Bo reached behind and caught hold of Blayne’s wrist, tugging her around until she stood in front of him. “I’ll be back. Okay?”

She nodded and sat down on the edge of the couch before glancing around. “I feel like I’m in a home for giants.”

Feeling a little playful and wanting to put her at ease, he patted her head and said, “Don’t worry, tiny little female. We only eat uninvited canines.”

She slapped his hand off. “Very funny.”

Chuckling, Bo walked away from her, out of the living room and into the hallway. If he went left, he’d find his uncle’s bedroom. If he went right, he’d find a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and his old room. That’s the way he went first. The door was open and Bo walked inside, but he stopped halfway in, shocked to find that his room was exactly how he’d left it. His desk, with the framed pictures of his parents, still had his last list that included what he’d need to pack and the time he’d need to leave his uncle’s house to catch his ride to Philly and his future. His senior year school books, conveniently placed on his desk for easy access during homework time, were still expertly aligned, along with his pencils, pens, and extremely heavy laptop where he’d typed up all his papers. His framed hockey posters were still aligned on the wall, his books were still aligned and grouped according to subject on his bookshelves, and his closet was still neatly arranged with the clothes he’d left behind.

There was one new addition, though. His senior hockey jersey from his final winning game. It had been framed and placed on the wall by the head of his bed. Since he’d never had a headboard, the jersey sort of served in that role.

It seemed so strange to see that his uncle had done that. Not once, in the eight years he’d lived with the man, had Grigori mentioned Bo’s hockey obsession other than to say every morning when Bo was heading out to the ice pond, “Skating again?” And Bo would always reply back, “Yep.”

Not sure what any of this was supposed to mean or if he needed to think about it too much, Bo started to back up, but a hand against his back stopped him, and he watched Blayne slip around him and walk into the room.

“This place is kind of freaky big but I think I sort of love it. It’s very manly with all the wood and everything.”

She plopped onto his bed, bouncing several times. “Wow. You had a king-size bed when you were in high school?”

“That’s considered a double.”

“Oh.”

He had the feeling it was finally starting to dawn on her what she’d put herself into. Not everyone could handle living among bears.

“This is all your neatness, isn’t it?” she asked, her avid gaze taking everything in.

“How can you tell?”

“The type of organization you use. The almost Nazi regime alignmentyou’ve got going here.”

“You’re comparing my love of things being organized to Nazi Germany?”

“Yeah,” she answered simply. She saw the jersey and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you put up your own jersey.”

“I didn’t.”

“Really?” She pursed her lips and watched Bo for a long moment. “So your uncle did it?”

Bo stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Uh-huh. The uncle you haven’t spoken to in ten years.”

“The phones work both ways.”

“Well that’s some lame-shit excuse-making you’ve got going there.” She dropped back on the bed. “So where am I sleeping?”

“Here.”

“Someone’s getting a tad cocky.”

“I’ll be in the guest room, little Miss Assumption.”

“I can take the guest room. You know . . . since I am the guest.”

“Nope. You’ll stay here.” He liked the thought of her being in his bed whether he was with her or not. He liked it a lot.

“Are you insisting on that so your sports jersey can subconsciously influence my feelings about you?”

Bo shook his head. “You are so weird.”

“So says Mr. Alignment. Or should I call you Herr Alignment?”

“Funny.”

Blayne suddenly sat up. “I want to go running.”

“Running? Running where?”

“Anywhere. I need to go running.”

“You’ve been through a lot. Can’t you just relax?”

“Running is relaxing.”

“Wolfdog or human?”

“Either.”

“There’s a storm coming.”

“Is it a nor’easter?”

Again Bo shook his head, turned to walk out, but found his uncle standing behind him. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“I wish you’d be more observant.” He motioned to Blayne with his chin. “Adams is coming over here to talk to your wolfdog.”

“The name’s Blayne,” she said while studying Bo’s bookshelves. “Feel free to use it.”

“Quiet, sassy.” Grigori leaned in and whispered low, “You better talk to her.”

“Talk to me about what?” When his uncle glared in her direction, Blayne tapped her ear. “Wild dog hearing.”

“Great. Adams will be here in about five minutes,” he told Bo. “Get her ready.”

“Yep.” Bo stepped back in the room and found Blayne walking across the floor on her hands. Although he appreciated the view of her long legs, he still had to ask, “What are you doing?”