STORY EXCERPT

Ron knew this could only be Smoke, because who else had the gall to wear a shirt with the words ‘Warning: Smoking Hot’ over his broad chest? Smoke didn’t seem to notice that the woman at the other table was giving him suggestive looks or the guy at another secretly taking a photo of him with his phone.

What if the real Smoke hired an actor, and this was some kind of practical joke? His stomach clenched. Tobias was ready to bolt, except Smoke suddenly leveled that handsome face at him. Smoke didn’t take one look at him and bail. Instead, he flashed this huge-ass smile that, if possible, spiked up his sexy meter. His pants felt uncomfortable. 

Smoke waved at him, as if he knew exactly who he was.

Ron gave him a little push. “Go on. What’s stopping you?”

“What if this is a practical joke?” he whispered.

“You’re overthinking things, Toby. If our positions were reversed, I’d definitely hit that.”

For some reason, he bared his teeth like some kind of animal. Ron raised his hands. “Hey, I was just joking.”

He knew Ron was, but he didn’t know what came over him. Tobias didn’t even think he had it in him to be jealous, possessive of a man he just met today. A stranger, except they weren’t that. Those hours they spent in BeastWorld chatting, laughing, joking—those moments were real to him. Tobias knew that for some people, gaming was just a kind of pastime, but not to him. He chose to spend so much time in that make-believe world, because the real world was too hard to handle, to understand.

Smoke frowned, stood up. He panicked, gripping Ron’s shoulder. He felt ready to hyperventilate. “I can’t, Ron,” he whispered.

“Okay, Toby,” Ron said with a nod. “Let’s leave before he—”

“Are you Toby?” someone interrupted.

Both of them turned in slow motion. Bloody hell. Did Smoke teleport or something? Smoke suddenly stood right in front of them, all six-foot-plus of him. He knew that voice, proving this wasn’t some actor, but the real Smoke.

“Say something,” Ron whispered in his ear.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered back furiously.

“Aw, you don’t need to be so anxious. Relax, Toby. It’s just me,” Smoke said. Smoke ran a hand through that amazing hair. He wanted to reach out, touch the strands. Was it as soft as he imagined? What a strange dye to pick.

“How in heaven’s name did you hear what we said?” Ron demanded, suddenly putting himself in front of Toby.

Incredibly touched his friend came to his defense, he stood by Ron’s shoulder, because who were they kidding? With those arms, Smoke looked like he could easily rip a person in two, and Smoke’s next words didn’t help one bit.

“Don’t you know? I’m a shifter.”

Both Ron and he traded shocked looks.

“What? You never mentioned that,” he blurted.

“Huh. Half of the gamers in BeastWorld are paranormals.”

“Did you know that?” he whispered to Ron, who shook his head.

“Who’s your friend?” Smoke asked, curiosity in his voice.

“This is Ron, he’s a fellow guild mate and a friend.” Crap. Was he talking too fast?

“Then, Ron, I appreciate you accompanying Toby here, but we’ll be fine. I promise you I don’t mean him any harm, not when I waited my entire life for him.”

Entire life? Smoke’s words stumped them both, until Ron stomped over to Smoke and pressed a finger into his chest.

“Listen here, you might think you’re a smooth player or something, but it won’t work on Toby,” Ron said.

He touched Ron’s shoulder. Ron looked like he had plenty more to say but bit his lip.

“I’ll be okay, Ron. Thanks.”

“Well, you have my number and that thing I gave you,” Ron said, walking away but stealing glances at him.

“A true friend, that one. Known each other long?” Smoke asked.

“Um, not really, but I’m lucky to have him,” he answered, fidgeting. Say something witty, he wanted to yell at himself, except he was a loss to what to do next.

“Well, why don’t we head back in? Get that coffee and cake? My treat.” 

“Um, okay.” He shuffled after Smoke. In the queue, he stared at Smoke’s powerful back muscles. 

“What are you in the mood for?” Smoke asked, and he realized they were in front of the cashier. Standing this close to Smoke, he became all too aware of how good Smoke smelled. Like pine and fresh mountain air. 

“Coffee, black,” he managed to answer by some miracle. They grabbed his drink and began making their way to Smoke’s table. He began to despair. Meeting Smoke left him tongue-tied. How was he supposed to engage in an entire conversation with a guy so way out of his league? Smoke was a ten, and he was what? A one? Even lower?

“Hey,” Smoke said, reaching out to give the back of his neck a squeeze. He nearly dropped his drink, but Smoke easily caught it.

The gesture surprised and calmed him at once. Smoke’s hand was warm, big, even callused, as if he had experience with hard work.

“Relax. We know each other, remember?” They finally arrived at Smoke’s table. Smoke set his drink down, sat. He remained standing.

“I’m just scared you’ll be disappointed with what you see, what you’ll discover,” he blurted, unsure why he told Smoke the truth.

Those laughing green eyes that seemed so relaxed, so friendly, suddenly turned serious. They even seemed to change color, to slitted amber, and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. That only happened if a shifter lost control of his emotions, he remembered reading that somewhere. 

Then he took a deep breath, said what was needed. “So please, spare me the heartbreak if you think that, and we’ll end this now.”