“Because it’s better!” he calls from the other side of the room.

“—which means that you get to be my tiebreaker.”

I look between the two wood samples, honestly not seeing much of a difference other than one being darker. I can tell by the look in Tess’s eyes that she’s dead set on the one she’s holding out just a little closer to me, as if this will influence my decision, her eyes big and hopeful in a way that’s actually…adorable.

Adorable?

I brush the thought away. Truthfully, if it were up to me, I would go with the one Chase seems to be championing. I also can’t see the lighter color working in the space, but then again, there’s still so much to do that it’s hard to visualize. I can tell that Tess is completely sure in her assertion that it will work, and the pleading look on her face calls to the baser part of me.

That means I’m opening my mouth before I’m even fully aware what’s about to come out of it.

“I like this one too,” I tell her, pointing at the cedar swatch. “I think you’re right about the contrast.”

I have no idea if that’s true, but with the way her face lights up, I decide it’s the right answer anyhow.

You know you’re just trying to appease her because of your instincts, my brain whispers, right as I emphatically tell it to shut the hell up.

“Great,” she says cheerily. “I think so too.”

“You’re going to give her a big head,” Chase calls.

She waves him off. “It’s not Hunter’s fault he has better taste than you.”

I notice there’s sweat on her brow, and whether or not that’s due to her work or…something else, I can’t be sure. Again, my mouth opens before I figure out what’s leaving it.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” I ask, lowering my voice.

Her cheeks tinge pink, and her eyes dart over to her brothers, who have begun to talk among themselves while Kyle films some close-ups of Thomas and Chase working on the fireplace.

“Okay,” she admits. “Nothing too pressing since…” Her cheeks darken even further, her eyes averting to the floor. “Since the last time.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” I tell her. “It’s just biology, remember?”

She nods. “I know. Still. I’m not exactly used to people fussing over me.”

“You’re going through an entire life upheaval,” I remind her. “Someone should be fussing over you.”

She tucks a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear, her neck flushing slightly. “I guess so.”

“You can tell me if you start feeling strange again, okay? There’s no reason for you to hurt needlessly.”

“You mean tell you if I start feeling unbearably horny again,” she scoffs, her voice low.

I can’t help the way my mouth quirks. “Yes. That.”

“Is this not incredibly weird for you? I mean, you didn’t ask to take on my biological nightmare.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I want to help. We’re friends, remember?”

“The weirdest friends,” she snorts.

I grin fully then, noticing that her eyes linger on my mouth as I do so. “I’m fine with being weird friends.”

“Hey, yo, Hunter!” Thomas calls.

My head swivels, and I find him looking at me expectantly. “We’re all hitting the bar this weekend. You want in?”

I frown. That’s no doubt Cat’s doing. Honestly, the idea of piling into the crowded bar in town, surrounded by people who mostly look at me with pity, even so many years later, sounds like a chore.

“No thanks,” I tell him. “Not really the bar type anymore.”

Thomas shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

I swear I hear a whispered mention of vampire, but surely I’m just imagining it.

“It’ll be fun,” Tess says quietly, studying her wood swatch intently as if she’s not invested. “You should go.”

That gives me pause. Is she saying that to be polite? Or is she saying that because she wants me to go? And why does that matter all of a sudden? This game we’re playing becomes more confusing by the minute.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, knowing I most likely won’t but not wanting to disappoint her.

Her lips curl slightly. “Sure.”

I take one last glance at her brothers, making sure they’re occupied before I gently touch her elbow and lean in. “I meant what I said. I want you to tell me if you start feeling…off. I don’t want you to make yourself suffer.”

I actually can’t stand the thought of her suffering.

“Oh, I…” I notice her throat move with a swallow, and then she nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good,” I answer, not missing the way she shudders slightly with the praise.

It’s just hormones. That’s all.

That seems to be the motto of my life lately.

“I’d…better get back to it,” she says.

“Okay,” I answer, letting go of her elbow once I realize I’m still touching her.

There’s a slight blooming of her scent that threatens to distract me, and I feel a tension in my chest from breathing her in. Which is probably my cue to put some distance between us, something I’ve been trying to do whenever I’m not helping her practice shifting. Just in case.

I leave her to her work and return to my counter, knowing I have paperwork from the bank that’s calling my name no matter how much I’d like to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Still, as I settle back on my stool and start shuffling through the small stack once more, I can’t help the way my eyes shift up every so often to take note of whatever Tess is doing in the other room. I glance her way far more times in the next hour than I’d like to admit, actually.

I can’t help but think back to my conversation with Jeannie, once again wondering why it never occurred to me to seek out her help when Tess needed guidance. It was obviously the most reasonable answer, one that would have meant I could keep my distance, which would probably make for a much easier time for the both of us. For reasons I don’t want to examine too closely…I realize that the idea of anyone else helping Tess leaves me feeling irritable and unsettled.

And I have no idea what to make of that.

“So, how is Nowheresville? Have you found the yeti yet?”

I don’t make a joke at Hunter’s expense about his strange imperviousness to the cold; I know that would mean getting into his slightly undone flannel and his sweat and his axe swinging—all things that would have Ada foaming at the mouth and asking too many questions.

I flounce back against my bed instead, jaw working as I stare up at the ceiling. “It’s nice, actually. Quiet. I met a really nice girl in town too.”

“Excuse me,” Ada huffs. “Are you trying to replace me with a snow bunny?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh. “You’d like her.” I add, “It’s been cool to sort of unwind. It’s so pretty here. Nice and relaxing.”

“And I’m sure the scenery is nice,” she remarks innocently. “All that plaid.”

“Don’t even start.”

“You told me you’re staying with a sexy lumberjack. You’ve got to throw me a bone.”

“I don’t remember telling you anything of the sort.”

“And you’re all snowed in with him in some giant cabin,” Ada says gleefully, ignoring me. “How tall is he? Paint me a picture.”

“I don’t know…maybe like six foot four? Six foot five?”

“And he has a beard.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “He has a beard.”

“Have you wondered yet how that would feel between your—”

“Absolutely not.”

Lies, my traitorous brain whispers. You totally have.

“And how is…everything else?”

I pause. I haven’t told Ada about…everything. Not yet. I can’t even pinpoint why. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or if it’s just something I want to keep to myself for now.

“It’s going okay. Hunter has been helping me practice shifting,” I tell her cautiously.

“He has?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I say quickly.