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Fucking gross.

But I act like I like it and ruffle his fur. “Good boy.”

To my astonishment, Odin turns and trots back into the living room, hops on the couch, and curls into his doughnut sleeping shape.

“Impressive,” Harlow says.

I stand, wiping my sleeve across my face. “Well, that killed the mood.”

“Speak for yourself,” she murmurs, pulling the wet shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor.

Yup. Mood definitely back in play.

Harlow heads to the bedroom, and I follow along behind. I glance back once at Odin and find him watching me as I walk away.

His lips peel back slightly, showing his upper teeth and long canines. I can’t decide if it’s a threat, a reminder he’s got his eye on me, or if he’s smiling because he likes me.

Either way, I’m going to bed with Harlow right now, and he’s not, and that’s all that really matters.


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