang out with Rachel.

She peeked into the room and grinned at me. "I don't get why you like her so much. She doesn't feed you good stuff like I do. Better remember that."

She didn't seem mad or offended by my preference. Only amused. She went to her room, and I listened to her change. The woman rarely closed her door.

A few minutes later, I heard her leave her room and walk to the kitchen.

"Clay. Come on, Clay. Time to go out."

The indignities I suffered. I hopped off the bed and dutifully went outside. She watched me through the door this time. Who watched like that? I strode behind the shed, stood there for a suitable amount of time, then returned to the yard. She opened the door as soon as she saw me.

"You're such a good boy," she said, scratching my head. "I'll bring you a treat when I come home."

I wouldn't lie to myself. The food treats tempted me.

As soon as her car pulled out of the driveway, I shifted to my skin and looked at Gabby's schedule. She wouldn't be home for a while yet.

With a sigh, I went to take a quick shower, then waited for her on the couch.

* * * *

Just before I grew bored enough to start chewing on the table legs, I heard her car in the driveway. I hopped off the couch and hurried to the back door. Seeing her again made my chest ache. How could I miss someone I didn't understand or know?

She didn't acknowledge me when she stepped inside. She let her bag drop to the floor with a thump and moved to the fridge.

"I'm starving." She wasn't talking to me, but herself.

I stayed out of her way as she moved about, grabbing what she needed to make two sandwiches. She absently handed me one when she finished and stuck hers in her mouth, freeing her hands so she could carry her bag to her room. I quickly chomped my food down before she made it to the arch and followed her. Did she even realize I was here?

I wasn't expecting her to feel the way I did, but her complete indifference hurt.

In her room, she tiredly kicked off her shoes and set her bag on the mattress. She took a bite of her sandwich with one hand and started to read one of her books. Her gaze didn't leave the pages as she eased onto the bed and curled her legs under her, getting comfortable.

Hopping up on the bed, I joined her. She didn't flinch at all as I curled up beside her. In fact, she didn't do anything but read for a long time.

Eventually, she started to yawn.

"Come on, Clay. Out. I need to change." A yawn punctuated her request.

Suppressing a sigh, I hopped off the bed and left the room. When she opened the door again, I waited until I heard her get into bed before joining her. The soft rhythm of her breathing changed within minutes, letting me know she slept.

The next day followed the same routine. She woke, kicked me out, and left for class. I followed her to campus to make sure the piece of junk car didn't break down on the way, then went home to wait for her.

I was beginning to see why other people had made decisions for her. Her choice to go to college didn't seem like a smart one. It was boring as hell. But, I was near her, and if reading all the time made her happy...I sighed. I would just need to accept it.

Though I would have rather held her attention, I didn't mind watching her read. Observing her, I began to learn her body language. When she read something that confused her, she chewed her lip. When she read something interesting, she wrote it down. When she doubted what she read, she pulled out another book to see what that said. She often became so engrossed she forgot to drink anything at night; and she always studied until she yawned for the third time.

My time alone in the house was much harder to endure. I chafed at the situation, wishing I knew what to do to integrate myself into her life. Desperation drove me to pick up one of her textbooks. Maybe understanding what she read would give me insight into why she read it and her life. Instead, I quickly discovered why she went to bed after the third yawn.

Once I grew tired, the words tended to swim around in my head and made very little sense. I managed two chapters of biology before I closed that book and moved on to a different one. I picked at random from her dresser.

When she came home that night, she tossed me a sandwich, like she had the night before, and went to her room. She seemed to notice I'd moved her books around. I watched her study them, wondering if I'd upset her. She didn't say anything, though, just picked one up and started reading.

The next day she didn't come home with her usual distracted air.

"Hey, Clay," she called as she pushed through the door.

I stood abruptly from my normal waiting spot near the stove, wondering why she needed me. The movement drew her attention, and she looked at me with a slight smile on her face. My heart leapt at the sight. Was she actually happy to see me?

"Brought you something," she said.

The fact that she'd thought of me while she was out made me want to grin. My patience was paying off. I was sure of it.

Then, she pulled three books from her bag and set them on the table. Books? She'd brought me books? Of course she did. She read constantly, and had given me something that meant a great deal to her.

I eyed the titles. Books about plants and wildlife. Though I doubted they contained anything I didn't already know, I turned to Gabby, trying to figure out how to thank her for thinking of me. But she was already digging in the fridge, my moment of attention already gone. With a sigh, I waited, ready to accept my sandwich and follow her to her room.

That night, after she and Rachel went to sleep, I went to the kitchen, grabbed one of my books, and stayed up late reading. As I thought, the book didn't offer anything new; but it was better than her textbooks.

The following morning, after I returned from campus, I tried to continue reading but grew frustrated. The books were fine. The waiting at home wasn't. I wanted to walk with her to each class and face the men there as a man. Though she seemed to tolerate me, I didn't think she was ready to accept me openly. I needed to find a way to make myself useful, a way for her to need me.

Giving up on reading, I stared out the window. What could I offer her that she would need? She didn't seem to need or want a man's attention or affection. I recalled her sigh last night when we'd run out of ham. She needed someone to bring her food. Unless she liked fresh rabbit—which I doubted was the case—I needed money and a job to provide for her.

A car drove past, and I smiled.