When Annabelle came to, later that day afternoon, she was on longer on the ground, but was rather laying on something soft. The comfortable bed held a manly smell which was unlike Kyle’s which she knew.
“Hey,” a deep voice she only knew too well brought her out of her reveries.
I am in Ethan’s bed, she realized with an inward shriek. Therefore, in his bedroom. Ergo, in his parents’ house. Oh god!
She did the only thing she could, she groaned, hid her face in the pillow, inhaling more of his scent, before muttering a rather quiet “This is not happening.”
“I believe it is sweetheart,” was his taunting retort. She could almost taste his smirk in the air.
Ethan truly is a werewolf, she reasoned as she remembered the day’s earlier events. There was no longer room for any doubt in her
