72

“It’s a shifter thing. I can’t help it.” He smirked. “Besides, you’re always sniffing me.”

“I am not.”

“Yeah, babe, that’s a lie. You did it just a minute ago even though you seem to want to rip my balls off right now.” Reaching down, he toyed with the drawstring dangling from the hood of the sweatshirt I wore. “And you stole my hoodie this morning at breakfast and still haven't given it back.”

Embarrassment crept into my cheeks. “If you wanted your stupid jacket back—”

He stopped my hands as I went to pull it off. “Keep it. It looks better on you, and I like knowing you’re wrapped up in my scent.”

I huffed. He was making it impossible for me to justify my grumpiness with him. Stupid handsome wolf.

“Good. Then I’m keeping it.”