5. Declan

I'm an idiot.Why did I say that? Then Miranda leans over to press a kiss to my cheek and I know why I said it. Best idea ever.

"Hey. None of that," Carter calls from his recliner. "If you're going to be kissing a roommate, Randi, I'm it."

Miranda rolls her eyes. "Yes, Trevor."

Before I can ask if there is a relationship between them, Miranda hops down from her stool and takes her plate to the sink.

Grabbing her mug of tea, she rests her hand on my forearm and gives me a squeeze that ripples throughout my body.

"Thank you, Declan. Best thing I've eaten in years. Thank you for everything. I'm thrilled you're here."

Turning away, she says, "I hate to be the boring roommate, but I'm going to bed before I collapse. What time are you going to the rink tomorrow?"

"Ten in the morning," I say.

"Cool, I should be human by then."

She walks over to Carter's recliner, leans over the back, and places a kiss on Carter's cheek while pushing back the lock of dark reddish brown hair that always falls over one of his eyes like a floppy dog ear.

"Thank you for everything, Trev. You're a lifesaver."

"Aw, Randa Panda, you don't need to thank me. I'd do anything for you."

She straightens, says good night, and goes to her room. I pick up my mug and take a seat on the sofa, my stockinged feet plopped on the ottoman.

"What do you want to watch?" Carter asks.

"I don't care. Whatever you want."

He turns on one of the home makeover shows he's obsessed with. This one is From Dud to Den. It's a shifter-focused show. In this episode, a bear shifter's family is getting an upgrade to their cookie-cutter, builder standard home. The makeover leaves them with beautiful wood touches everywhere. Almost everywhere. The rock walls some of the bedrooms feature call to mind cozy caves for hibernating.

"Would you ever do a reality show, Mac?" he asks.

I whip my head around to look at him. By the way he's casually munching on his chips, I assume it was a random question.

Taking a sip of my tea is a good delaying tactic. It's a lovely herbal, full of flavor. It's decaffeinated, and hopefully it's helping Miranda get the sleep she desperately needs.

"Depends on the show. Something like that"—I gesture to the TV—"would be okay. I wouldn't do a dating show."

"I was going to try out for one. With Miranda. We were going to try out for a dance show."

"As a couple?"

"We were auditioning together, but we would have been competing separately."

Our other three roommates come in the main door, their animated conversation about the upcoming game interrupting whatever else Carter was going to say. Sean Waller, we call him Stone, is carrying a grocery bag and his sister, Brick, has a loaf of bread. Our team captain, Burke—we don't have a nickname for him yet—is the last in and he's carrying a bakery box from the Half-Cocked Bake Shop, the local bakery we all love. Its name is because the owner and head baker is a rooster shifter.

Stone looks around. "Where's our new roomie?"

"In bed," Carter says. "She hadn't slept in about forty-eight hours. Mac made her grilled cheese?—"

"A cheese toastie," I interject.

Carter rolls his eyes. "He made her a sandwich, and she went to bed."

Stone starts unpacking his grocery bag and Brick and Bedard add their parcels to the counter.

"I'm making spaghetti," Stone says. "Should we wake her when it's ready?"

"No, let her sleep," Carter says. "She sleeps like the dead and is grumpy if you wake her up before she's ready to be conscious."

He turns to me with a furrowed brow. "Dude, what's up with all the growling?"

"Knock, knock. Hello." The door opens and more people wander in. Coach and Mallory, Daphne and Logan, who is her husband and our team photographer, and Kendall. Mallory has a few bottles of wine and Coach has a couple of six packs of a local IPA.

"Where's Randi?" Kendall asks, looking around before kissing her boyfriend, Burke. "Ooh, you got the cookies from Half-Cocked. Thank you, honey."

"She's asleep," Carter says, rising from his recliner and putting the clip on the bag of chips.

Coach is putting the beer in the fridge. "Who's growling? Mac? I thought he was going to shift and rip my arm off in the locker room when I touched Randi's arm."

A hot flush rushes to my cheeks. Crap.

Rising from the sofa, I rub the back of my neck and turn to face everyone. "I'm sorry. My wolf has opinions and isn't subtle in expressing them lately."

With a heavy slap to my shoulder, Coach laughs. "Been there, done that. But man, you gotta get it under control." Even through the laughter I see the message in his eyes. I have to control myself and not let Miranda's presence distract me. He's serious. I don't know what he'd do first—fire Miranda or trade me, but I don't want to make him have to choose. I'd quit the team before I put Miranda's job in jeopardy.

"I will. It was the surprise of seeing her. I didn't know she knew any of you and that she was coming to work for the team. Or living here."

Carter cocks his head. "I talk about Randi all the time. Do you ignore me?"

"She's always been Miranda to me. I thought Randy was male."

A collective "Ohhh…" flows throughout the room.

"Does she know?" Daphne asks.

"Know what?"

"That you're in love with her."

My cheeks burn hotter. "No. She doesn't think of me that way."

I hope that's enough to satisfy them. Everyone keeps looking at me. Damn.

"Ever since we were kids, we've had this connection. She gets me in ways no one else does. We both love horses, and we'd spend hours sitting together looking at my father's horses, going over auction catalogs and daydreaming about being able to buy the horses, what she'd name the foals. She wanted to ride in the Olympics, and I was going to be her coach. She'd ride one of the horses I bred and trained. We'd be a team."

Everyone is looking at me intently, like they know there is more to the story.

"She was sent to boarding school when she was ten and I had turned thirteen a few weeks prior. I suspect it's because our connection was becoming obvious. We were kids, nothing was going to happen, but it was inevitable. And it did happen, I fell in love with her. By then she was here in the U.S., and I was finishing high school in Scotland. My plan was to declare my feelings on her eighteenth birthday and see how she felt. Our parents were not on board with that and made me promise to wait until she finished university to try to date her. I did and was there at Wickham on her graduation day ready to tell her my feelings and instead she told me she was accepting a job in New Zealand. I didn't have a chance."

"That's heartbreaking." Daphne sniffles into a napkin she snagged from the holder on the counter. "Stupid hormones make me cry at everything. But I love you, Birdie." She pats her belly. Logan is a golden eagle shifter and, since they don't know the sex of the baby yet, they have taken to calling it Birdie.

"Everyone good with spaghetti?" Bless Stone Waller for changing the subject.

"Sounds great," I say.

"Sure," Kennie says distractedly. "Randi went to boarding school? I mean, I know where she went to high school, but I didn't realize she was there as a boarder."

She turns to Carter. "Did you know that?"

He shakes his head.

"She went to a bunch of them," I say. "Her parents traveled all over the world for work, and they put her in boarding schools."

They look surprised. They are her closest friends. They've known her for six years. How do they not know these basic things about her?

Coach claps me on the shoulder again. "Let's save the interrogation for another time. We have all season and lots of time on planes and buses to poke around in their business. Who wants to play pool?"

"I will," Stone says. "Let me get the water started for the pasta and go check the sauce I have in the slow cooker. Be right back."

Taking a swig of my beer, I accept the pool stick Brick hands me.

She winks. "I can't wait to watch this unfold. So many items for the betting pool. This is going to be great. And hopefully profitable."

I can't wait for something else to distract everyone. Maybe we can get Carter a girlfriend. He's always good for some drama.