I shouldn’t have been.
“Okay,” Rico said, going around the front of the truck. “Now, you should know that he only growled at one person, and it was the hairdresser. But I can’t blame him because she turned on the clippers without warning him. Thankfully I’d bought a squeaky toy for Joshua in the mall, and I squeezed it. Gavin was immediately distracted like a good boy.”
Gavin snarled.
Rico rolled his eyes. “I can say stuff like that now. I’m a werewolf too. It’s not racist.” He frowned. “Speciesist? One of those two. Anyway. Gavin has… interesting? Yes, interesting taste in what he wanted to wear, and while I’m not one to stifle how anyone wants to dress—”
“That’s a lie,” Tanner said. “You stifle us all the time.”
Rico ignored him. “I still gave my expert advice because that’s what I do. I’m a problem-solver. Babe. Tell them.”
“He tries,” Bambi said. “Unfortunately.”
“Exactly,” Rico said. “I do try. And it’s unfortunate when people don’t listen to me. It’s a good thing Gavin did. Well. For the most part. He tried to bite me once, but that was my fault for trying to put a belt on him, and I got a little too close to—”
“Are you almost done?” Chris asked. “It’s cold, and I want hot chocolate.”
“There’s plenty for you on the stove,” Mom said.
“Oh, man, I’m going to drink the shit out of—”
Rico whirled around. “Don’t. Move. I’m building anticipation, and you’re ruining it.”
“Hurry up, then!”
“Fine,” Rico muttered. He turned back to face us. He must have seen the look on my face, because he said, “I present to you, Gavin Walsh.” He smiled. “He picked the name himself.”
Walsh.
Like his mother.
Chris and Tanner stepped aside, throwing up jazz hands for reasons I didn’t want to guess at.
But it didn’t matter.
Because all I saw was him.
His hair was shorter. The sides had been shaved close to the scalp, and the top had been styled up, flopping over to the right. I didn’t know why I was stuck on the fact that I could see his ears, of all things, but that’s how it was.
He scowled, of course. It was his default expression. But I was learning that it didn’t only come from a place of anger or irritation. He did it when he was nervous too, like he was now.
He wore a thick cable-knit sweater, the sleeves too long, as they fell over his hands, the tips of his fingers poking out. I wasn’t surprised it was pink. He’d been so enamored with the DIVA shirt Dominique had given him. It made sense. For him, at least.
His jeans were new too, and slim-fitting. He was still too skinny, but in the short time we’d been back in Green Creek, my mother hadn’t stopped feeding him, and he’d lost the haunted, gaunt look he’d had when I found him.
He looked good.
Real good.
“Gross,” Kelly muttered.
I was up and moving even before I realized it. Gavin looked at me and then away, as if he thought I would rebuke him or judge him harshly.
I said, “You look… nice. I like your sweater.”
His scowl deepened. He lifted his arms, flexing his fingers. “It’s good. Too long. It’s floppy. I never had floppy before. Rico said floppy okay.”
“More than okay,” Rico said. “The best, even. Which is why we got six of them, all in different colors.”